Six From Gate Pass - Chapter 3: Shelter From The Storm

[Gregor]

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North Harbour

Kirio and Bannock, though you're positive you've questioned many people and wet some lips with drinks, you don't really learn anything new. You hear that maybe someone by that name may have opened some kind of shop on Clerk's Row, but nothing else of value regarding Merrywinter. With respect to Kubla, you learn nothing concrete about him. You only hear that there is a large population of Ostaliner mercenaries out amongst the refugees

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Lyceum

"Excellent!" exclaims Simeon. "This town needs all the help it can get." He then rises and begins going into well organized trunks and cupboards, removing and measuring small amounts of powders from bags and locating jars filled with strange components such as little eyes, bizarre shapes floating in oils and other weird things. Over his shoulder he says: "You are free to sit here and wait while I perform the spell, though it will take an hour or so. Please no disruptions."

After sitting back down, he places the dagger down on the table and proceeds to grind the components in a mortar and pestle until an acrid metallic-smelling paste is made. He then takes a quill and uses the paste as an ink to draw intricate runes and designs upon the dagger. As he does so, he recites arcane phrases, statements and passages which sound like gibberish to Alric's ear. After an hour of this work, Simeon finishes his incantation and holds the dagger above the crystal ball. The dagger pulses with energy, the runes and inscriptions glowing, and the weapon hovers in the air by some unseen force. Simeon then stares into the crystal ball.

After ten minutes, he blinks, the dagger wobbles in the air and then falls to the table. Simeon sits back in his chair, rubs his forehead and turns to Alric. "I'm sorry, but there was nothing to glean. It is highly unusual for this to take place, especially given my experience and the use of this apparatus. In these circumstances, it is highly probable that the dagger was not a possession of the intended target, or the name and description given were not accurate. Disguises and aliases are simple yet effective ways to avoid divination magic. This is regrettable, but without more concrete information on your target, I do not see a way of locating them through a scrying spell."

 

[Adjuntive]

Alric stays deathly quiet and insanely still throughout the entire hour of casting. Though it has less to do with any request of Simeon to avoid interruption and more of irrational fear of Simeon's spell going wild and tearing his body and soul to shreds.

At the conclusion of the casting he breathes a sigh of pale-faced relief and nods in disappointment at the result. "Yes, it is as I feared. Again I thank you for troubling yourself with my request. And as per our agreement, I will see Ser Adelsburg and hopefully you will hear of a resolution there soon. Good day Master Simeon."

Alric offers Simeon another stiff bow and then marches from his chambers. Seeing as he has little to report to the rest of the party, he decides he will go to the Acquiline Cross encampment within/near the refugee camp and speak with Ser Adelsburg.

 

[Bannock]

After staking out the harbour for hours and not finding anything, Bannock grows restless and decides that they won't find out anything more there, since it doesn't appear that any ships, even Elven, are moving in or out of the harbour.

"Why don't we try the camps? I'll fit in among the mercenaries. We might have us a chance at finding Kubla and the other thugs that Merrywinter hired."

If Kirio has no objection, they'll proceed to the camps.

OOC: Bannock spends 60gp on healing, leaving him with 17gp after the weapons.

 

[Gregor]

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Refugee Camps

Bannock and Kirio, you have no trouble finding the camp of refugees and mercenaries who hail from the nation of Ostalin to the West. Dusky skinned humans, half-elves and half-orcs make up the majority of the population who dress in fur lined cloaks and helms and adorn their faces with oiled and manicured beards, eyebrows and mustaches. Curved blades such as scimitars, kukris and falchions hang from weapons belts and some warriors wear trophies from bandoleers across their chests or affixed to the hilts of their weapons.

The camp consists primarily of tents made from hides clustered around fire pits, as well as some large pavilions that likely serve as dining and drinking areas. Some makeshift forges have been set up as well, and the sounds of hammers on anvil and the familiar scent of red hot metal fills the air.

You are easily marked as outsiders in this place, though none seem too concerned about your presence. Most of the people here look like mercenaries; mercenaries keen on cooking their food, having a drink, sharpening their blades and trying to keep out of the ever present drizzle.

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North Harbour

Alric, after a short detour to the refugee camps where you were directed back into the North Harbour, you eventually locate the humble stone chapter house of the Knights of the Aqualine Cross on one of the merchant-cluttered side streets. Two identical weathered and wet banners hang from the front of the building, flanking the front door. Each banner is white and red marked with a cross surrounded by a halo of feathers - a design you recall seeing in a larger chapter hall back in Gate's Pass. Before you enter, you hear an almost deafening screech and look up into the rainy sky. Perched above the chapter house, on a small wooden platform is a giant golden eagle no smaller than a horse. It screeches again and stares down at you with curious amber eyes.

You stride through the front door and enter a spartan main hall. One large wooden table fills the majority of the room and a roaring hearth against one wall provides light and warmth. You can see into two other rooms, one which is clearly an armory of a sort as suits of platemail hang on racks. The other is a sleeping area filled with small military style bunks and foot lockers. There are other doors but they are closed.

Sitting at the table, apparently alone, is Laurabec Adelsburg. She is unarmed and unarmored, wearing only simple clothes and a tabbard that matches the banner of her order. Her hair is cut close and in a style somewhere between a priest and a soldier, which does nothing to hide her sharp ears that display her mixed human and elven heritage. She is writing in a leather bound journal when you arrive and she rises to greet you.

"Enter and be welcome here," she says with a smile, "your face is familiar to me sir. I believe we met at the Lyceum's War Council which was held last week? My name is Laurabec Adelsburg."

 

[funkmamagoat]

Kirio sighs at the prospect of more blathering with strangers... "alright, let's see what we can see. We're here because we're looking to find old friends... We're refugees from gatepass, blah blah blah, k? I'm honestly not very optimistic, this guy merrywinter is smart enought to cover his tracks or I'm sure we would have found something out earlier." Kirio begins the tedious task of asking around, striking up friendly banter, buying drinks, to try and scratch out a lead...

 

[fromage67]

Thieves Guild

The eyes narrow behind the mask as he listens to Lars' casual explanation. "That is less interesting a response as I was hoping for my young friend. You've taken away my fun. Alas, I shall keep this little treat of information to myself, pocket it away and use it when and if you cross me. I would advise you not to do so." He walks back to the door and unlocks the latch. "That name you mentioned. Merrywinter. I could potentially know something about someone who may or may not use such a name when he or she could be given sufficient cause to do so. I also might be willing to discuss intricacies if someone was willing to perform a certain service invoked for the greater glory of my patron Mask."

"I would never dream to cross you, Father Dusk. What is it that would please the great Mask?"

 

[Gregor]

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Thieves Guild

"Lets us assume, hypothetically of course, that I knew how to find this individual you are searching for. Let us also assume that I wished for this person's superior to meet a gruesome and untimely end. In this scenario, I would happily inform you on where and how to locate your mark and I would only ask that you end the life of mine." He stops speaking for a few moments and begins to pace in the shadowy chapel. "If you agree to undertake and complete this task, then I will forever keep your little secret about your identity. You end a life for me, and you can do whatever you like to your target. To ensure your ...cooperation, I would require you to agree to a bit of a magical contract. Are you familiar with a geas?"

 

[fromage67]

"I will need time to think this over, Father Dusk. Your offer of confidence honors me."

Lars bows respectfully before preparing to leave.

 

[Adjuntive]

Alric's back stiffens at the sight of Adelsburg somewhat more than his usual gruff, anal-retentiveness. Additionally his face reddens and his eyes dart between hers and the unremarkable floor. Remembering himself he bows deeply and pauses looking at the apparently deceptively unremarkable floor, while he composes himself before speaking.

"Er... Yes, m'lady, um, Ser, I was present at the Lyceum war council as an escort to the Gate's Pass delegation. I am called Alric Greyblade."

Alric pauses for a moment as if iterating his name was a substantial effort, and his usual scowl battles with a small smile upon his face, then, "I come as an agent of assistence to your order, m'lady, er, Ser, at the behest of Simeon of the Lyceum. He explained to me that you may require the services of a negotiator. Am I correct in that presumption?"

 

[Gregor]

The whites of Father Dusk's eyes bore into you for a minute, while pure silence fills the room. He opens the door to the chapel, letting the light from the main hall flood into the chamber. "I will give you until this evening to make a decision. Shall we say, at dusk?" He chortles before gesturing for you to leave. "You know, my wife used to say that I was prone to the dramatics. She said alot of things. Too many actually. I suppose that was why I strangled her to death in the name of my patron. Remember my young friend, be here when the sun sets. Oh and a word of advice: I wouldn't let anyone touch you while you're under such a spell ... its bad for the illusion you know." He then shuts the door behind you with a slam.