[LPF] The Mightiest Weapon

Daylily nods as Quioan speaks. "I am agree with Scorchsong. You says the Feen-dor brother is cut from clan honor, then I am believe that the Feen-dor brother is cut from clan honor."

He favors the two representatives with a sour look. "But I am also agree with Scorchsong that the fat merchants maybe is think different. That is for yours clan and the fat merchants to talking about."

"My lord, the Merchant's Guild has no interest in harming your House. We have had good business dealings in the past to our mutual benefit and I will report your assistance."

"Sir, this has come to a shock. Your family and your siblings have been patrons to many of our artists. You will not be held accountable for this. I can hardly believe that your brother, Lord Wisten Feador, has done what has been claimed."

The Lord answers bitterly, "I can hardly believe it either, yet here we are. Wisten adored the popularity he was receiving these last few weeks as he sponsored Callery Frickard and toured him around the social clubs. He was so pleased that Callery had taken an interest in the writing quill. Being a bit of an intellectual himself, he threw himself wholeheartedly into aiding the man. He thought Callery was going to improve on the quill, and in doing so improve the popularity of our family's business."

"A few days ago Wisten came home upset and warned me about a new development. Callery showed him a prototype of what he had created. It wasn't an improved quill, but an entirely new type of writing tool. Callery called it a fountain pen, because he believed it would release a fountain of knowledge. No more would legible writing require special patience and skill to avoid blotting. No more would you need to constantly dip you pen for more ink, because there would be a reservoir of ink inside the pen. Also, you wouldn't need goose feathers, making the materials cheaper to find and possibly putting my family out of business in the future. Wisten feared that he didn't aid the family, but instead ruined us.

After some fretting and nightmare filled nights, he told me he was leaving to plead with Callery to at least restrict the sales of the new pen. He said he had visions of the future that disturbed him. When he returned he told me that he had gotten into an argument with Callery, and that the inventor angrily told him that the knowledge of manufacturing the fountain pen was to be freely given to the public. Wisten said that he stabbed and killed him in a fit of rage. My brother, a gifted Diviner of Foresight, started speaking nonsense to me of how he saved the world by killing the man and how he burned all of his usable notes. He claimed he was going to Soot Street in the slums, to Callery's second workshop, in order to destroy the rest of his works. I assume that is where he is now, destroying what remains so that Callery Frickard's legacy remains lost. If you pursue him, my brother will most likely know you are coming and of my betrayal. That's his talent, you see."

Great, thinks Quioan, a diviner. This should be fun. Out loud, he says, "Thank you for your information, Lord Feador." Turning to the others, he continues, "Well, I guess we know where we're headed next. Shall we?"

Daylily listens to Feador's words. He clearly has no understanding and no interest in the fountain pen technology, but he perks up as "diviner" and "foresight" are mentioned. "Zozozozo," he ponders. "I am not know about the magics. Is a way to making magic-blind the Wisket person? In Jirago, if spirit-seer was take by bad spirit, the hunters would sometime wear special stone-powder for to confuse the spirit-talker. Is something to confusing the Wisket?" The question seems directed at both Feador and the other members of the party. "If not so, we shoulds run and catching him."

"But... if he sees this future, then it's the future, right? So it doesn't work out that way."

All better now, Kazanto bounces to her, er, fins. "We should talk to him anyway! Maybe there's another good use for goose feathers in the future! Can you strain water for plankton with them?"

Relic stands up clearly furious.

"Well spoken Master Scorchsong. I stand with Daylilly and yourself on this matter. What I don't understand however Lord Feeble, is why on earth you had us held by your yapping midget with wine and promises of glazed geese for half an hour while your brother destroys Fickard's Fountain of Knowledge Quill, which I imagine, if he is successful, will be to your great benefit!!! But as Master Scorchsong points out, it is not our business to rock your velvet lined boat! But we shall not have you waste anymore of our time and give your seer sibling more time to escape... I do wonder how he didn't see all of this coming when Frickard made contact with him in the first place, so let me put in doubt the notion that he is expecting us if I may! You have a grave debt to repay the world for this loss Feeble, I hope you pay what you owe and seven times that! May the Wind blow the feather's from your geese and lift grit to your eye!"

Eyes sparking like a tempest were raging within them Relic turns to the two guildsmen. "Can you find us this Soot Street? ..."

At the slightest sign of an affirmative he responds: "Then lead the way as fast as your legs will carry you."

OOC: Because it is a holiday weekend, my next update will be Tuesday late afternoon to early evening in order to give folks time to post.

I am sure my cook can give you tips on cooking the next time you are here," the man tells Kazanto.

The party fails to sense the motivations of Lord Feador and leaves with their two guides.

The slums are on the opposite side of the city, as the estates were built with the purpose of being away from the commons. The sun has fallen to the edge of the sky, casting the last of its fading light into the crowded streets. The party is halfway to their destination and passing through the city center, when a commotion catches their attention.

Two wagons returning to their driver's respective homes had crashed into one another, tangling up their mules and harnesses. The pitiful animals cry out in confusion and pain while their owners hurl insults and blame at one another. It seems as though one of the drivers is a member of the Merchants Guild, and the other a member of the Craftsmen Guild, since pedestrians also soon enter into the argument, depending on where their own allegiance lies.

Soon, one of the Merchant Guild members gets the bright and very vocal idea to compensate the Merchant Driver by attempting to jump onto the back of the Craftsman wagon and looking for valuables. This leads several Craftsmen to pull him off and results in a shoving match. Some Craftsmen then jump onto the Merchant Wagon and loudly state their intention of destroying some property in order to get even with the merchants.

The argument slides downhill from there, and dozens of people start trying to fight one another and destroy property in the middle of the street, becoming akin to a human swarm. The very event that your investigation was to prevent is unfolding right in front of you. A riot is breaking out in the center of the city between the guilds, and there is no telling how out of control it may soon become.

Of course you can take a side street and avoid this whole business on your way to the slums.

OOC: I don't want to give anything away, so I am waiting for the end of the adventure before commenting.

Daylily's eyes light up at the prospect of a proper scrum, but he deflates as he remembers that they have to hurry to catch Frickard's killer. "Every times is good punching, I ams too busy for playing," he sighs, but then perks up. "Or maybe it being faster to go through, not around," he suggests in a hopeful voice.

Relic raises his hand and mutters dark arcane words into his beard. A ghostly eagle surges forth from the battered pewter ring on his heart finger and swoops into the thick of the crowd where it turns into fand sand that showers down upon the furious mass to bring the peace of sleep upon them. He walks swiftly and surely towards those that still stand in confusion as bodies suddenly slump unconscious around them staff raised and crackling with electricity.

"Calm your anger! It was neither the Merchant nor the Artist Guild that murdered Frickard! The murderer was Lord Feador's brother, this great man loved by all murdered by a mean spirited noble over golden goose feathers! If you don't believe me, go and ask Lord Feador! He has admitted it before these representatives of your guild! Ask them yourselves before you spill blood!"