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As far as possible connections to this ale there is the brewer, the barrel-maker, the Quontellin family, and our missing chandler.

((I didn't read the end of your last post b/c I thought "he's just talking to the other two people". hence this post. woops :D ))
 
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Mark said:
...so let's not have anyone post (with the exception of Mario), IC or OOC until my next DM post.

Please. No more posting by anyone at all until my next DM post except for Mario as previously requested.
 

OOC: I'm back!

Danmor listens to the suppositions about the barrels and raises an eyebrow: "I'm sure Miss Ponulia don't know anything about this. She was sincerely worried about his father. And for what it's worth, now I am too. If he's guilty of something, we'll see. Let's move on as long as we have light. And posssibly without quarreling; to help a girl in need is not what I expect from a thief."
Last words are obviously aimed at Jack and Arim, as well as a stern look, then he lends a hand to move the crate.
 


Putting their shoulders to the crate, Haggerty and Arim quickly realize it isn't going to easily slide. In fact, it doesn't budge an inch, horizontally speaking, but it does lift off of the ground on their front end, but only slightly. Shining the light around the back end, Danmor is able to point out some unusual marks at a couple of points along the back edge, grooves that would suggest that the crate must pivot in some way, teetering backward. It is surmised by all that the crate must function as a trapdoor over top of something, but some hidden catch must be preventing the working of the portal according to Arthael. It is his vantage, and his original supposition, that leads him so quickly to this conclusion. His caution of moving more quietly is shared but negates one of the options. Surely it would not be difficult to smash the crate to pieces, judging by its construction, but barring that a trip switch or latch must be located to release the crate and allow it to reveal whatever is below.

It comes to Arim that this is not unlike something his brother, Achem, had described to him just one year ago. His father, brother and he had come to Jalston to sell off last years prime sheep to gain the funds to purchase the supplies needed to survive last cold season. It had been late in the day, and after dealing with the business, father had treated them to a meal at The Traveler's Home, where they had secured lodgings. Arim and his father immensely enjoyed the meal and the entertainment being offered by a local bard but his brother brooded, as usual, throughout the evening.

Arim's brother had always seemed restless and the rest of the family knew it would not be long before both sons would have to make their way in the world for themselves. Later that night, after they had retired, Achem slipped out into the darkness. Arim had assumed that Achem had needed to relieve himself and thinking nothing of it at the time rolled over and went to sleep. Several hours later, the sound of the door being opened awakened Arim. Achem was apparently trying to quietly slip back into the room. The moon shining brightly through the open window had allowed Arim to determine that his brother had been gone for quite some time but where he had been was unknown. In hushed tones Achem imparted, briefly, some of what had transpired.

It seemed that earlier in the day, when the three of them had been split up while wandering around the Bizarre, someone who he would not name had approached Achem. Achem had often gone off on his own, away from the family, but he had never before discussed his journeys with his brother. Something that night had happened that made him confide in his brother and it made Arim feel good to be sharing some of Achem's secrets. He had always wondered where Achem had gained the skills that he shared with him and though they might have been less than seemly, Arim liked learning the little tricks his brother claimed he "picked up here and there". Now it filled him with a sense of foreboding when Achem made him swear to never reveal anything that he would impart to him this night.

In quick whispers Achem told Arim that he had helped another to rob an unscrupulous merchant. The wealth, according to Achem, was surely ill gotten gains from illegal activities in which the merchant had taken part, leaving Achem's conscience clear, but something had gone wrong. During the escape Achem's partner in crime had killed a watchman and some other's had seen them both. He would have to get away before he was caught and held accountable for the "accident". He told Arim of a place just a few miles along the road toward home where he had secreted most his share of the booty. Kissing his brother on the forehead, he then slipped out of the room to leave his family forever.

The next few days sped by. The homeward trip was delayed, when in the morning Arim and his father were informed that Achem had been arrested and was being tried for murder. Pleas from their father would not sway the magistrate and there were several witnesses who had seen him and one other, who had not been apprehended, in the act of committing the crime. The watch had spotted Achem and the other as they were finishing the theft of a local merchant's domicile and a chase had ensued. After almost being caught, and the unknown suspect having slain a guard, the two had disappeared into the night. Several hours later, Achem had been apprehended while leaving town along the south road. Achem had also been found in possession of some of what had been stolen. Despite questioning, Achem would not reveal his partner or where the rest of the stolen goods had gone though it was suspected they were in the hands of his accomplice.

Arem's mind was in a whirl. Although he knew that it would not absolve Achem of his part in the death of the watchman, he felt he should disclose what had happened that night but several glaring looks from Achem in the courtroom compelled him to keep his silence. He had his brother's word that the goods were from a less than reputable source, and he had made Achem a promise to say nothing of what he had been told. It would serve no purpose to go back on that word. Achem had made his own choice and would hang for the death of the watchman. That hanging took place the next day and it was the first time Arim had ever seen his father openly weep.

Later that day, Arim's father had used some of their meager funds from the sale of the sheep to purchase a cart and mule to transport the body of Achem back home for burial. Along the way, Arim was able to recover the hidden treasure from Achem's crime and slipped it into their supply packs, hiding it again near their homestead when they arrived there the next day. For several months the money went untouched but Achem's death had created further hardships on the struggling family. At one point, Arim resolved to put that wealth to some good use.

The quandary facing Arim was in not revealing what he had promised his brother he would keep secret, and still explain how he would sometimes come into some money to help the family. To accomplish these ends, Arim would go away, much as his brother had done, for several days on the pretense of seeking some employment. He would then go out and camp for a few moons, sometimes also visiting nearby hamlets and buying some supplies with the stashed wealth. A trip every few weeks served to help the family through the next year and in the meantime Arim also outfitted himself much in the manner he had seen Achem do. A year had passed and Arim's memories of his brother had not faded. Now he was back in the town where his brother had come to his end, standing next to a watchman who knew the story, at least that known to the general public. At least this time he was on the same side and they were investigating the crime of some other than a family member of Arim's…
 
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OOC: great story.

i don't understand, though, how Arim's brother who helped rob a gemcutter? who was supposedly corrupt has any similarity to us discovering a trapdoor in a deserted wherehouse that is apparently being used to sequester smuggled goods?

*thinking out loud* does it have to do with The Traveler's Home, (or the nearest bar)?
Would this alcohol have been sold there?
It was only for the noble house, right?

Who has access to the noble's alcohol storage facility, or who transports the alcohol to the noble's location?

How does this trapdoor have anything to do with Achem's situation, other than it involves an apparently crooked businessperson in this town?

This background certainly answers a lot of questions as to HOW Arim learned his thieving skills, if he didn't come into town to practice them..

Strange part to me:
How could the town have executed Achem for simply being involved in a robbery that went bad?
Didn't the eyewitnesses testify that Achem was not the one who killed the guard?
Seems pretty harsh of sentence, even for frontier justice.
That sounds more ancient Arab or some extreme society that harbors serious penalties for criminal behavior...


Arim searches for a possible lever, or mechanism which will activate the trapdoor, since it seems the barrel's movement is the trigger.
"Lemme take a peek from your vantage point there, Arthael..."
 

reapersaurus said:
How does this trapdoor have anything to do with Achem's situation, other than it involves an apparently crooked businessperson in this town?

That's the link you've made. Isn't it enough? (That's rhetorical because I'm asking you now to refrain from any more OOC posting.) If you can't find a way to learn information while in character, then be content to gain it when I feel it is pertinent to the game or be content to go without it. Part of the game is trying (while in character) to get answers to questions. Just play the game and try not to feel that you should arrive with all of the answers in advance. Most of what you ask are questions to which your character wouldn't have the answers. Play the character and try to enjoy yourself. Build him from the inside out, not the other way around. :)
 

Arthael steps back a bit to allow Arim to see from his position. He points knowingly toward different places and says:

Clearly some kind of pivot mechanism. We must have missed the lever around here somewhere.

At these words Crow jumps off Arthael's shoulder and flies around the room, looking for anything they may have missed.

Although we could conceivably bash this crate into toothpicks I'd rather avoid stooping to that level. I already feel bad about the door. (Arthael points his thumb backwards at the now mangled portal) Let's think about the situation calmly for a minute. If this box is on a pivot hinge of some kind there must either be somthing to pull it or push it into position (I doubt there would be any magical energies expanded here). Making educated guesses about the nature of this contraption should lead us to the solution faster than either brute force or random meandering.

Arthael folds his arms, obviously pleased with his line of reasoning.
 

Following our investigations here there are two people we should talk to. They are both over in Upper Jalston. First, we should talk with Lymoor, the brewer who made this fine ale.

Arthael lovingly lays his hand on the barrel ((or half-barrel?))

Second, we should talk to Carith the Barrel-maker. Those are the two people who are definitely connected with this ale. They can tell us how old it is and perhaps why it is here. If at all possible I would like to avoid the Quontellins. I don't think they would take kindly to any questions. I for one have no desire to make powerful enemies...
 

Jack carefully lets loose of the crate and allows it to settle back into position. "Well, there's definitely something down there."

turtle said:
Clearly some kind of pivot mechanism. We must have missed the lever around here somewhere.

At these words Crow jumps off Arthael's shoulder and flies around the room, looking for anything they may have missed.

Although we could conceivably bash this crate into toothpicks I'd rather avoid stooping to that level. I already feel bad about the door. (Arthael points his thumb backwards at the now mangled portal) Let's think about the situation calmly for a minute. If this box is on a pivot hinge of some kind there must either be somthing to pull it or push it into position (I doubt there would be any magical energies expanded here). Making educated guesses about the nature of this contraption should lead us to the solution faster than either brute force or random meandering.

"You're thinking too hard Arthael," the guardman complains. "If you'd been helping to push, instead of jabbering on like a washer woman, you might have noticed that the crate has some sort of simple latch keeping it closed from the inside. We can shift it enough to open it a crack, but not enough to squeeze through. Does one of you think you can unlatch the catch, if we lift on the crate again?"
 
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