IC Game [Pathfinder] Diabolical Plots

[Mlwells]

In response to the fat man's jibe the girl gives a cherub grin and announces, "Oh you know those adventuresome sorts!" She brings her hand up to her mouth like one would do to whisper to a confidant, which is obviously not the case here. "Between you and me, I think they have attention issues. They are off doing their own thing around somewhere."

She places a hand on the dwarf's shoulder to direct him to an empty table. "Get us a table, I'll grab the first round as well as play a rather cumbersome, annoying game to get some info." With a wink to the dwarf she makes her way through the slight crowd to the proprietor. In between each person she smooths out her hair, softens her face, cricks her neck, and clears her throat.

By the time she arrives at the bar, her air seems different somehow. She smiles at the proprietor, not the cherub grin, but a soft one that draws attention to her lips. "Hello, I am Lanalia," she gives the slightest of curtsies to him. "It would be rude of me if I did not mention that your establishment is quite nice when not filled the rabble-rousers." Her voice, normally childish and quick, has smoothed out and deepened. "First, I must order a large ale for my companion and a glass of sherry, if you have it, for myself. Second however, If I have learned one thing in my travels, it is that the tavern-keep is the real knowledge base of a town." She winks and looks toward the town head before finishing with a roll of her eyes. "And I have some information to trade you."

She sits upon a stool in front of the man and continues, "We did in fact find some interesting things in the forest. Our first stop led us to the woodsman's home. We were surprised to discover he had been attacked and poisoned. With no way to cure him at the time, we made for the area he directed us to. There, we discovered two beings cloaked in a holy aura. They refused to help us and left us to be murdered by the woodsman's attacker. It turned out to be a creature likely from some lower plane. We dispatched it and caused it's companion to flee. Judging by forest's sounds returning, I expect it not to return. After this though," Lanalia puts a troubled look on her face and gazes down at the counter, "I did not wish to panic your patrons, the rest of the group disappeared into the ether without a sign or sound. With little else to do, we returned to the woodsman, he is now on the mend in his home, and then here."

She softly places her hand on her cheek. "Now it's your turn, know anything about these erratic events? You mentioned a monastery as well?"

 

[HolyMan]

"First Lass, never show ye hand till ye know it's be a winner," the dwarf says taking a seat at Jethro's table.

He slams a fist down and looks at the man with hard eyes. "Do ye even know what ye sent us out dare against? DO YE?"

"Hrmph," he grunts blowing out at his bushy mustaches. "We did nay makes it haf a mile till we met trouble. Ta makes it to dae old temple will takes more planin' better planin'."

He takes a draw from the mug Marte sets before him. "And dae woods be stealin' people, it do be. So dare is dat to be fearin' as well."

 

[mazzoli]

Marte looks flustered at the attention he is receiving from Lanalia, and quickly fills her in a little more on the monastery, "There's an old campus out there in the forest. It's been abandoned from way back, even before that elf that went with you showed up in this town, and even that's beyond living memory. No one rightly knows why it was built out there, or if the monks were dedicated to a good or evil god, but it has been used as the hideout for bandits and cults, though it spends most of the time simply abandoned. In my opinion that might be the place to look if you're trying to cure what ails the forest."

Jethro eyes Fir apprehensively but waits to hear what Marte has to say to Lanalia. Once the innkeeper finishes, Jethro bursts into action. "Accusing me of sending you into danger? You don't look like you've been scratched! I think the rest of your group is just hiding out there waiting for you to bring some of us out there, then you'll turn on us and take us out! I can see how clearly I hit the mark by the expression on your face! You have it in for this town and I won't stand for it!"

Without taking his eyes off Lanalia, Marte speaks to Jethro, "I thought I told you to shut up before you get yourself in trouble. I'm inclined to believe their story, especially from how angry it seems the dwarf is. I would advise against infuriating a trained warrior who seems to have a temper."

Alim sits back down and crosses his arms in a huff. He keeps a wary watch on Fir and Lanalia and mutters to himself.

Marte finally tears his attention away from Lanalia's face and figure and spots the bow she is carrying. "Say, is that old Tolbin's bow? He got that from the head of an elf caravan that he saved in the forest some time back. I doubt he'd part with it easily. Exactly how did you come into possession of that?"

 

[Mlwells]

"He he he," the girl's giggle comes from deep in her chest like a young child devoid of the wearies of the world. "You have a good eye, it is of course the bow that our mutual acquaintance often carried. And what you say explains so much," Lanalia explains. "I moonlight as a healer as occasion calls for it. Nimble fingers," she giggles and wags a slender finger at the tavern-keep. "A gift for a life saved oft pays a like debt. If you will."

She turns toward her companion, "Good dwarf, don't scare the man so. While I am injured that he would send a group of good-natured adventurers into a lethal forest without all the information he has, he surely meant nothing horrible by it. Protecting his town is first on his mind, for all he knew, we could have been conspirators."

She directs her gaze to the town's elected head. "Your fears are of course unfounded. I am sure you know the elf better than I, but I would never see him the type to spill the blood of an innocent in his precious woods."

Lanalia doesn't give the dwarf or fat man another look so as to give the proprietor all her attention. She places her elbows on the bar and claps her hands together in front of her face to rest them under her nose. With an imploring look, "We only wish to answer questions we have, it would be such a great thing if we knew all that you knew. A map to the ruins if possible, oh," she hunches her shoulders up and back down. "Do you know of any other able bodies around here - mmmm the type that might be a little touched in the head and enjoys dangerous situations?" The girl scrunches up her face and sticks the tip of her tongue out.

 

[mazzoli]

Jethro sulks and gives a "Harrumph" before muttering to himself, "I never much cared for that no good forest-dwelling, shadow-skulking elf."

Marte considers Lanalia's explanation and finally accepts it, "I guess he's not getting much use out of it for the time being if he's been laid low as you claim. I think he'd like to see the bow being used to cleanse the wood."

He then mulls over her other questions, "I'm afraid that I can't give you a map to the monastery. Even before the forest started turning strange the area around the place was always changing. It's somewhere in the direction past Tolbin's place. That trail of his that follows the lake shore eventually forks and the inland path leads you to its general location. As for anybody to help, there are plenty of people I'd say were touched in the head, but only Jeslle and Tolbin seem to have the gumption to actually go with you. But one of them is but a lass and the other isn't well enough to help. Maybe if you look around you could convince somebody to join you or find another recently arrived outlander to help. In any case it's getting late. If you'd like to stay tonight and get started again in the morning the room's on the house considering what you did for that crusty old woodsman."

[sblock=GM]Announcement: It looks like Mlwells has found somebody who is interested in playing, so we'll work him into the game somehow. I think I'm also going to add a character for me to play to help you guys in combat, because building (an) encounter(s) that was/are appropriate to both the setting and the party level was tough enough with a large(ish) party of level 1 characters. The extra muscle should expand my options.[/sblock]

 

[HolyMan]

The dwarf thanks Marte for his hospitality and goes back to his drinking.

He broods long into the night gazing at the fire. After a few hours he heads off to a room to get some sleep before tomorrows trip to the monastery.

[sblock=OOC] A party of 4 would be great. Just post Fir waking up and coming down to join Lanalia and the others when characters are ready.

I am ready for more demon bashing.[/sblock]

 

[Mlwells]

Lanalia remains chatting with the tavern-keep awhile more to protect her cover. When it is courteous to do so, she removes herself from the bar and mills about with the other patrons, just to see if anything of interest happens or she can a laugh out of anyone.

 

[mazzoli]

Many of the bar's patrons find Lanalia's antics to be highly entertaining, and many apologize for being so swept up in Alim's rhetoric earlier. They wish you well on your quest to cleanse the forest, but if pressed on helping they inevitably demur. Most of them suggest asking Tolbin, or tell you that Jeslle's concern for her brother has made her about the only one in Perium with the courage to go into the forest of late. You also hear an interesting rumor of a mysterious newcomer to the area camped off the road that heads into the Kedara Highlands. By this point it's getting very late and the crowd in the tavern has grown quite thin. Marte signals for last call and suggests that you get some sleep if you're going to try to tackle the forest again in the morning.

 

[Mlwells]

With little more to do, Lanalia excuses herself from the common room with winks and nods to all. Once she is safely behind doors in her room, the girl shakes herself out from feet to crown and sticks her tongue fully out in disgust from playing her role.

 

[Mlwells]

The girl takes some paper and pen thy she aquired at some point out from somewhere and sits cross legged on the bed. Chewing on the end of the writing implement she stares thoughtfully at the blank page, her fad suffused calm, calculating thought. When ideas begin to flow, she uses quick scrawls to write out first a series of jokes, three stories she heard that night one prank that can be played on the dwarf, and ending with notes and observations of people and things observed.

Carefully folding the paper up first, she places it in a hidden pocket and dived under the blankets. She is dead asleep in minutes.