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JollyDoc's Shackled City
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<blockquote data-quote="JollyDoc" data-source="post: 1109479" data-attributes="member: 9546"><p>THE MYSTERIOUS INFORMANT</p><p></p><p>“What were you thinking?” Jenya railed at Pez through the bars of his cell. “You are an officer of the Church, sworn to uphold the law and justice, and here you are brawling in the street like a common thug. What do you have to say for yourself?”</p><p>Pez stood with his eyes downcast, not from shame, but in an effort to control his temper. He knew that he was duty bound to serve this local temple, and Jenya in particular, but it galled him to no end to be chastised by a mere mortal. With a titanic effort of will, he swallowed his pride and met the high priestess’ gaze. “It was a misunderstanding, my lady. We tried to resolve it peacefully, but the Stormblades persisted.”</p><p>“Do you know who those people are?” Jenya asked, “Do you know their parents? Lord Taskerhill, Annah’s father, is a close, personal friend of the Lord Mayor. Cora Lathenmire’s parents are the leading weapon traders in the city. They have very close ties to all of the local smiths. And Zachary Aslaxin’s family owns the Coy Nixie, one of the finest inns in town. These are not people who would appreciate having their children beaten in front of a large crowd outside of some seedy bar. You are fortunate none of them were badly hurt.”</p><p>“They badly hurt?” Pez asked incredulously, “What of Wathros? They nearly killed him.”</p><p>“Yes,” Jenya nodded, “and they are pleading self-defense. I know that you say otherwise, and I have no cause to distrust you, but many witnesses, credible ones, have come forward to speak against you and your friends.”</p><p>“Paid witnesses, I’m sure.” Pez said flatly.</p><p>“Be that as it may,” Jenya continued, “the Magistrate has seen fit to believe them. Fortunately, I also have some pull with him, and have arranged to have you and Gardrid released under my supervision.”</p><p>“What of Wathros?” Pez asked.</p><p>“He was charged with aggravated assault, and given a choice: one year of hard labor, or a one-thousand gold galleon fine. He chose the latter. Now, on to more important matters. Have you managed to discover any further information regarding the wands?”</p><p>“No,” Pez admitted, “but I was hoping that we may find some leads by entreating you to use the Star of Justice again to seek divine inspiration.”</p><p>Jenya looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “That actually sounds promising. I will meet you back at the temple this evening.”</p><p>________________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>Jenya held the glowing, silver mace before her, her eyes closed in prayer. Pez, Gardrid, Tilly and Wathros stood around her in the private chapel. “Lord Tyr,” Jenya intoned, “Wise and Just, tell us, your humble petitioners, how might we recover that which we seek, and bring to justice she who has slain one of your children.” Her eyes remained closed, and her breathing became slower and deeper. Then she spoke again, but this time in a flat monotone that sounded nothing like her own voice, “One who provides sustenance where ale is spilled can lead you to the unholy triad, where justice and salvation may be found.”</p><p>After a brief moment, Jenya shuddered, gasped, and opened her eyes. “Did you hear?” she asked, “Does it make sense to you?”</p><p>“Well, at least part of it does,” Gardrid said, “The Tipped Tankerd…that’ll be where ale is spilled, unless I miss me guess.”</p><p>“One who provides sustenance…” Pez said thoughtfully, “Who is the cook at the tavern, Gardrid?”</p><p>“A feller by the name o’ Artus Shemwick,” Gardrid replied, “Quiet sort, kind of shifty. Never done me no wrong though.”</p><p>“Perhaps we should pay this cook a visit,” Pez said.</p><p>_____________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>Artus was counting the minutes until his shift was done. He had more pressing, and far more profitable, work to do down by the docks later. He despised this slave labor, but he had to admit, the clientele that he dealt with at the Tankerd were a valuable source of information, and in his profession, information was more valuable than gold. He was just turning to hang up his apron for the night, when he saw the bouncer, Gardrid walk into the kitchen. He was followed by that winged Tyrite freak, as well as the little thief, Tilly, and some elf dressed in animal hides. Artus was momentarily taken aback, but he’d had enough run-ins with law enforcement to know that this didn’t look good, and to make matters worse, they were already moving to block the back door.</p><p>“What’s this?” the cook asked, hands raised innocently, “I ain’t done nothin’. Anyone who told you different is a damn liar!”</p><p>Pez stepped forward, imposing, but not quite threatening, “Artus Shemwick. We have reason to believe that you have information regarding the recent death of Sarcem Delasharn and the theft of several important items that he carried. Understand, you are not accused, but if you refuse to help us, you will be seen as having complicity in this matter.”</p><p>So, Artus thought to himself, that’s what this was about. Funny, he had actually planned on approaching the church of Tyr with the information that he had, but he hadn’t been able to set a fair price yet. Now, here they were. This could work out very well for him indeed. “I might know something,” he said, folding his arms casually, “but I’m sure not going to discuss it with you here. I’ll meet you…one of you…at the docks at midnight.” He then pointed to Tilly, “You…come alone. If I see anybody with you, the deal is off.” Tilly looked questioningly at Pez. The archon nodded, and then said, “Agreed, but if you do not show, know that we will find you, and you will be prosecuted for aiding and abetting a known murderer.”</p><p>_____________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>Tilly paced around the gazebo in the small park at the edge of the city’s central lake. It was just past midnight, and the moon was down. A light fog had also rolled in, making the docks more gloomy than normal. </p><p>“Glad you’re a man of your word, Tilly” a voice quietly spoke from behind him. He turned quickly and saw Artus standing leaning against the gazebo as if he’d been waiting there for hours. The man was good, Tilly had to give him that. </p><p>“Always,” Tilly replied, “So, what can you tell me?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Artus chuckled, “if we can’t agree on a price.”</p><p>Tilly nodded. He’d expected this. “How much?”</p><p>“Five hundred,” Artus answered without hesitation.</p><p>“Agreed,” Tilly said. Ordinarily, he would have haggled over the cost, but Pez had made it clear that time was of the essence, and this opportunity was not to be jeopardized. He handed the money over.</p><p>“You’re looking for a woman named Triel Eldurast,” Artus began, “She was a member of the town guard about ten years ago, but then one night she murdered several of her own men while on duty. No one remembers the details. She hasn’t been heard of since her escape, so everyone just assumed she had died. Apparently that rumor was exaggerated. She’s very much alive, and she’s hooked up with two accomplices. I can’t tell you much about them, only that the three of them have those wands you’re looking for, and they plan to ransom them back to the town after it’s become desperate enough from the flooding. They’ve set up operations in some old ruins under the volcano. You can get there through a dry lava tube about two hundred feet down the northeast slope of the mountain. I’ve drawn you a map.”</p><p>Artus handed over the drawing, then turned and disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he’d appeared. </p><p>Tilly returned to his friends and relayed the information. They weren’t sure whether they could trust Shemwick completely, but since this was the only lead they had, they decided to pursue it first thing in the morning.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="JollyDoc, post: 1109479, member: 9546"] THE MYSTERIOUS INFORMANT “What were you thinking?” Jenya railed at Pez through the bars of his cell. “You are an officer of the Church, sworn to uphold the law and justice, and here you are brawling in the street like a common thug. What do you have to say for yourself?” Pez stood with his eyes downcast, not from shame, but in an effort to control his temper. He knew that he was duty bound to serve this local temple, and Jenya in particular, but it galled him to no end to be chastised by a mere mortal. With a titanic effort of will, he swallowed his pride and met the high priestess’ gaze. “It was a misunderstanding, my lady. We tried to resolve it peacefully, but the Stormblades persisted.” “Do you know who those people are?” Jenya asked, “Do you know their parents? Lord Taskerhill, Annah’s father, is a close, personal friend of the Lord Mayor. Cora Lathenmire’s parents are the leading weapon traders in the city. They have very close ties to all of the local smiths. And Zachary Aslaxin’s family owns the Coy Nixie, one of the finest inns in town. These are not people who would appreciate having their children beaten in front of a large crowd outside of some seedy bar. You are fortunate none of them were badly hurt.” “They badly hurt?” Pez asked incredulously, “What of Wathros? They nearly killed him.” “Yes,” Jenya nodded, “and they are pleading self-defense. I know that you say otherwise, and I have no cause to distrust you, but many witnesses, credible ones, have come forward to speak against you and your friends.” “Paid witnesses, I’m sure.” Pez said flatly. “Be that as it may,” Jenya continued, “the Magistrate has seen fit to believe them. Fortunately, I also have some pull with him, and have arranged to have you and Gardrid released under my supervision.” “What of Wathros?” Pez asked. “He was charged with aggravated assault, and given a choice: one year of hard labor, or a one-thousand gold galleon fine. He chose the latter. Now, on to more important matters. Have you managed to discover any further information regarding the wands?” “No,” Pez admitted, “but I was hoping that we may find some leads by entreating you to use the Star of Justice again to seek divine inspiration.” Jenya looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “That actually sounds promising. I will meet you back at the temple this evening.” ________________________________________________________ Jenya held the glowing, silver mace before her, her eyes closed in prayer. Pez, Gardrid, Tilly and Wathros stood around her in the private chapel. “Lord Tyr,” Jenya intoned, “Wise and Just, tell us, your humble petitioners, how might we recover that which we seek, and bring to justice she who has slain one of your children.” Her eyes remained closed, and her breathing became slower and deeper. Then she spoke again, but this time in a flat monotone that sounded nothing like her own voice, “One who provides sustenance where ale is spilled can lead you to the unholy triad, where justice and salvation may be found.” After a brief moment, Jenya shuddered, gasped, and opened her eyes. “Did you hear?” she asked, “Does it make sense to you?” “Well, at least part of it does,” Gardrid said, “The Tipped Tankerd…that’ll be where ale is spilled, unless I miss me guess.” “One who provides sustenance…” Pez said thoughtfully, “Who is the cook at the tavern, Gardrid?” “A feller by the name o’ Artus Shemwick,” Gardrid replied, “Quiet sort, kind of shifty. Never done me no wrong though.” “Perhaps we should pay this cook a visit,” Pez said. _____________________________________________________ Artus was counting the minutes until his shift was done. He had more pressing, and far more profitable, work to do down by the docks later. He despised this slave labor, but he had to admit, the clientele that he dealt with at the Tankerd were a valuable source of information, and in his profession, information was more valuable than gold. He was just turning to hang up his apron for the night, when he saw the bouncer, Gardrid walk into the kitchen. He was followed by that winged Tyrite freak, as well as the little thief, Tilly, and some elf dressed in animal hides. Artus was momentarily taken aback, but he’d had enough run-ins with law enforcement to know that this didn’t look good, and to make matters worse, they were already moving to block the back door. “What’s this?” the cook asked, hands raised innocently, “I ain’t done nothin’. Anyone who told you different is a damn liar!” Pez stepped forward, imposing, but not quite threatening, “Artus Shemwick. We have reason to believe that you have information regarding the recent death of Sarcem Delasharn and the theft of several important items that he carried. Understand, you are not accused, but if you refuse to help us, you will be seen as having complicity in this matter.” So, Artus thought to himself, that’s what this was about. Funny, he had actually planned on approaching the church of Tyr with the information that he had, but he hadn’t been able to set a fair price yet. Now, here they were. This could work out very well for him indeed. “I might know something,” he said, folding his arms casually, “but I’m sure not going to discuss it with you here. I’ll meet you…one of you…at the docks at midnight.” He then pointed to Tilly, “You…come alone. If I see anybody with you, the deal is off.” Tilly looked questioningly at Pez. The archon nodded, and then said, “Agreed, but if you do not show, know that we will find you, and you will be prosecuted for aiding and abetting a known murderer.” _____________________________________________________ Tilly paced around the gazebo in the small park at the edge of the city’s central lake. It was just past midnight, and the moon was down. A light fog had also rolled in, making the docks more gloomy than normal. “Glad you’re a man of your word, Tilly” a voice quietly spoke from behind him. He turned quickly and saw Artus standing leaning against the gazebo as if he’d been waiting there for hours. The man was good, Tilly had to give him that. “Always,” Tilly replied, “So, what can you tell me?” “Nothing,” Artus chuckled, “if we can’t agree on a price.” Tilly nodded. He’d expected this. “How much?” “Five hundred,” Artus answered without hesitation. “Agreed,” Tilly said. Ordinarily, he would have haggled over the cost, but Pez had made it clear that time was of the essence, and this opportunity was not to be jeopardized. He handed the money over. “You’re looking for a woman named Triel Eldurast,” Artus began, “She was a member of the town guard about ten years ago, but then one night she murdered several of her own men while on duty. No one remembers the details. She hasn’t been heard of since her escape, so everyone just assumed she had died. Apparently that rumor was exaggerated. She’s very much alive, and she’s hooked up with two accomplices. I can’t tell you much about them, only that the three of them have those wands you’re looking for, and they plan to ransom them back to the town after it’s become desperate enough from the flooding. They’ve set up operations in some old ruins under the volcano. You can get there through a dry lava tube about two hundred feet down the northeast slope of the mountain. I’ve drawn you a map.” Artus handed over the drawing, then turned and disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he’d appeared. Tilly returned to his friends and relayed the information. They weren’t sure whether they could trust Shemwick completely, but since this was the only lead they had, they decided to pursue it first thing in the morning. [/QUOTE]
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