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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Creamsteak" data-source="post: 324261" data-attributes="member: 552">It is midnight, and it is quite dark here in Farlisk. The troll was burned quite completely, and the smoke was green and smelled quite a bit like sewage. The town is utterly silent at the moment, and apparently anyone that would be looking for the woman is not. Your group has mostly come to meet the wood elf in a dark and rather small alleyway. The elf is quite different from the way he originally appeared. Now his hair is silver and his face is almost emotionless. He appears to be the same elf, however, as his stature, composure, and voice are all the same.The Elf silently sits on an empty barrel waiting for everyone to get to the meeting place. Promptly after he is sure that no more have decided to come, he makes his offer. He opens up a cloth sack on the ground. Inside the sack you can see some red and violet cloths. Closer inspection reveals them to be cloaks, of very fine quality. The elf grabs three more cloth sacks and opens them up for you all to view. Each cloth sack contains another piece of apparel. Gloves and shoes, jerkins and tunics, silk pants. Two of the outfits are fit for women, and four outfits are fit for men. A glancing check reveals silver buttons and golden colored tassles. Earrings and rings are shown in the last sack, a handful of each, all quite valuable in appearance.The Elf smiles at anyone who looks closer but tries to discourage anyone who wants to actually handle the merchandise. The Elf is quite a bit more professional looking when carefully picks up the bags with the utmost care not to pick up any dirt along with the garments. He then puts the sacks inside of another sack on his belt, one at a time. The belt sack is smaller than the other four sacks, which boggles the mind a little. It appears that mayhaps this man is a master of the slight of hand."Greetings... I suspect your the kind of mud-trampers and troll hunters I might be able to use. The kind of people that are too kind to be slavers, and too unsettled to live anywhere other than in danger. I won't force you to do anything now. I don't want to force you to do anything. Don't ask my name, please. If your asked to describe me, then tell whoever is asking what I looked like earlier.""My lover, the nymph she is, has been stolen from me. They probably copied her as soon as they could find the time to kidnap her. The problem is that I can't touch them since the operation is legal, and there's a pretty good chance that despite the kidnapping I would be put to death for interfering in affairs around here. I won't ask you to kill any citizens. I won't ask you to rescue my wife. I'll have someone more professional or more reputable deal with those things. I need someone to roll in the beetle dung for me.""What I need someone to do, is to disable thier giant beetles for me. (Without anyone saying a word, it appears the man reacts to someone's thoughts) Who? Oh, well the Bart Company of course. They are the only company that can legally trade simulicrum's of missing persons. I'll never know how many people they bribed for that license. Anyway, I need someone to delay the beetles for a few days the next time they stop in Farlisk. They should be here Friday (it's Sunday). All you have to do is get into those stables and overfeed the beetles. Overfed beetles sleep for quite a while... especially the female ones. If you just put the thing out of commission for more than a day, by whatever means you can, that will allow me to prepare to make my move."The man doesn't let anyone leave, and waits for thier answers before continueing.</blockquote>

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