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Message: <blockquote data-quote="amethal" data-source="post: 4150636" data-attributes="member: 22784">Gribron briefly takes part in as shell game a nimble fingered young man is running, but being the staunch supporter of law and order that he is, takes exception once he realises the man is cheating. Yes, cheating! In a shell game! What is the world coming to? Instead of hiding the coin under one of the three cups, he has palmed it instead.Angrily, Gribron accuses the man of being a cheat. The man tries to laugh it off, producing the coin from Agatha’s ear,  but Gribron is not to be mollified so easily. In the end they agree on a  compromise – one last game, double or quits. Gribron loses – fair and square, as far as he can tell. With a shrug he pays the man with illusory gold and wanders away.In the distance our heroes can hear the sound of fireworks. They come across a man in a fake beard and gaudy robes who is responsible for the noise and flashing light. A sign proclaims him to be “Whizbang the Fabulous”, and his show is a big hit with the watching children.He bows to his audience, then turns to Gribron. “Excuse me, do you know where I could get a drink?”“I know just the place,” says Gribron. “Allow us to buy you a beer at the Golden Gryphon.”As our heroes return to the inn where they spectacularly failed to protect the diplomat Balan from assassination, they spot an old man playing an accordion. It looks a lot like Balan’s old instrument.Inside the inn, ‘Whizbang’ introduces himself as Zachar. “This fair has been a real boon to performers such as myself,” he says. “Things have been all doom and gloom around here ever since the king’s family was murdered, and nobody has been in the mood for fireworks.“Everybody is glad of a chance to celebrate for once. I’ve made more money today than in the past month. Only problem is, I’ve run out of supplies, and the alchemists I normally use are all tied up on some special project for the king. I’ve tried a few others, but they are also too busy to help, for the same reason.“You look like a bunch of adventurers to me. I don’t suppose you’d happen to have any thunderstones, alchemist fire or something you could sell me? If not for my sake, for the sake of the children?”The party has a surprisingly large stock of items that make loud noises and / or explode, and soon a happy Zachar heads off to put on another show.After a few more beers, our heroes head back out into the fair. Its getting on for midday, and the food vendors are out in force. Solsus hears the sound of arguing voices coming from one of the carts, and the party amble over to see what all the fuss is about.A man is standing holding  plate with a piece of steak on it. A halfling dressed in a chef’s outfit is haranguing at him. “Bah!” he says at last. “As though you, an eater of gruel, would understand the finer aspects of the culinary arts. Take your money and begone!” The halfling leaps up and dashes the plate from the man’s hands. If falls to the ground and breaks. The disgruntled chef then hurls a handful of coins onto the floor after it.The man picks up his money with as much dignity as he can muster and stalks off into the crowd.It seemed like a lot of money for a piece of steak, but as the party get closer they can see the halfling’s price list. Even the soup is three pieces of silver per bowl.“Um, a bowl of soup each please,” says Gribron cautiously, half expecting the enraged halfling to throw something at him. However, the chef merely grunts, and hands out a bowl of soup each. He glares at them as they eat it, as if daring them to make a disparaging remark.In fact, the soup is delicious, probably the best they have ever tasted. “That’s good soup!” says Gribron, and the rest join in with the praise. This seems to calm down the chef, and the tension flows out of his body.“Thank you,” he says. “Its good to find people who are able to appreciate the finer things in life. I’m not used to catering for uncultured palates.”“So who do you normally cook for?” asks Solsus.The halfling pulls himself up to his full height of three feet. “I am Randas Slabovalles,” he declares. He waits in vain for recognition to dawn on the faces of our heroes, and his scowl returns. “Chef to His Majesty, King Steppengard,” he adds at last.“Isn’t there a banquet for the lords tonight?” says Solsus. “I’d expect you to be hard at work in the royal kitchens.”“So would I,” snarls the halfling. “However, His Majesty has seen fit to bring in …” He pauses, in a vain attempt to regain his composure, before spitting out the rest of the sentence. “….. Outside caterers! I have been given the week off, and banished from my kitchen!”A pair of the royal guard wander over, attracted by the commotion. “Move along there, Randas,” says one of them. “Stop making a scene, and take yourself home before your big mouth gets you into trouble.”“He’s not doing any harm,” says Gribron.“Not yet he isn’t,” replies the guard, “but we are under orders to make sure this fair is a happy event, and his yelling and shouting is spoiling the mood.”“I was leaving anyway,” retorts the halfling. “None of you peasants are fit to eat the merest crumb of what I produce.” He begins packing up the wagon, and the party head off.Solsus is concerned that the halfling might be in trouble, and follows him invisibly until he gets safely home. Then he rejoins the others.“Strange cooks in the kitchen,” says Jonathan. “And the alchemists are all tied up on some special project. Could they be planning to poison the king and the lords?”“We’d better go and report this to Lord Gallo’s proxy,” says Agatha. “This sounds like exactly the kind of thing he told us to watch out for.”Our heroes head back to see Jinis, the proxy. Dozens of other people have the same idea. It seems Lord Gallo’s return to the capital has convinced everybody with a grievance to attend his court in the hope of getting a hearing. Harassed servants are trying to maintain decorum and arrange some sort of order of precedence. They wave our heroes straight through, which leads to much bitterness amongst the crowd and the odd hostile comment.“These are Lord Gallo’s elite agents,” retorts one of the servants. “They have done sterling service to the kingdom and certainly take priority over the likes of you!”Once inside, they meet a flustered looking Jinis. “Welcome, my friends,” he says. “Dealing with all these matters of state is proving somewhat stressful, but it is much better than my last stay in the capital, in His Majesty’s dungeon. What can I do for you?The party explain their fears about the king being poisoned, and Jinis smiles. “Poison is the least of our worries at present,” he says. “As foreigners, I wouldn’t expect you to know this, but our nobles are protected by the Book of Eight Lands, Dassen’s most prized possession.”This rings some bells, as they remember Balan referring to the book in his ultimately futile speech to the assembled court.“The book,” continues Jinis, “is a mighty artefact that protects all the nobles from poison, and also from mind affecting magic. We need have no worries on that score, although as a precaution I will see to it that my lord Gallo is given some additional magical protection against poison, just in case.“It may be that these occurrences are just coincidence, but with the fate of the Kingdom resting on this couple of days, we cannot be too careful. Just because we are not threatened by poison, it does not mean there is no plot at all. Please continue your investigations.”The party head back out to the street. If anything, the crowd waiting to see Jinis has grown during their brief meeting. As they leave one applicant, a dark haired dwarf currently stationed towards the back of the queue, seems to come to a decision and follows them out.Once out in the street, the dwarf says “Pssst!” in a low voice. Our heroes all turn and look at the stranger. “No, don’t look at me!” he says in anguish. “Follow me into that dark alley, over yonder, where we can talk in private.”The party exchange glances. If it’s a trap, it’s a very obvious one. This fair might finally be getting interesting. They follow the man into the alley.“Is that right?” asks the man. “You are Lord Gallo’s special agents?”“We are indeed,” says Jonathan. “I am Jonathan Farrier, a scholar.”“I can’t see Lord Gallo. I can’t even get in to see his proxy. I need you to hear me out. Strange things have been happening.”“Okay,” says Agatha. “What’s your story?” She sounds almost disappointed, and scans the alleyway as if hoping to make out the shapes of figures lurking in ambush.“I’m one of the castle guards,” says the dwarf. “I work the night shift. Normally, I’m stationed in the old graveyard. That’s where the castle sewers come out, and flow into the river. There’s a locked gate and stuff, but it’s a potential weak spot in the castle defences.“Anyway, the other day I was re-assigned to the castle’s Special Vault, the one where they keep the Book of Eight Lands. Nothing too unusual about that; we guards go where we are sent, and anyway it was a much better posting. That graveyard’s a pretty spooky place; you get the odd ghost, which you have to know how to deal with.“I tried to find out who’d been assigned to my old duty, so in case they were rookies and didn’t know about the ghosts, but nobody could tell me who it was. Typical mess up, I thought, so since last night was my night off I decided to head down to the graveyard and see if the new guards needed any advice.“When I got there, there were no guards at all! Instead, a bunch of people in robes – priests maybe – were taking delivery of a load of casks. What possible reason could there be for bringing a load of casks into a sewer?“That left me pretty puzzled. Then today I get a message telling me I won’t be working tonight, so I could enjoy the festival. I tried to find out who was going to be replacing me at the vault; its going to be tough luck on them, pulling extra duty when the festival is on, so I figured I owed them a favour. But once again, it seems nobody is replacing me.“I didn’t know what to do, so I thought I’d tell Lord Gallo about it. Only now I’m telling you, instead.”</blockquote>

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