The great hall seems more like a museum than a residence. Artwork, tapestries, and statues line the walls. The crystal chandelier high above must be a magnificent sight when lit. Immediately in front of Iridia is a large antique sofa with three giant pillows tasseled and bordered by long fringe. Gliding her hand across them reveal they are made of silk. Near the sofa is a few hookahs and a small glass-topped table with a porcelain tea service.

As Iridia enters the pitch-black room using the thunderstorm's almost constant lightning, she sees how impossible it will be to navigate this maze if the storm were to die down. Currently, for every few seconds of utter darkness, there are one or two seconds of bright flashes.

"Sssh, yous de one doin all de talking."
Frank is getting frustrated. He'd expected a rich merchant to own more valuables. Apparently the new ruler was bad news for more people than the criminal population.
Moving into the living room, on the north-west side of the house, Frank peaks around the corner, into the northern corridor.

[Private to Stripe: Rolls:
Skill: Stealth, 14 Frank the Fiddler rolled 9 using 3d6. Stealth.
Skill: Observation, 11 Frank the Fiddler rolled 10 using 3d6. for pearing into the darkness.]

Gaiven keeps an eye on the stairs, while his companions spread out. The paintings on the wall is giving him an itch between his shoulder blades, but after one glance over his shoulder, he does his best to ignore them.

Whether it's because of pure intuition or because Iridia didn't want to break anything in the display hall could be a matter of speculation. But the result would be the same; Iridia turned around and went back to the stairs.

She shook her head, nothing that there is nothing where she had searched. And then nudged a questioning face towards the stairs.

Lightning reveals another piece of the puzzle as Frank glides along the north wall of the great hall: a solid oak door. Placing an ear near the hinges, Frank listens for sound behind it. Just as Iridia crosses behind him back toward the stairs, Frank hears a snort and the rustle of bed covers.

Someone in the next room is sleeping uneasily.

Frank warns Gaiven and Iridia off the sleeper with whatever sign language he can manage. Then he takes out his Lockpicks, and feels for a keyhole. After a moment of doupt, he picks the lock.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
Skill: Stealth, base 14 Frank the Fiddler rolled 18 using 3d6. Frank is stealthy. Then again maybe not. I donno if this was required for lockpicking, but if it wasn't, let's pretend it never happened.
Skill: Lockpicking, base 12 Frank the Fiddler rolled 10 using 3d6. Frank picks a lock.]

When Frank pulls out his lockpicks, Gaiven grabs his arm. Making sure he has his companion's attention, he taps the back of his hand twice, then holds up five fingers and pulls his pinky[Private to Frank the Fiddler; Iridia Silvermane: Wait. Last.].

Iridia nods even though she wasn't exactly sure what Gaiven meant, or what his reasoning was. It did seem sound to Iridia because so far, Frank has been a tad bit foolhardy, and anything to slow his momentum is not a bad idea.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Mon 22 Sept 2008.

Frank shrugs is arm from Gaiven. "Well what if de darn ding is in dere wid him, huh? Besides, he is sound asleep. Still, he understand the the advice. There is no need to take the risk of waking him up before they had searched the rest of the house. The thought of locking the man in his own room crossed his mind, but if the stone really was in there, it would just make things even more difficult. Leaving the door be, he moves out from the great hall and into the den, and peeks around the corner he'd missed on his way in.

[Private to GM: Rolls:
Skill Stealth, base 14: Frank the Fiddler rolled 13 using 3d6. Sneaking to the den.
Skill Observation, base 11: Frank the Fiddler rolled 5 using 3d6. Looking around the den.]

This must be where 'ol Julian keeps his wares. Frank sees shelves and shelves of jarred goods here in the intermittent flashes of lighting.

Iridia looks over Frank's shoulders at the store. "You know, maybe they have some rare spices here, its worth a look." She whispered, "I am heading upstairs anyway." She made sure to announce this to Gaiven by pointing to the stairs as she passed by him.

"Fricking Bingo!"
Frank is a little pressed to contain is excitement. He puts down the Candleholder, give the gang a 'Let there be light' and makes an attempt to fire it up.

[Private to GM: I've got 'personnel basics' which should include some flint for this.]
This message was last edited by the player at 12:12, Tue 23 Sept 2008.

Gaiven nods, gives Frank the thumbs up, and follows Iridia up the stairs.

Sock-clad feet stepping at the other edge of the stairs to avoid squicking, he continues to keep an ear out for other people.

[Private to GM:
Rolled 6 against Hearing 16.
Rolled 8 against Stealth 14.]

Iridia and Gaiven quickly figure out that the stairs are too dark to see the top. So far, they've used the flashes of lightning to guide their steps, and had to pause during the intermissions between strikes. In the inner stairwell, there are no windows.

Downstairs, Frank pulls out a piece of flint and a match. He strikes it lit and holds it to the candle. The soft, flickering glow illuminates the room like a western sunset. Frank picks up the silver candle holder and cups the dancing flame with his other hand.

Most of the herbs and spices are of the common variety and used for cooking or potpourri. Many are used for medicinal purposes. Frank can't seem to remember which ones carry steep price tags at the apothecary, and isn't really too sure which ones are considered rare or particularly valuable. Some of the jars are unlabeled and made of opaque pottery.

---

^{OOC: Stripe rolled 12 using 3d6. Frank's Merchant roll.}

Gaiven scratches his chin, and then motions for Iridia to stay where she is. Padding down into the sitting room, he looks for a candle or even better; two.

He finds a a couple candel holders much like Frank's.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:06, Tue 23 Sept 2008.

Sneaking up on Frank, Gaiven wordlessly lights the candles on Frank's and then carries them back to Iridia.

Handing her one candle, he then holds up one finger, followed by two fingers held down and moved as a man walking. He then points upstairs.[Private to Iridia Silvermane: One person upstairs.] He then waits, apparently for some indication that she has understood.

Iridia waited patiently for Gaiven to come back. When he came, her face brightened up with the sight of the lit candles. She gave Gaiven a big smile and a thumbs up as he gave her one of the candles.

She nodded, telling Gaiven that she understood what he meant. She pointed at herself, then upwards, indicating that she will go up. She then pointed at Gaiven and then at the display/living room, "Try looking there with the candles." Iridia whispered and then moved up the stairs, placing her steps wisely at the edge of the boards to not produce any unwanted noises. When Iridia reached the top of the stairs, she observes her surroundings.

Frank rummages through the jars and shelves. Surely he must have something of extraordinary value, or at least something that looks enough like it to fool that greedy gargoyle.

[Private to GM: Rolls
Skill Stealth, base 14: Frank the Fiddler rolled 7 using 3d6. Rummaging in silence.
Skill Merchant, base 11: Frank the Fiddler rolled 13 using 3d6. Appraisal of goods. I just have rotten luck finding valuables.]

Outside, thunder rolls as sheets of rain shower against the roof and windows.

[Private to Iridia Silvermane: Creeping slowly up the stairs, dancing candle light throwing shadows across the steps, Iridia sees a closed door at the top.]

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: Frank supposes there are about 20 jars that could be worth some money. However, there are about five unlabeled jars. He will have to go through them one by one to determine what's inside, a process that will take about 30 seconds apiece to do quietly.]

"Black Peppeh, Basilica, Paphika Powdeh, Basilisk's Floweh... Where is all the good stuff?"
Frank is looking though the jars, one by one. What is to become of the world when a thief can even find decent loot in a merchant's house.

[Private to GM: I will look into the unlabeled jars. How much do the (other) jars weigh, and can any of them fit in the pouch?
]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:14, Fri 26 Sept 2008.

^{OOC: Private to Frank:}

[Private to Frank the Fiddler: The jars' weight ranges from a pound to a few pounds. Some are large and bulky; others are smaller, able to be shoved into his small belt pouch. Only two will fit in there at a time, however. Too bad Frank didn't bring a sack.

Frank removes the lid to the first ceramic jar and stands on tip-toes to peer over its lip. The aroma is strong and burns his nose... Cyanne Pepper. Small amounts of the powder sell for little, but this much might fetch five silver pieces or so. The jar is too large to fit in his pouch, but he could pour the entire amount in there if he wishes.

---

^{OOC:Try the next jar? Contain your entire reply in Private Line in this thread, please.}]

Gaiven hesitates, then nodes and proceeds into the great hall to take a closer look at things. As he pads around, he looks doubtfully at the paintings and statues. Too heavy for a quick escape. Coins, jewelry and custom ordered goods like the tooth is more his style.

[Private to GM: Trying to find light-weight and valuable stuff.
7 against Merchant 11]

^{OOC: Private to Gaiven:}

[Private to Gaiven the Dumb: Both small and valuable -- that's what every burglar wants to find. However, Gaiven doesn't have even so much as a belt pouch, so whatever he finds is going to have to fit in his ragety trouser pockets.

Using the flickering candle, Gaiven searches the massive great hall, shadows dancing all around. The man is rich, that's for certain.

Hmm... Here's something. Six pure silver, highly decorated disks are stacked on a table. The table is surrounded by plush furniture topped by large, silk pillows. Being raised in poverty, the street urchin doesn't immediately realize what the disks are. But, his quick mind quickly surmises that they are used to save the beautiful wooden table from a cold drink's moisture. They should fetch two or three silver apiece and they'll fit in Gaiven's pocket.

On that same table, Gaiven lifts the lid to a wooden box and finds four cigars. The box is too large to pocket, but the smokes will fit. However, they will be fragile; Gaiven could easily wind up with a pocket of tobacco and torn leaves -- not to mention what will happen to them in the rain. But, knowing how rich fatso is, these cigars might sell for two to four silver apiece at a store.

---

^{OOC: Contain your entire reply in Private Line in this thread, please.}]

Private to GM

[Private to GM: Oh ye of little faith. I don't have to be limited to what is in my pockets. Did I notice any sacks in the kitchen? You know, large flour or potato sacks, or something. Otherwise I'll be looking (quietly) through drawers for tablecloth or bed linen.]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:18, Wed 24 Sept 2008.