"Yeah, well the dragon's broken, innit? And the orc lady is in the wind, so ain't no one can fix it at the moment."

Both of these statements were technically true. Baern simply hoped the human didn't require more specifics.

"So you get us."

"Buck up, guv. Could be worse. Could be you get nuffin' and nobody. So instead of griping about things we don't have a say in, why don't you put us to work? That is, if you're about done trying to turn my mate here into a pincushion."

With a brief touch of concentration, Vecaal sent his voice into the heads of most of his companions through the Whispers.  [I count eleven in the trees.  By their stance and their accuracy, none look very skilled.  Don't know why they hate Kreo so much though.]

[See if you can get them to open up about the next step, Baern.  Dragonfather's been delayed.  What's the dragon needed for, anyway?]

Satisfied he understood the threat of these would-be ambushers, Vecaal straightened up to his full height, even puffing his chest out slightly.  Let these dragon-worshipping cultists soak up one with actual blood in his veins, rather than oil and grease.  Maybe that would bolster Baern's confident words with those hidden amongst the trees.

OOC:
Establish Whispers with Baern, Kreo and Procz.  Connection Lasts up to 5 hours. Sorry Frack, 3 is my current maximum and your helmet blocks my transmissions (er..or something like that.  Yah, the helmet...). :)
10:15, Today: Vecaal Alifras rolled 5 using 1d8.  Whispers duration.

Frack wasn't the smartest fellow in most of his encounters, but it didn't take Sprazzle Cognelius to realize a purple faced man waving around a loaded crossbow like that was a danger to everyone. He readied his shield just in case he fired it.

"Would've known who you were if you had the bloody dragon with you," the man murmured. His words were belligerent, but his tone was chagrined. To the evident relief of even his own companions, he stopped waving the loaded crossbow around.

Ten more figured emerged from the trees, an assortment of elves, humans, and gnomes plus a halfling, a kobold, and a firbolg.

"What's the plan, then?" the fat man asked, sounding exceedingly put upon. "How are we supposed to find the pyramids or whatever they are without eyes in the sky?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:29, Sat 11 May.

Kreo nodded to Frack as the paladin healed him, pulling the quarrel out with a wince and letting the magic do the rest

He fixed the last man to have spoken, the fat man, with a rogueish grin even as he winced

"Is it not said the people of these streets can make do with anything, can overcome any hardship? Why, you even almost slew me . . . do I know you perhaps? Surely I've not offended you in some way?"

OOC: Persuasion of 20

Frack adjusted his helmet defiantly when Kreo spoke, planning to add a yeah, why you shooting at him?, before deciding to stay quiet. He remembered the words of his mentor, Rom Redshield: Sometimes the best words are the ones unsaid. He had said this a lot to Frack when he was alive, so the goblin figured it must be very wise advice indeed.

The man looked first confused, then irritated. He seemed to be a man who moved quickly from the former to the latter.

"You're that mouthy union man, aren't you? Wouldn't have thought to see you working with The Descendants. But then I guess you wouldn't have expected it of me, either."

His face grew a bit less purple as he spoke, as if he were talking himself down from the temper he'd worked himself into.

Kreo, you still do not recognize this man, though he seems to expect you would. From the way he's talking about the unions and the fact that he recognizes you, you believe you at least know his type. He's probably one of Crock Cognelius's middle-aged middle managers, a man who devoted his life to serving the gnomish industrialist and had hoped to be higher up in the organization than he is at this point in his career. Such men are often disgruntled, which the workers attribute to the recognition that he's reached his nadir and decided the sacrifices were not worth it. Unfortunately, such men rarely have the self-awareness to acknowledge this and so often take their frustrations out on those beneath them.

As a reminder, the Dragonfather, Klaus Jacop was also one of Crock's managers, albeit a more successful one in charge of an entire factory.

"We have some notions on how to pinpoint their location without the aid of the mechanical dragon." Said Procz, which wasn't entirely untrue. "We have some arcane resources at our disposal." His telekinetic powers made a small piece of rock float up from his hand. `

"First, I would like you to inform us about what you have been told regarding the pyramids. We wouldn't want to have to explain something we all already know. Furthermore, we might need a lot of manpower to complete the recovery. How many men have you got here?"

Baern nodded in wordless acknowledgement of Vecaal's suggestion but before he could give voice to the dragonborn's concerns the middle manager supplied an answer all on his own.



So that was why they needed the dragon...

"The plan," Baern said decisively. "Is lunch. We've been marching all morning, and my dogs are barking."

"We can talk shop with some food in our bellies. Am I right, big fella?" he said with a throw away to the firbolg.

Frack continued to heed the wise words of his former mentor, keeping silent while the others discussed plans. He admitted to himself that lunch sounded like good idea and hoped the fat man would agree.

"Something fresh, I hope!" Vecaal snapped, following up with a toothy grin.  "But back in the trees.  A shady picnic, yes?"

And out of sight from prying eyes.  There they could glean all they could from these henchmen, with questions like Procz and Baern had asked.  Then decide how to use them properly.

The big dragonborn waited for Baern to start walking before he moved to follow, trusting his companion to gauge the crowd appropriately.

"Lunch?! You were supposed to be here ages ago. We nearly left. And now you want to stop for a snack? Absolutely not."

"I dunno, boss," the firbolg chimed in. "I could go for a-"

"Shut up, Luven!" the large man snapped. "The little man's wise to the Athenaeum now. Only a matter of time until he sends his own people out here to investigate. You want to be around for that? No, I didn't think so."

He turned his ire - and his crossbow - back to the new arrivals. "It happens now. Let's go."

He began walking. The others with him followed, a few shrugging or casting apologetic glances at those they misunderstood to be their reinforcements.

Frack was still standing next to Kreo when the fat man went off on his second tirade. He wrinkled his nose in honest disappointment, looking first to the satyr and then to Procz for clarification. "I guess that means no lunch?"

Baern shrugged his shoulders. "Guess not," he said to Frack.

At least they were moving in the right direction though...

With a sigh that settled into a habitual scowl, Vecaal fell in with the others to see where the angry little manager would take them.

The Slopes were not deserted even at this low altitude. Such was the wealth of Coglinton that even after being diverted by so many hands as it flowed down the dormant volcano, enough of a trickle remained for folks to scrape by in the hinterlands. Gone were the lean-tos of The Remnants, for out here, there was nothing to lean on and precious little to salvage. Such homes as there were seemed to be either dug into hills or formed by rolling great boulders against one another and balancing flatter rocks atop them as rooves.

Rocks of all shapes and sizes were the one thing in abundance here. Presumably, the volcanic eruptions of a bygone age had abandoned them here, where they waited for some enterprising hermit to make use of them. The only question was how they'd managed to maneuver the boulders into place, for some seemed far too large for even the strongest humanoid to drag, let alone lift.

"Well?" The irritable manager, his crossbow thankfully holstered, looked to Baern. "Where is it?"

Procz thought hard. He spoke to his companions using the previously activated telepahty and used one of his own spells to include Frack in the conversation. At least his friend could hear and respond to his words, if not the others.

Casting Message.

"I have a theory on where it is, or at least how to find it, although I may be wrong. But we cannot lead these people to it. We must be rid of them."

How far have we moved from the trees? How many have stayed behind there, and how many have accompanied us here?

So let’s lead ‘em on a merry goose chase, and lose them on the slopes, Baern suggested while outwardly stifling a yawn.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 01:09, Mon 20 May.

[Be hard to lose eleven,] Vecaal silently opined.  [But I've got no strategy to send them off peacefully.  Scatter them out searching and try to slip off while we do that, maybe?  Slaughtering the bunch seems wasteful, although they could do with one less manager.]. A seemingly unbidden chuckled hissed out of the Dragonborn's mouth.

[What's the theory on the triangles, Procz?]

Vecaal stood tall, displaying his bulk in the most obvious manner he could.  He didn't want these idiot cultists to think they could push Baern around just 'cause he was a little on the short side.

Vecaal, you actually get the sense that even the manager deflates a bit when loom behind Baern. The others seem downright uncomfortable with his belligerent posturing and the provocative effect it seems to have had on you. These are not seasoned veterans. They're suits who came expecting a cakewalk and are feeling out of their element in the presence of proper warriors.

["It's almost embarrassing to articulate my hypothesis with so little underlying information, but I think we must take to the air to find what we're looking for. It seems logical that dragons back in the day would mark the spot that way. And that must be why the dragonfather wanted the mechanical dragon (in addition to its firepower and intimidating factor). Where can you place marks that won't be seen from the ground, but only from the air? That'll be on top of the stone buildings, made by stones so heavy that it seems mysterious how anyone could have placed them there. Although, only if one does not account for the might of dragons."]

He paused in his mental conversation, looking at the 11 humanoids escorting them, and shook his head.

["It doesnt' seem right killing these people. Can we scare them away somehow?"]

[Watch this.]

Baern patted his pockets. "Where's the doodad? Do you still have it, or did you give it back to me? Ah, here it is."

His hand seized upon a glass monocle on a slender loop. Setting the lens before his eye he turned to scrutinize the landscape intently.

"Blow this for a lark, I can't see nothing. Here Vec, you give it a go."

Baern handed up the monocle.

[Ain't nothing but a piece of glass, but make a fuss of it. Tell 'em its too bright or something and we'll have to wait for dusk to be certain. Maybe hint the fat one can give it a go if he don't believe, and let them go off on their own.]

Baern rolled *Tinted glass monocle that makes things look green* for his trinket way back at character creation. Bout time I put it to good use.

Frack nodded intently when he heard the message from Procz. He wasn't surprised that the kobold had a bead on the luminous aluminum (or whatever it was called). Procz always had a good plan for things. It was one of the many things Frack admired about the constable.

As for getting rid of the fat man and his ten or so friends, Frack was short on ideas. He tried to think of a way, but was quickly distracted by the shiny monocle that Baern handed to Vecaal.

In the interest of keeping things moving, I'm going to assume someone takes Baern up on the suggestion. Vera will, if nothing else! :-)

Oh, and inspiration to Baern for finding a clever way to make use of his trinket!

"Dusk?!" the middle manager's purple face was swollen to the point of popping. "You were supposed to be here last night! With a dragon!

No, no, no. I haven't got another day to wait around for you buffoons. It'll be my ass if I'm caught out here."

He turned to his cohort. "Stay if you want. It's no concern of mine."

They did not want. After seeing the newcomers, they were clearly having second doubts about their fitness for the job, and their leader's departure offered the perfect opportunity to save face. The lot of them walked off the way they'd come from, leaving the party alone with the problem of how to find, for their own purposes, the Athenaeum.

Baern held his tongue until long after the manager was out of earshot before turning a devilish grin on Vecaal. "See? What'd I tell you!" Pocketing the monocle for later mischief he turned to Procz.

"After you, constable."