Radcliffe wishes you well as you leave The Crying Lady and head off into the town looking for the man who should be hiring guards for the upcoming parade and public funeral.

You remember the half-elven bard's description of that man:  "Look for a tall man with a drooping moustache of grey named Harann.  He sometimes wears a suit of chainmail and a vest of scarlet over it.

He's in charge of any day-hires who help in the town, be they guardsmen, hole fillers, or what-have-you.

He's honest, does not expect you to grease his palm, and has the funds upon you to pay right away once the job is done."

You recall passing the town's sole cemetary as you made your way to The Crying Lady tavern, so the going is easy and quick.

As you near the cemetary, you see that about 100 or so of the townsfolk have already gathered for the funeral, and more are coming from all directions.  Soon the small cemetary will be nearly overrun with people.

The man who will be burned on a large pyre, a killer from a foreign land named "The Shadow Slayer" is known to have killed 7 merchants from Ilipur (the town you are now in).   Before that, he is said to have killed merchants and others in Westgate and Sembia.  He has slain over 100 people in all!

It is said by several people in the cemetary that hired mercenaries from Westgate brought The Shadow Slayer down.

It is feared that someone will try to steal the killer's body to try to raise him, ressurect him, or somehow turn him into some form of evil undead.

A soul so black, a person so evil, would surely make a powerful undead monster!

The plan is to take the body from the entrance of the town to the cemetary, then burn the body in a huge pyre, then to spread the askes far and wide.

=========================================================================

Ilipur:







.............................................

North is "up" on the map.

The Crying Lady tavern is the small white building down by the docks to the center right of the map.

The cemetary is north and east of it.  It looks like a fairly empty brown patch of land.

The parade route will go from the town's entrance to the north east of the map, down through a main road to the cemetary.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:34, Thu 01 June 2006.

Shouldn't be too hard to spot this 'Harann' person Denira thinks to herself, looking for a shock of scarlet amongst the more plainly dressed townsfolk before the throng grows any larger.

OOC:

Spot check: 8

Walking amongst everyone Bethany searches for the red vest and from time to time even glances back behind her to see if the man they look for will actually spring forth into her eyes.

Bethany sees the man directing others to move away from the huge pyre that has been constructed.

Harann has a commanding presence, and everyone follows his orders.

As the group moves along the cemetary's trail to meet with Harann, townsfolk start to form into groups of about 4-8 people in each.

The group has to wait for several minutes to talk to Harann, but he notices them as they await their turn to speak with him.  He keeps his eye on them, and when most of the people he was directing have left for their tasks, he moves his head in a "follow me" motion.

He leads you behind a crypt building.

I am Harann, and I assume you know that I hire help in Ilipur at the authority of the mayor.

From the looks of you, you have some experience at arms and such.  That's good.

I can offer you 70 golds - legal tender all around the Coast - if you keep rabble away from the body that's being brought here.

Stand guard right here near the pyre, then, as the body is take from the wagon that will be bringing it, watch it close.  Attack anything that makes a move for it.

Stay with the pyre, even as it burns.  Stand safe away so as not to get burned, of course.  But stick as close as you can.  Watch the body burn until it is naught but ash.

A priest of Lathander named Garrik will be in charge of getting the ashes.  He's taller than I am and has a long red beard.  Once he issues his prayer and seals the container of the ashes, all is done and I'll pay you.

Understand?

Harann expects he is understood, but waits for questions.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:37, Mon 05 June 2006.

Drake again, considers this job a 'useless' one, but still has nothing better. Since it looks like the rest of his travel-mates are interested in taking it he will stay with them to help.  Drake does little more than nod in acknowledgement of the directions.

Denira never likes taking orders from men but this is a completely different culture here. Magic-adept children aren't removed from their parents at an early age, it's not just women who patrol the streets to keep order and the men aren't all drunken, smelly louts!

Still, it was unusual for men to be giving orders to her and she wasn't used to it yet.

"Of course, sir." she says, trying to hide the slight scowl she has on her face, only to remember that she is still wearing her mask.

OOC: Awaiting the arrival of one new PC to the group, then we'll move on to the pyre area.

Elodeir rushed through the streets of Ilipur, hoping to find this Harann he'd been told of soon.  The half-elf brushed his long, dark hair away from his eyes as he started to get closer to where Harann was supposed to be.  He hadn't had much to do since he got to the town, and he wouldd jumped right at the chance of guarding the funeral pyre.  As he finally spotted someone who resembled the description he'd gotten, talking to some group of people.  He quickly moved over there, but didn't speak up yet, letting the man finish his busines with the others first.

Thinking the dark-haired half-elf was with the party, Harann huff out You're late, but go up with your friends and get into position.

The moustached man then goes off, bellowing orders to his three or four assistants here.

It seems like Harann will be heading to the town's entrance and riding along with the casket.

--------------------------------

The group looks to each other and back to the half-elven newcomer as they make their way toward the pyre.

One old woman wobbles up to Drake and hands him a single red rose.  Thank you, brave soul, she says, smiling.

Some men nod as the party passes.  They are too humble to say "thank you" aloud, but honorable enough to know they would not be caught dead doing the hard work of adventuring for a living.

An older man in battered scale mail stands near the pyre.  His face is like stone, and when you appoach, his eyes dart nervously from face to face, stopping long on Denira's strange mask.

Harann, he would not listen to me, but old Horst has some strength left in his arms, and his sword is still sharp.  He stands proudly, ready to join you, and not moving away from his spot at the head of the pyre.

----------------------------

OOC: The group stands around the pyre, spread out around the tall pile of sticks and wood.

A large torch soaks in a kettle of oil and three tindertwigs are on a small stone at the foot of the kettle.

You know that either Harann, the mayor, or a cleric will light the pyre.

Feeling antsi for combat Bethany draws her blades and sets her self moving from foot to foot in a slow calculated manor.  Eyes dart from every person in the mass and to the new groupie.  You are not known to me right off hand friend.  Who may you be so we may be properly introduced if we are to work together?  My name is Bethany, I am hunter by trade but am skilled with the blades so i help my friends with tracking when the time comes.

Bethany smiles and a twinkle can be seen in her eyes as she is ready for a job.  Though this may be boring at first, with a city full of humans and dead man that more then one person wants she thinks she will be enjoying herself should  fight break out.

Quietly, Denira sidles up to Drake.
"Paranoia may serve us well. Trust noone & be careful with that rose. You might 'prick your finger'."
She looks over the man in the scale mail with the same amount of suspicion she had just given the old lady. Denira was an experienced guard and when given duties she often went into a paranoid state of mind, becoming edgy. She had always been taught that the machinations of Thay never slept and to always look out for any possible thing that might indicate that they were up to their old tricks. She employed the same teaching in this state of mind.
"So, mister...Horst? How do you know Harann? You must understand that I cannot trust you. I am just doing my job."
Bethany could likely handle the elf and the others should be keeping their eyes peeled so Denira was fairly confident she could interview the old man.

The tall old man bows to Denira.

Everyone in Ilipur knows Harann, for better or for worst.

There is a tinge of malace in Horst's voice as he speaks.

He...he thinks he runs the place, and true, he manages things very well and has a good mind for math and measuring things.  But his personality, his demeanor...

I do NOT bow to any man, and I expect none to bow to me.  I ask only for respect and I give it back in return.

For a man who measures money so well with scales that a sage would envy, you'd think he'd understand that sort of thing.


He squints as he looks at your mask, not sure what to make of it.

It is clear Horst is a seasoned warrior, but he probably did not travel much out of the immediate area.

"Indeed, well, you sound as if you have a grudge against our employer. I shan't ask you what it is but unless you give me adequate reason I shall have to ask you to move on. With all due respect, I cannot risk you being at our backs. Rumours tell that an attack is likely and I for one refuse to take any risks by trusting strangers.

Now please, I don't want to have to ask you again."

Denira leaves it at that, hoping Horst will leave and goes back to patrolling, alternating her stares to the surrounding area & the conversation Bethany is having with the elf.

Horst huffs and his face goes red, his eyes go wide.

What the HELL?  How DARE you!  YOU!  Some out-of-towner, from...Gods knows where!  Tell ME, a life-long citizen of Ilipur what to do?

Girl - and I assume you are young, from your brashness - show respect for your elders, and for a man who defended this town from attacks of aquatic trolls and a dragon turtle!

I shall NOT "move on" just on your say so, and if you want to sully this day, then take arms, but I shall not be the one to attack first.

He purses his lips and stands tall, but from the darkness on his face and the way his hands shake, you can tell he is riled up.

Denira swoops back around onto the man, her robe flowing elegantly.

"I asked thee 'nicely'. We have been given a job and I intend to do it with the least risk possible. Now please, move along. You are distracting me from my duties. Do whatever else you wish but you must leave the immediate area.

I cannot trust what you say on "your say so" either but if there is even the slightest chance of any of my party being hurt due to your presence then by The Hidden One I shall call the proper authorities and strike you down if I must. Now, if you truly intend for your city to be as safe as possible you will do what I ask."

As opposed to Horst, Denira just barely managed to keep her temper in check. She had been given orders by one man today and that was bad enough but by another? That was pushing it. She was an officer of the law, born and bred and it was her duty to carry it out.

Horst stands his ground for a solid minute, his jaw moving to the left, then the right, as he is clearly grinding his teeth.

Finally he moves close to Denira and hisses in her face Harann may be an oaf, but he is not an insensitive little whore who can't show her face in public.

Once this is over, he'll hear of this!

The man starts to walk away and some of the townsfolk point at you and murmur, clearly not pleased you've apparently forced Horst to move on.

There there, Horst.  We know you're a hero true, even if this lot doesn't.

I remember how you saved my pa, and for that, I am ever grateful.  You'll do better away from that rabble anyhow, Horst.  Maybe there at the front gate?

Horst smiles and waves at the locals who call out to him.

And a chilly wind breezes through the cemetary.

--------------------------------

OOC: 50 XPs for RPing, Denira.

"I am Elodeir, and I weild magic as my weapons," Elodeir answered, before taking forth his sturdy crossbow, holding it with one hand.  It was still not loaded, so it presented no immediate danger to anyone.  "As well as this, I suppose, if my magics should run out.  A pleasure to meet you, Bethany," he said, and a cheerful smile crossed his face.

...

As the older man and the masked woman exchanged words, Elodeir silently listened, starting to worry about the man, and he reckoned the woman had been right in sending him away.

That encounter had left an ashen taste in Denira's mouth. Still, she had been called worse in her past, although usually by barbarians drunk on Jhuild. That man seemed lucid enough, if a bit full of himself. She bacame all the more determined to carry this mission through now. She started a patrol route, nearly stomping along it in frustration.
She didn't doubt her actions at all, she was just glad that Horst had left without a fight.
Her eyes scanned the area again but she didn't want another confrontation, so she left the elf to Bethany.