"I do hope none of you expect me to sneak effectively. This armour may protect me from harm, but it is not the quietest thing to move around in."

Denira is worried she might jeopardize the mission if stealth was required.

I am no worried about stealth at this point Drake ensures Denira and draws attention that he too is not built for it.

With a shrug and a nod, Amylarn accepts that the group will probably be making a show of force within the next hour. "Very well. It makes good sense to avoid attempting silence when one's wardrobe itself acts against such actions. As I say I have done my fair share of sneaking about and perhaps a little more but I will not admit to being any such an expert as perhaps a cat might be. So let us wait until nightfall at least whereby there are fewer people about to hear our unsilent entrance and let us pray that the brothers Shark do not keep their friends in the city guard close by." When the sun disappears below the horizon Amylarn moves toward the building, keeping herself behind Drake and Denira. As usual, Amy's eyes look all about both to see who is around and to try and spot other dangers as well as possible escape routes in case their endeavor goes terribly wrong.

---

OOC: How long will waiting until sunset delay us? Do any of the PCs want to not wait?

OOC: It is about an hour to sunset, an hour and a half to total darkness.

So far as any of you know, the rending plant is open to the public.  It did not look like the man you spoke to locked the door.  He simply pulled it closed behind him.

In fact...

A fat man with a much-stained apron and roll-up sleeves moves past you on the wooden sidewalk with some grumbled " 'scuse me." and odd looks, especially at maked Denira.

He knockes hard twice on the front door of the rending plant and enters. closing the door behind him.  As the door closes you heard him call out loudly Durken?  Marl?  Any you guys here?

There is an answer from deeper inside the building, but you can not make out any words.

Braving yourselves, you follow the fat man's lead, but instead of knocking on the door, you simply open it as softly as you can, making very little noise as you do so.

You see the fat man is talking to a stout blonde man with thinning hair who wears a leather apron and blood-soaked gloves.  He has a green vest on under the apron.

Tomorrow's fine, Marl, but I need some sort of meat for tonight.  Hear a bard might stop in, and if so, maybe he'll want something a bit more than turnip soup and chicken.

The stocky man nods and leaves for a minute, coming back with a slab of meat that has seen better days.

On the house.  For services rendered, goodman Gart.

The man bows low like at court and the fat man bows, too.  When they both rise they laugh a bit at their jest.

Hell, the coin paid after the mess at the cemetery was nice enough.  I appreciate this...whatever it is.

Lamb, I think.  Wouldn't serve it to your little ones, mind you.

Hell, I wouldn't let them eat nothin' from my place!  Let their momma do the cookin' for a reason, you know!

The men shake hands and the fat man turns to leave.

You do your best to duck out of sight, but both Gart (the fat man) and Marl (the Shark brother in the green vest and leather apron) see you.

Gart's mouth opens in surprise, but Marl is not surprised.

Can I help you folk?  We have some cuts of meat left over from a lamb that was never claimed and some ox that was left over.  Dried fish, too, but you can get them almost anywhere around town.  But ours has some good smoke added for flavor that others don't use.

Gart says Well, I've gotta get this back in time for supper.  See ya, Marl.

He siddles past you and leaves the sloppy store.

Hooks for meat line the walls, and you see the fish in barrels as well as slabs of dried meats that Marl did not offer you for sale.

There are also hides all over the places, most in good condition, but one that is orange/yellow with odd black stripes on the wall is in ratty shape.  It looks big enough to be from a heavy war horse.

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

OOC: Post away.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:57, Tue 17 Oct 2006.

This concept of working as part of a team is causing all sorts of frustration to Amylarn who has been functioning on her own for awhile now. By herself the roguish blonde could come up with a dozen ways to explain her presence in a situation like this. Even explain herself and one or two other people. But this group of five is much more difficult. And Denira’s mask doesn’t make it any easier. Amy hesitates while she formulates a reply that won’t cause an outright attack on her new friends. The silence grows as no one responds right away.

They know this man is Marl Shark. They know Durken came in here not too long ago and the third Shark brother left for town. Amy’s chat just outside the building had made no accusations and in fact she tried to give the man the chance to say he could never be involved in any evil. Instead the man went on the defensive and claimed to be insulted. She decided to try a different approach this time.

”Marl Shark, the meat we seek is live, not dead.” Her smile and tone and taken a grim turn and she held her face partly away from the light to cast her features in unusual shadows. ”Your friends in the City Guard said we should find you here. They said you will have plenty tell us.” The terse short statements are much different than the long speeches her companions have seen up to now. She may be slight in stature but this voice is meant to carry the weight and influence of someone with a great deal of power at their disposal. It would be interesting to see how Marl would interpret her statement.

Amylarn made a mental note to keep her disguises on more often. Lately she has had less chance to prepare them ahead of time. She also decided to ask the others if she could do her information gathering activities with fewer people.

Drake was hoping Amy would talk first. There is no doubt that she has a better chance of persuading another than he does......if it has to be done by words.

Drake also likes the tone and direction she takes in her efforts. There is no need to pretend that these men are innocent.  They are hiding something.  The fighter looks around, noticing that even if they appear alone, they may not be and that there is also a chance that the man who just left may be on his way to get some backup.

At Amy's words, Drake stands up a little straighter and posisions himself in such a way he can see as much as possible. His eyes stare at the man infront of him, but then carefully dart around the room, trying to see behind all the hanging meat in the room.

Marl smiles oddly at Amylarn, then eyes the rest of you.

Not sure which guild you mean, missy, since I don't belong to any myself.

Not sure what you mean by your statement, either, so if you want to drop the riddles and speak plain, I think we can understand each other better.

Otherwise be off, eh?  I have to catch up on some work that's gotta get done, and I'm the only one here tonight.

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

OOC: Investigation/RPing may run slowly, and for that I apologize. It IS a vital part of the game, though, and you are making good headway, I assure you.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:02, Sun 22 Oct 2006.

”You do not hear so well do you? I said you have friends in the City Guard not guild.” Amylarn went on in the same commanding tone but added a sharper edge to the words. ”Drake, Bethany, please help mister Shark’s hearing. Open one of his ears so he can answer our questions.” The girl picked out the two in the group that seemed most capable of physically handling Marl. She just hoped they would take her meaning and play along. Amy knows it’s not her place to give orders but if she is going to be the one doing the talking then Marl must believe the blonde has the authority to carry out her thinly veiled threats.

As Drake passed by she whispered, ”Cut off his ear of you have to make a point.” If Drake managed to catch her eye as he passed he would see how serious she is.

”Come now Marl. Tell us something interesting about the events of the day. Certainly a well connected businessman like yourself knows plenty of interesting things.” Amy was still against asking any specific questions yet. She wanted to get him talking on his own if she could.

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

FROM DM:

OOC: I misread the word "guard" for some reason.  I need trifogles, I guess!

Marl says pretty much this:

I know several of the fella on the guard, myself.  We go out drinkin' sometimes.  Do you know Kylun or Torres?  Nice blokes, they are.

He seems unimpressed by your supposed "connections" with the guards.

Let's say Amylarn says pretty much the same as in the post above.

We'll pick it up with the last paragraph about his having connections in business.

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

The stocky blonde man sniffs and rubs the back ofhis hand across his nose, looking at whatever he has trailed on his hand as he speaks.

Look, miss, if you want to talk business, best talk to Durken or Silrus, who just left a few minutes ago.  They do the books, keep the ledgers, make the sales.  Me and my younger brother Padwin, we just cut the meat, tan the hides, haul stuff, clean.  Manual labor, you know?

You want to talk about what happened out there at that graveyard?  Magic, pure and simple, from the sound of things.

I wasn't up there.  Paddy and me had to cleant he place up and make some room for a delivery that never came.  Silrus and Durken were out there, I think.  Durken said somethin' 'bout having to be there for some reason...taking a girl out to see the who affiar, maybe?  He's quite the ladies' man.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:05, Mon 30 Oct 2006.

It appears that Amylarn has a little mean streak in her. Drake does not mind. He has no objections to how she is handling the situation.  It is obvious that the Sharks are hiding something and they are quite smug about it.  Drake has no soft spot for such people.  He passes Amylarn on the way to make good her "orders" and catches her words to him and smiles.

Drake choses to be slightly more dramatic with his choice of rendering tool, and instead of his usual lightning-quick weapon draw he slowing reaches to his belt and pulls out a well-hidden punching dagger with his left hand.  Drake holds it up to the light. He rarely uses it, but keeps it very sharp and well maintained.

He makes his way to Mr.Shark, as instructed, still very cautious of both, Marl and the surroundings.

As Drake advanced on the Shark, Elodeir did his part by placing one hand on his wand fastened at his belt, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.  He would, of course, prefer handling this in a non-violent solution, but he wasn't opposed to beating some answers out of these men, either. . .

See Amylarn's post for a reply from the Shark brother.

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

Big Marl Shark takes a step back, fear and surprise running across his ruddy face.

Look, if you want to tumble the place, you'll not find a lot.  Durken takes most of the money with him in the morning, then again at night.  He holds it safe in a few places.  He was by before and took most of what we have.

You want the 10 gold he left, take it.

Pressing him for more information, using shows of force and skill, the man swallows hard and continues to step back into the sloppy rendering plant.

When he passes a cupboard, his right hand flashes up, then out.  In it is a nasty-looking knife used in stripping flesh from hides.  It is not the best weapon, but in a pinch, it will do.

Look, I told you what I know, okay?

You think there's shady dealings going on, that'd be Silrus or Durken's affiar, not mine or Paddy's.  We pretty much do the grunt work here, that's all.  They're our older brothers, and they pay us good for what we do here.  Without them,, we'd have no place to stay, no jobs...

I won't betray them, no matter what mess they may have gotten themselves into.

I will tell you this: Durken's been spending less and less time here and more and more time with that witch of his, Constance Ilithrane.  She was in here 'til late the night before the funeral of that killer, drawing things on the walls and moving things about.  And Durken...he just followed her back and forth like a puppy dog.

Bah!  Anyone's done something wrong, it's that _itch!

He...He ain't been the same since they got cozy a month or so back.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:19, Mon 30 Oct 2006.

OOC:

To move things along a bit, we'll say that a mix of intimidation and guile makes Marl listen to your reasoning and you request to see the area where Constance Ilithrane drew on the walls and moved things about before the funeral was to be held.

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

Marl looks forlorn as he leads you down a set of sturdy wood stairs to a basement somewhat larger than the building above it.

Grates in the floor let sluice and waste run out into the sea and racks of blades and sides of meat hang from the damp walls.

There is a long table in the middle of the room and you can see that other smaller tables and some chairs have been pushed to the sides of the room.

Written in what looks like chalk and bone ash are magical symbols that Elodier recognize to be necromantic in nature.  The elf looks at them closely and a shiver runs down his spine.

He realizes that these writings - one on each wall - comprise a series of spells which will rise the dead to a state of powerful undeath.  Thw mad writings serve like spell scrolls and they are imbued with magical energy!

Paddy and I were told by Durken and Cnstance not to come down here, not to touch nothing...let the place be.

We had to do work, but we were told to keep it upstairs, not down here where a lot of work normally gets done.  The sloppier work, you know?

Now please...go.  Don't let me get found with you down here.  Paddy'll be back soon with supper and if he finds me here with you, he'll tattle.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:26, Mon 30 Oct 2006.

Once Marl starts talking Amylarn nods in a satisfied way that their effort is finally producing some results. She listens carefully and critically, searching his face and his tone for any hint of deception. If there was any lying going on here, she wanted to be the only one doing it.

05:06, Today: Amylarn rolled 29 using 1d20+9. Sense Motive on Marl.

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

FROM DM:

Amy realizes that Marl is a few things at once:

1.) none-too-bright

2.) getting a bit frustrated with the PCs and their questioning and perhaps their very presence here

3.) telling them what he knows.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:23, Mon 06 Nov 2006.

It looks like its Durken we want, Drake guesses from the conversation.  The group needs Marl to keep his mouth shut to this brothers about the group's inquirery.  Maybe Amy will be able to convince Marl it is against his best interests to become conspiritors with his older brothers.

See Amylarn's post for a reply.

Marl shrugs and gestures toward town with his head.

If he ain't here, he's with that spooky dame of his.  Or drinking in The Blue Drake, his favorite bar.  Not that nice a place, but he likes it, for some reason.

Amylarn knows that The Blue Drake is known for three things:  Being rough, having women for hire who frequent it, and being a gambling den.

She also knows its location, not too far from where you are now.

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

OC:

As I see it, you have two choices at this point:  Force your way into the rending plant and search it, or go to The Blue Drake.

I can't decide for you, and I hope all players will come on and help decide your course of action.

I will try to get on at least by Wed. to move on in the direction most votes indicate.

XPs have been posted for this month.

When she realizes that Marl is being on the level with them she softens a little. ”Thank you for your help mister Shark.” Amylarn takes a moment to pull a gold coin from her pocket and tosses it to Marl where it is easy to catch. ”Let me give you some advice Marl: Be wary of Durken’s “spooky dame”. In fact be wary of Durken. He may be your brother but that doesn’t mean he has your best interests in mind.” She turned back toward the stairs to go. ”I  see no purpose to tearing apart your establishment to see what else Durken may be hiding.” Amy had stated her opinion. Of course if anyone else had other ideas or some reason they should continue the search they would speak up.

Elodeir watched Amylarn carefully, and let out a sigh of relief as he realized that it would not come to battle there.  Slowly, his hand moved away from his wand, and he visibly relaxed.  "Indeed," he added in agreement, and looked around the street for a brief moment. . .  "I think I'm getting a bit thirsty, though - how about we go have ourselves a drink, now?" he suggested, hoping the others would realize what he really meant - checking out the bar that Durken frequented. . .

Drake slides his blade away, that was still in his hand and joins the others.  It is good to see they have all come to the same conclusion as he has.  Marl is not a threat, but his brother is.

So Drake adds some more advice before exiting. "Durken would not like what you told us, but we are grateful. It would be wise to remember that. If you have any more to share, find Radcliffe, the Bard, he will get us the message." With that Drake smiles sincerely. He does not want to see an innocent be harmed, if there is no need.

Catching Elodeir's inuendo, Drake nods in agreement.

OOC: Good work, all!  XPs for RPing and investigation in this encounter will be added soon!

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

Amylarn leads the way down the docks and then up a sharp hill.  Atop the hill, separated from a home on one side and a dry goods shop on the other by a low stone wall, sits The Blue Drake.

Loud cheers can be heard from within and the smell of a dozen different types of sweat and pipe smoke fills the air outside the rough tavern.

A sign, well-faded from the salt air and sun, announces the name of the tavern and has a blue dragon resting atop a hill of coins, a smile on its face.

The doors to the tavern burst open and a fat dwarf stumbles out, drunker than he is hairy - and that is saying a lot.

He squints up to look at the party, stopping on Elodeir.

...urrrp...  Hey elf, you ain't seen...seen a green leather....leather pouch, have ya?  A r'ward's offer'd if...ya...did...

He stumbles a bit, then bangs his head on the side of a cart parked near the tavern's door.  He starts to snore loudly but Amylarn is surprised not so much by his loud snoring and how drunk he is, but by the oozing blood comiing out from under his shirt and leather vest.

Carefully lifting the shirt tail to look, she sees a wound made by a dagger's tip.  A yellow liquid can be seen around part of the wound.

Poison!

OOC:  PS: Poison use is illegal in Iliptur except to kill vermin.  Dwarves are not considered vermin.

Now, "illegal" in a rough and tumble port like this is sort of like "fair" in the first World Series game this year where the pitcher used pine tar to help hold the ball...

If you don't squawk about it, and loudly, no one will pay attention.  And sometimes when you DO squawk, no one important really bothers to care.

Lifting the shirt a little more to show the others Amylarn says the words out loud to ensure there is no mistaking the gravity of the situation. ”I remember now why I decided not to stop in the last time I came this way. This man has been stabbed by a poisoned blade. And given his intoxicated state I wonder what he could have done to earn such a mark. He did not seem to be any sort of threat to anyone except himself. Maybe he is, or was, important enough for someone to want him dead.” Amy briefly studied the dwarf’s face to see he looked familiar as well as checking his person for anything to identify him. ”No doubt someone will want to know what has happened to him.”


11:24, Today: Amylarn rolled 8 using 1d20+7. Search the dwarf.
OOC: Botched roll! Apparently Amylarn suddenly goes blind and can’t even find the dwarf. DM Mike, can I try again and maybe Take 10 the next time?

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

FROM DM:

Amylarn realizes soon that someone already "tumbled" the dwarf.  He has nothing of worth in his pockets or on his person.  She has never seen this dwarf before, and for all purposes, he looks a bit "normal" for a dwarf living in a human city.

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

Once she has finished trying to identify the dwarf the girl turns to the rest of them. ”You can see this is not a nice place.” The roguish girl did not even entertain the idea of not going in. ”Once we get inside I doubt I will be able to talk our way out of any trouble we find. I will try of course but the blades they carry here are faster than my tongue. I might be able to slow them down a little bit with a more distracting look. Give me just a moment will you?”

Amylarn gave the group a wink and pulled her pack off her shoulders. She went around the other side of the cart. ”No peeking,” she called out. Apparently she went to put on another disguise.


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

PM from the DM:
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:24, Mon 13 Nov 2006.

Drake looks down, indifferent to the poisoning of the dwarf.  If you are going to poison someone, it's not a dwarf that you would want to do it to.  Even intoxicated, the fellow will probably shake off any ill-effects the poison may add, when he awakes.

The situation of the dwarf also does not change Drake's mind to go get a drink. He has dealt with all kinds of people, assassin to saint.  He lets Amylarn finish her change and awaits to see if any of the others are troubled by  the dwarf.

OOC: Since they have not posted, I guess they are not bothered about the poisoning.

Replies in Amylarn's post above.

And I will move along with the encounter, hoping you will forgive me for leading this by the nose, but I can only get on and post once or twice a week now, so each post has to really move the game forward.

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

Amylarn comes out from behind the wagon and looks...much different.

It is hard to believe that this young woman, who you first met as an old woman, is now the same woman who is now the woman of ill repute that stands before you.

Three big men, one with almost no clothes on, one with hardened learher armor on, and the third with what looks like scratches from a woman on his right cheek, come out of the tavern. Each is sweaty and smell of that sweat and the ale that has been drizzled down their necks.

The one with the scratches sees Amylarn and makes a protective sign over his chest.  Gods, not another one.  Alla them's in a bad mood t'day!

The one with armor on laughs but stops short as he sees the rest of the group standing near the poisoned dwarf.  He lowers his gaze and puts his hands on the hilts of his swords, but does not draw them.

And what be your business with that scum, people?  He sang the blues about losing all his coin?  Well tough!  He lost it to gambling fair and square!

Yup, just like I lost me vest, shirt, and pants in there! the other man chuckles, pointing to the bar with his thumb.

The one with poor gambling skills and a few scraps of clothes on sidles up to Amylarn and puts his meaty arm around her.

But that don't mean I don't got a few more coin ta spend tonight.  Got it hid good, I do.

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

Hope the other players post this week.

I will try to get on by at least mid-week.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 05:05, Tue 21 Nov 2006.

Now, this was, without a doubt, the Dragon Coast which Elodeir was born and raised on - a poisoned dwarf was given no thought at all, unless he happened to be wealthy (and then, he would have been robbed blind before Elodeir could have blinked an eye, he was sure).  He didn't like it very much, but it was home, and this was as far from his home in Westgate as he had ever gotten - probably as far as he ever would go, too. . .

As the barely clothed man laid an arm around Amylarn, Elodeir reached for his wand slowly, wanting to be ready - just in case anything would happen.

When Amylarn had come out from behind the cart none of her new friends would have recognized her, which of course was the point. She had teased her hair into sultry waves and <ahem> added some padding to her shirt. She put on too much makeup and draws in exotic curls on the corners of her eyes. The long skirt had been swapped out for a much shorter one. The addition of an air headed giggle completes the new look.

The way she looks and plans to act will definitely draw attention away from her friends. At least she hopes it will. It works almost at once as some rowdy men come out into the night. Clearly they see the heroes and they see that the party is armed but none of them make a move to fight. One comes right up to Amy where he would be easily cut down by Drake or Bethany.

The half naked one gets all friendly with the blonde girl and she gets all friendly right back. Amylarn puts both hands flat on his bare chest and rubs while watching his eyes. She ignores the smell. "Got it hid good huh? Weeelll now aah doubt you got 'nuff pockets left to hid the coin it'd take to spend on me." Amylarn winks in an obvious way at him. "You come back with fifty gold lions and we will talk s'more." By naming such a high price she hoped to douse the man's hopes without flaming his anger. But even if he moved to strike her, Amylarn knew she was in the company of heroes. She had seen them fight. She blew a kiss at the man and moved away from him heading for the tavern door.

Just a little away from going in the imitation hooker stopped to speak to the group. "This is my idea. You all find Durken or Constance and try to get them to go outside where we can ask them some questions...or tie 'em up if it comes to that. I will ask around if anyone knows what evil business they are about. If it looks like there is about to be a fight I will...make a distraction for you. Use it to take the advantage or to make an escape, whichever seems more successful. What say you all to this idea?" Amy really doesn't want to tell everyone what to do but she would sooner give the smelly drunk a romp in the hay than go into the Blue Drake without a plan. "If anyone has a better idea I am glad to hear it."