OOC: By the end of this post, some of you might be thinking: "naaah... he couldn't possibly". To which I reply: Yes, he could. Quite possibly in fact.

A somewhat cleaner, somewhat saner, somewhat less tired Akane leads the party to the bridge to Carp... To find Uldus waiting for them, wringing his hands, burdened by two heavy metal bracelets around his wrists. A metal collar is secured acround his neck, and even though he is not wearing any chains, it's pretty obvious that the new accessories are actually restraints of some kind.

Akane approaches the harried Vanara with a frown; "Uldus. What's wrong?"

The simian shudders lightly as he replies: "Grand Marshall Naranjer. He's at the Manor."

Akane pales and shakes her head: "You're joking... Tell me you're joking."

"You can't get in like that Akane."

"No... I suppose not." Akane sighs, and a moment later her form changes to that of a furry humanoid with a fox head.

She removes her weapons and her catsuit, which turns into a silvery chainshirt the moment she slips it off, and gives them to Uldus. She doesn't seem to mind the fact that her modesty is now covered only by her fur, but then again, it's a pretty thick fur, and it provides a very thorough coverage.

From her backpack, she removes a silvery metal collar, lighter and shinier than the one around the Vanara's neck, which he proceeds to snap on, followed by two silvery bracelets which she puts on her wrists. They imediately adjust so that they can no longer be removed, confirming their nature as a set of restraints.

With a deep shuddering sigh, she turns around to face the party: "Listen. Aneri zo Naranjer is in town. He's a Grand Marshall of Asmodean. Think of him as a traveling magistrate... Except he can also be jury and executioner if he so decides. Normally, a Grand Marshall knows the law like the palm of his hand. This is devil country, however: he doesn't just know the law, he is the law. Please be careful what you do and say around him. He killed men for looking at him the wrong way, then sold their families into slavery as a fine."

An idea strikes her and she turns back to Uldus: "Did he say if he would be in town for long? Maybe we can just come back after he leaves."

Uldus looks apologetic: "That wouldn't help. He's looking for you."

A quiet whine escapes Akane's lips. "Did he say why?"

"I think he wants to... Deputize you."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:52, Fri 20 July 2018.

After summoning the manor's servants to lead everybody else back to their rooms, Akane follows the corridor to the Black Room, the one where Zhorr meets those guests that have clearly shown their allegiance to Asmodean.

The decorations are obviously set to match, and the small shring behind Zhorr's large desk is dedicated to the Lord of Hell.

Naranker is sitting comfortable opposite Zhorr, room, making small talk. His outfit is as simple as it is unusual: black leather pants, and a black duster; a high-crowned, wide-brimmed black hat is sitting on the desk in front of him. Just above his heart, a silvery unholy symbol of Asmodean, his badge of office shines in the light of the magic torches.

Akane's eyes are attracted by the smoking holster resting on his hip, which she knows to contain Naranjer's gun, the Big Iyrn, said to have been forged in Hell and blessed by Asmodean himself. Eternally spouting the smoke from the fires of Hell, says the legend.

Since Iyrn is the gnomish word for a firearm, however, Akane has a strong suspicion that it was actually forged by the gnomes in Bristlewerk, not that she would ever challenge the legend of the Big Iyrn within earshot of the Grand Marshall.

Naranjer turns when she knocks, and Akane finds herself thinking that he's a surprisingly handsome man - for a human at least. His hair is a light brown with a slight reddish undertone that wouldn't be out of place in a member of her own race, and his piercing grey eyes seemed to look straight into her soul... Which they might, for all she knew: he was, after all, a grand Marshall of Asmodean. ""Ah, your fox is here... Well, I see you finally learned how to dress properly in the presence of your betters. It seems there's hope for your pet yet, van Lyre."

"As you say, Grand Marshall." Zhorr replies noncommittally, carefully maintaining a blank expression.

Sensing Zhorr's anger, Akane speaks up: "Lord Marshall... You required my presence?"

Naranjer sighs in mild irritation: "Still talking out of turn, I see. Well, I suppose animals can't be expected to know any better. I came to deliver a message to your master: the Right Honorable Count of Brastlewerk has seen fit to offer van Lyre the title of Baron of Carp. The count simply requires a minor service to be performed first, to confirm that the newly-appointed Baron is conscious of his duties and capable of performing them.".

A few seconds later, he nods approvingly noting that aAkane has remained silent. "You train your animals well, van Lyre. You wouldn't believe how many times I've had to have slaves flogged for not being able to retain simple concepts in their tiny minds. Tell me, pet, Have you heard of a half-beast outlaw named Terk 's Harksred?"

"Terk... 's Harksred, my Lord? Are you certain?"

Naranjer inclines his head: "You heard of him, then?"

"Ah, no My Lord, it's just... 'Terk of the Great Harring' seems like a really bizarre name, even for an Orc, my Lord. Are you sure it's not 's Harksradu, 'of the Great Mountain'? Or perhaps 's Harksråd, 'of the Great River'?"

Naranjer sighs - in a bizarre, slightly effeminate way that doesn't quite seem to fit him: "It could be 'of the great steaming pile of excrement', for all I care, fox. If it will set your mind at ease, I'd say they named his clan ironically. He is, after all, only a half-beast. It doesn't matter: he's an outlaw, and your task is to bring him to jutice, not write his biography. Alive or dead is of little import. Your master vouched for your cunning. See that you don't disappoint him."

"Y-Yes, my Lord. Ah..."

Naranker quirks an eyebrow: "Yes?"

"Is he also an iyrn wielder, my Lord?"

The Marshall's small laughter also really doesn't seem to fit him: "My, my... I'm impressed, van Lyre, your pet might truly be as intelligent as you made her out to be. Yes, the 'red, or 'rade, or whatever he's called, does in fact possess an iyrn. Two, in fact. Though you needn't worry about meeting the Big Iyrn's match: it would take decades for the gnomes to make another like her, not that they would dare, of course. No, his weapons are common pieces of metal. You should have no problems at all dealing with him. I wouldn't send an animal to do the job of a man, after all."

Only the slightest twitch on Zhorr's face betrays his feelings as he again considers, and is forced to discard, the many possible ways that he could make Naranjer suffer an unfortunate accident.

He stands and approaches Akane: "By the power beswoted upon me by the Lord and the Crown, I hereby name you Deputy Marshall of Hell and Land. May you perform your duties with the blessing of the Lord, or suffer His ire."

He looks around for a moment: "Now, where did the boy go?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:36, Mon 23 July 2018.

"I'm here Lord Marshal..." says a reluctant voice from a corner of the room that isn't quite as well lit as the others.  As he speaks up, Artus finds himself wondering for perhaps the dozenth time just why he'd accepted this job from Naranjer in the first place.  For the dozenth time, he is forced to remind himself of the harsh reality that he has learned over the last few months since leaving home with a dream of avenging his father's reputation as an honorable man... namely that no-one wanted to give the son of a man viewed as a betrayer and breaker of contracts a chance to redeem their family name.

Naranjer had been the only one willing to consider hiring Artrus, and even that had only happened after Naranjer had heard about an... incident in one of the local watering holes that had come near enough to getting Artrus imprisoned... or worse.  Unfortunately, the circumstances had left Artrus very much on the weaker side of the negotiations, so while the job would still pay decently enough and would hopefully be a stepping stone to further work, Artrus had not been in any position to turn it down either.

Stepping forward, Artrus is revealed to be a young adult in the prime of his youth.  Garbed in a breastplate that appears to be well cared for, if relatively unblemished or showing any signs of use, Artrus' most defining feature is easily the short, red hair that sets him apart from most of the humans in the area.  His green eyes look at Akane with a small measure of curiosity mixed with annoyance.  On his back hang a steel shield and a bastard sword in a scabbard.  Though Artrus is certainly young and likely inexperienced in actual combat, the way he moves demonstrates that he has at the least been VERY well-trained and likely knows how to utilize his arms and armor very effectively.

Naranker raises an eyebrow in his direction: "Hm... Yes, very well. VanLyre, this is Junior Deputy Inquisitor Artrus Genald, Provisional. He was supposed to accompany you, but since you have been so... Insistent... That your pet can take care of the situation in your stead... I suppose he can supervise her instead." He pats Akane's head patronizingly.

"I'll admit, when you told me your pet was out on an errand, I was afraid I'd have to stay in this... Village... Much longer." He grabs his hat and sets it on his head with a fluid move: "Nonetheless, I will spend the night at that inn you spoke so fondly about. Come find me if you have any doubts."

Akane watches the Grand Marshall leave, closing the door behind himm at which point she relaxes fractionally, looking at the newcomer warily.

Artrus rolls his eyes at the obvious suspicion radiating off of the kitsune.  "No need to be trying to kill me with glares Foxy Lady.  I'm about as thrilled with this assignment as you are, but I'm getting paid to make sure you don't get killed and while I may not particularly care one way or another, the money coming my way does... and I take money very seriously."  Crossing his arms, the kid seems to be a mix of contradictions, the stance and bearing of a professional soldier with the attitude and mouth of a teenager with a very large chip on his shoulder.

"So since I'm not particularly into the whole 'pet' ruse, and based on the glares you're shooting me, you're not either; why don't you see about getting us out of here so you can get more comfortable and I can learn about just what sort of mess I've gotten myself into here."

Akane relaxes a little more: "Well then... If we help each other, I'm sure we can get things done without stepping on each other paws... Toes... Too much. And you're right, I should get more comfortable."

With that, Akane shapeshifts back to her usual human shape (a petite girl with dark hair and black almond-shaped eyes) - and Zhorr facepalms. Akane eyes him curiously: "What? What? He knows I'm a shapeshifter!"

"Akane..." He gestures vaguely at her, and she looks down, realizing that she forgot an important detail - namely, her clothes.

Shapeshifting back to her fox form, she chuckles, slightly embarrassed: "Ah! Sorry about that. Let me show you to your room, and then I'll grab some clothes. They tell me it's not polite to run around in the nude."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:20, Thu 26 July 2018.

A bright flush suffuses Artrus' face as Akane shifts back into her (nude) human form.  He quickly glances away out of embarrassment as Zhorr reminds Akane.  It seems that in spite of the chip on his shoulder, there is still some small amount of innocence left in the boy after all.

When Akane shifts back, Artrus cautiously checks that she is 'decent' again before returning his gaze towards her, though it takes some time for his skin to stop competing with the redness of his hair as to which is brighter.

Following along with Akane as she starts to direct him towards his room, Artrus asks, "So the Lord Marshal has told me a little bit about your crew, but he didn't seem to care to know much in the way of details... where are the rest of them at this point?  What sort of resources are they?  I learned some small measure of tactics during my combat training and would prefer to have some idea of the capabilities that we have available to us if I am to be... assisting you..." His last words seem to drip with distaste.  It's hard to tell whether the distaste is directed at Akane herself, the assignment, or some other factor that Artrus has yet to voice.

Lia seems a little worried at that: "Well... The Grand Mrshall's information was probably a bit out of date. Gods I hope it was out of date... Anyway, Lia is the only one of the old guard who's still around: I haven't seen Stella in a while, and everybody else tended to be around on an 'as needed' basis." She considers for a moment: "My current... Companions... Well, there's Aran, our resident hothead. He's charming, opinionated, and is a strong believer in equality. No, I don't know what he's doing in Cheliash, I suspect a divine punishment of some sort."

She opens a door to a small antechamber, and guides Aran through a living area into a small but nicely furnished bedroom: "Your rooms. Feel free to make yourself at home."

She points to a silver bell on the nightstand. "This will summon an Unseen Servant to take care of your immediate needs. Make sure to state your orders clearly, they aren't very smart... In fact, technically, they have no intelligence at all."

She rings the bell, then proceeds to continue her description of her companions as she waits for the servant: "Leonia, the wizard, obviously very smart. I think she wants to bend the world over her knee and give it a much-needed spanking. I know Zhorr has already set aside a selection of spells to help her with the task. Zhorr has lots of useful spells, money, and arcane knowledge. She has the potential to become a great troubleshooter, and Zhorr is willing to share a lot of his knowledge to keep her interested."

The Unseen Servant taps on the floor to announce its presence, and she orders: "Fill the bath tub, hot water."

She turns to Artrus and grins - the human way, thus showing a lot more teeth than she normally would had she not spent so long in human form: "Yes, we do have hot baths on command. And yes, I am looking forward to taking one myself, so I'll be nrief."

"The last member of our team... Dakash. He is a proper nice guy, I'd even call him a divine servant of good. Doesn't mean you should get on his bad side, though, he can be downright scary when he's mad. He also seems to be the only one who can... Well, it's a long story."

After a moment, she continues: "Listen, I know Naranjer wants us to catch this Terk Herring guy, but we really need some time to prepare. I'm sure Zhorr will be happy to make it worth your while."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:40, Fri 27 July 2018.

Artrus still feels a little unsure about Akane and whatever role she seems to play in relation to Naranjer, but he mentally shrugs.  Whatever the drama involved there, he had a simple job to do... keep an eye on her and her group and make sure they didn't die.  Artrus just hoped that this job would do what he was hoping and make him able to be marketable in the mercenary field again.  The one thing he was sure about is that at some point he'd run across the bastard that had destroyed his father's reputation and make the man pay.

"Not going to turn down the opportunity for a hot bath and R&R before a job... know better than that given that we may not have another chance for some time.  I'll take some time to refresh myself then... when and where should I find you?"  As he speaks Artrus begins removing some of his armor, though he does balk at removing any of his clothes until after Arkane leaves, looking a bit awkward as he pauses.

"You can ask the servats to deliver a message if you need something, otherwise I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast in the main dining room." Akane quickly explains to Artrus how to reach the key areas of the manor, and takes her leave with a small bow.

Artrus takes advantage of the accommodations made available for him that Akane informs him of.  He hadn't been lying when he said he was well aware of the need to do so when opportunity made it possible.  Though his personal experience in the mercenary lifestyle was limited, his father had made such lessons very clear for Artrus as he'd been growing up.  Though his father had always intended such lessons to be more about bonding moments between the two of them... Artrus had taken them to heart for a much different reason.  He'd never truly known the man his father had been before having his reputation destroyed, Artrus had seen how his father's eyes had shone with nostalgia at remembering the life he'd left behind.  He'd grown to hate the man responsible for diminishing his father so and had vowed while still young that he would restore his family's honor.

The next day, Artrus heads down for breakfast fully armored and armed.  Though he knew that he should be able to feel safe after sleeping in this place, he still wasn't sure about these people he was supposed to work with.  Though his own prejudices weren't as extreme as the Lord Marshal's, he didn't fully trust Akane as he'd heard too many stories about Kitsune and their kind making use of their shapeshifting abilities to make fools of men.  In addition, these other people were still wild-cards in his mind in spite of Akane vouching for them... or perhaps it was BECAUSE of Akane vouching for them that he preferred to remain careful.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Let me know if something occurs to change matters, otherwise, I'll assume that we can skip to morning so that we can get everyone else involved in the posting again.

---

Since leaving the swamp, Aran has been uncharacteristically quiet and contemplative. Not long after... whatever happened, Aran cast cantrip after cantrip until he couldn't any more. Every now and then, a look of hope would come across his face and he'd belt out a magical phrase and snap his fingers, but it would only resort to disappointment. Eventually he was able to determine the limits of his magic.

He spent a good portion of the night contemplating whether or not to bug Dakash and Leonia about this turn of events, but he instead chose to rest himself to face whatever nonsense there was to face in the morning.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Mon 30 July 2018.

The tall, wooden door carries upon it a buckler in the shape of a downward leaf. Its black-pitted silver is tarnished from age. As the party approaches, the oaken door opens, seemingly on its own. The air spilling out of the room beyond is warm and moist, though much more pleasant than the recent wetland weekend.

The chamber is large and octagonal, light spilling in from a trapezoid of glass windows that make up the opposite three walls. The room goes up all three storeys of the manor before a pattern of hanging, perforated tarps block the open sky.

A series of wells rise from the floor around the room’s perimeter and its center. Their contents are a rainbow of bushy flowering plants, often spilling leafy tendrils to the ground. Where there aren’t plant pots there are scattered benches of polished wood. The benches’ backs are shaped and angled for comfort. A pastoral affair, all told.

A short woman with long and curly brown hair stands by the window with her back to you. Her attire is a cascade of several silken colours atop a dress skirt ending at her calves. However, sturdy boots implies some practicality to her. The woman is presumably staring out the windows into the green. As she waits, she fidgets with a bracelet of wooden beads in the sepia hands behind her back.

Back in her human form (this time with clothes), Akane leads the party into the room. "...so I thought we could debrief in Lia' atrium. I find it's very relaxing, plus she likes showing it off when she can, even though the drought has made it difficult to-" Akane's train of thought derails completely as she sees the woman staring out the window. "Kame? Kame!"

With a squeal, she pounces across the room at the other woman, her form shimmering slightly as she switches from her normal human shape (which looks a lot like a younger Lia) to another, slightly darker skinned one.

Somehow, the newcomer manages not to be bowled over by Akane's tackle-hug, and the moment Akane's feet touch the ground again she starts literally bouncing around happily. "You're here! You're here!! When did you arrive? Why didn't Dee tell me? Oh I'm so happy!"

She hugs the other girl for all she's worth, then proudly announces to the group: "Everybody, this is my twin sister Kamea."

Understandably, the party is slightly puzzled at the announcement, since, while there is a vague family resemblance between the two, Akane's skin tone is several shades ligher than her sister's, and the two aren't very much alike.

Perhaps sensing the uncertainty, she amends: "We're half-twins."


...


...


"On our mother's side." She adds helpfully.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:16, Mon 30 July 2018.

She always does this. Kamea goes limp in her sister's arms. Struggling would be taken as a sign of continuing the hug, and she'd never stop. But it's been too long. Kamea squirms an arm free to partly return the gesture somewhere on the taller sister's lower back. She closes her eyes for just the moment. Imprint this memory deep in her mind for later. "Good to see you too."

With the untangled hand, the newcomer waves at the strangers in the doorway. "I'm Kamemmph." Her introduction was muffled by her sister's shoulder. Kay. Enough. Kamea ducks down and out of Akane's clutches. A lungful of air. Composure.

"I'm Kamea." Kamea's somewhere in her late teens. Standing straight and regal, she's still small. Dwarves might be taller than her. A couple small scars fleck her round face.  A reading gaze meets each of the strangers. "I only just arrived. Pleased to meet you." Kamea shoots an exasperated look at Akane. "And I'm Akane's sister, yes."

Akane nods sagely: "My baby twin half-sister. Who never visits." She adds with a pout.

Then a moment later she brightens as she spots somebody coming in: "Lia! Lia! Lia! My baby sister's here! See? See?" She

With a tiny smile Lia replies: "Yes, Akane, I think the whole village heard you. Also, you have to decide whether you want to call her your twin sister, your half sister, or your baby sister. People might think you are trying to be confusing on purpose-"

"Well, she's all three! It's not it's my fault. Then she promptly interrupts Lia: "Nope. Not my fault. Not in any way, shape, or form. Nope, nope, nope. Mkay?"

"As you say, dear." Lia acquiesces with a small nod.

Then, Akane seems to remember why she had come here in the first place: "Right... Okay. So, uh... The mission."

Akane recounts the events of the mission to the best of her recollection, explains the strange thing with their magic, and how Dakash insists that things used to be different, with a mysterious missing party member and strange enemies that nobody else remembers.

He asks Dakash a few questions, and seems especially interested in the memory of the memory of a memory related to the "big magic event" that had apparently spawned the ghost butterflies, since there seem to be similarities between the memory of a memory of that distant event and the way Dakash remembers the events of the mission itself.

Finally, she checks the party's magic, and indeed finds that something is odd with their cantrips; after cross-checking with the party's ioun stones he says: "How... Peculiar. Normally, when you cast such underpowered spells, your magic regenerates as you cast. From what I can see, however, something is draining that regeneration."

He paces in thought for a few seconds, then adds: "I can probably return your ioun stones to their normal ability, but doing the same with your natural spells is going to be... Complicated."

Leonia theorizes "perhaps what we need is a temporary fix. Some sort of minor mana generator, possibly utilizing certain types of crystals?"

Aran frowns as the situation is explained, and when Leonia offers up her theory he shakes his head in protest.

"No, we should look directly into the source of what's going on here. Sure, a temporary fix might be buy us some time but without knowing what's going on the problem could get worse and make whatever patch we come up with worthless. We need to figure out why this happened."

Not knowing what to say in response to the... revelations about relationships between group members or having much to add to the reunion, Artrus simply finds himself a corner to sit in and sharpen his sword, shield leaning against the wall next to him.  As he sharpens the bastard sword in his lap with care, other people who care to look can see that it seems to be a family blade, bearing markings on the hilt and scabbard.  This seems a little out of place for someone who is supposedly a simple mercenary as Artrus presents himself to be.

Artrus simply listens as the group's magic users try to puzzle out whatever this strange thing was that had happened with their magic.  While Artrus was no fool, he also knew better than to try and puzzle out matters about which he had little to no understanding.  The workings of weapons, armor, and physical combat was the realm that he knew... not the arcane matters of the mind and spirit.

He did still catalog what these discussions meant from a tactical standpoint, but it did not seem to be anything he didn't already know.  Spells were a finite resource, no matter how weak they were, the thought that it could have been different somehow frightened him.  Better to rely on sword and shield which would not give out until his very muscles did.

Feeling stupefied, Kamea follows the conversation as it weaves and bobs around the events in the marsh. The descriptions of what happened don't make sense, but trauma can do that to someone's mind. That even the elderly mage can't figure out why her sister's magic is damaged is frightening.

The discussion of butterflies give her an idea. "What if it's a flea?" Kamea posits, trying to tread water in the adults' conversation. Some sort of leech or thing of the swamp that is eating your magic? If I had something chewing on my head, even as a metaphor, that's a good reason to not remember yesterday." A shot in the dark, but it's the best she has.

"Maybe rest a while, see if it goes away?"

Artrus finally stops carefully sharpening and inspecting his blade to speak up, "Don't think the Lord Marshal will care for any delays that he considers unnecessary.  While I don't claim to know his mind, it wouldn't surprise me to learn that such concerns as the magics of a 'pet' not functioning correctly fall under that heading."  As he says the word 'pet' Artrus grimaces as though he finds the use of the word distasteful.

Spitting on his whetstone and rubbing it into the stone absentmindedly, he continues, "In fact, I daresay that if we are not hastening on our way before mid-day we may well find a courier... or worse... seeking us out to learn why we delay.  Mayhaps rest will solve this mystery for you lot, maybe it won't... but I have already had the... privilege of seeing the Lord Marshal's anger once.  I have no desire to be targeted by it.  Worst comes to worst, you can trust in my sword and shield to protect you should your magics fail."

"That may be all well and good, but we practitioners of the arcane arts require rest before we can go out to solve problems anew. I for one need sleep to recover my magic energies, and we've not yet had time for that. So, who exactly do we have to find, and why?" asks the elf.

Zhorr raises his hands conciliatorily. "Alright, alright... The good Lord Marshall will have to learn patience. Or pretend to, anyway. We are going to need several days before we even begin to understand exactly what happened and how to fix it, and given the circumstances I am not confident in sending Akane out without knowing exactly what is wrong. Naranjer wants results more than he wants undue haste, I'm sure."

After a moment to collect his thoughts, he continues: "I agree with Aran that we need to get a better handle on what is going on, and Leonia is correct that we should try to see if there is a way to work around the problem while we work on a solution. As far Naranjer's mission goes, he wanted me to catch an outlaw by the name of Terk s'Haksredm who has been spotted near the mountain village of Cold Waters. You may have heard the name, its water sources are said to have minor alchemical properties."

He looks around, but the name doesn't seem to ring a bell. "Regardless, I explained to him that my duties don't allow me to leave Carp, and I would send a reliable troubleshooter to deal with the issue. However, I don't think our man was looking for a skin treatment in Cold Waters. Since Naranjer gave us such a limited amount of information, we can easily justify spending a couple of weeks to prepare. I will send a couple of messengers to get a better idea of what exactly you will be facing. In the mean time, I will try to find out if there is something that can be done to improve your condition."

Finally, he clears his throat with what looks like mild embarrassment, and says: "On a completely unrelated note... Have you considered possibly taking up residence in Carp on the Wall?"

Senses flare at the mention of a Lord Marshal. Having the military mixed up in this is no good at all. What have Akane and her friends gotten into?

Friends might be a strong term, however. A hired goon, Kamea eyes the swordarm. Or worse, a zealot. Whatever he is, he's too eager by half and overconfident to boot. Kamea knows better than to pick a fight with some military man, but he could at least see reason. She directs a statement at Artrus.

"Zhorr's right. Combat prowess means nothing if you're going in blind. You lot aren't going to wander into Cold Waters and throw a bag over his head. How many people does he have? Do you know what he looks like?  You're keen on bringing this guy back, but what if you nab one of his buddies instead? Present some oaf to your master instead?" Kamea shrugs as if she doesn't care.

The small woman turns her attention back to Zhorr. "I don't tend to stay in one place long. What're you offering, exactly?"

Zhorr considers Kamea's question for a second: "Well, it depends on what you prefer, really. What is it that you want to do? Learn new things? Make the world a better place? Be part of a nice community? Protect the innocent? Or perhaps the old universal motivator... Have lots and lots of money?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:17, Sun 05 Aug 2018.

In response to Kamea's question Artrus huff and says, "Lord Marshal wants us to find some jackass by name of Terk Hakred or some such.  Guess he's causing some issues for shipping around these parts.  As far as learning more about who he is, I'm not really one for learning stuff through careful study or anything.  I'm much more the type to barge in and bully my way through... scare the piss out of someone bad enough and they'll usually fess up to whatever you need to know."  As he speaks, Artrus keeps a smirk on his face as though he's enjoying a private joke to himself.

He continues to smirk at Zhorr's question he knows none of these people would ever suspect what he hoped to gain from this mission, and he didn't feel much inkling to share it.  As far as they were concerned he was the Lord Marshal's hound dog and he was content to let them continue to think as much.  Their opinion didn't matter so much to him as did the ability to restore some semblance of his father's honor.

Kamea tweaks her mouth at Zhorr's sudden interest in maintaining her. It's far more direct than what she would expect from an elder mage. To be honest, Kamea feels odd at how leading the question and its suggestions are. Summoning calm, Kamea clears her throat. "Living in comfort is more my goal, with all things that entails. A lot of things in this world can ruin your life, and I just hope to avoid as many of such things as I can."

Vague, sure. But Kamea wasn't about to be overly honest and forthcoming with so many strangers. Any one of them could use her words against her. Flowers don't open up at night.

Zhorr nods: "Well, well, well. then maybe we can help each other out. The Lord Marshall was mainly here to relay the news that the Count, in recognition of services rendered, has decided to award me the rank of Baron. You may have noticed that I said recognition, not reward. As in, you've done this, so now we expect you to keep doing it: here's the legal basis you need, now go and bring us some money."

A quick word of power and a grandstanding gesture later, Zhorr starts putting together what looks like a crude model of Carp on the Wall. "Let me explain... You may have noticed a number of things about Carp. Such as the fact that it isn't protected by as much as a palisade."

A ribbon of glittering light blue paper to represent the river, a few squat boxes for the houses, rectangles of green and yellow paper to represent the fields. "This is not a mistake. By law, fortifications are only allowed under the personal responsibility of a noble family. Of which Carp had none."

A makeshift "hill", and on top of it a somewhat more faithful representation of Zhorr's home: "The manor itself is no castle: despite some... Decorative elements... That might possibly bear some resemblance to, say, arrow slits, or machicolations, purely concidental, I assure you... At the end of the day the lack of crenellations and outer walls means its resistance to an attack is essentially that of a well-built house."

He looks over at Lia and amends: "A well-built house inhabited by two highly experienced spellcasters, granted, but still, not really a fortified castle. Again, not a mistake: it is illegal for a common citizen to build crenellations and similar fortifications into their houses."

Zhorr then starts modifying the makeshift diorama: a palisade around Carp, the bridge turned into a drawbridge, a wall around the manor, and proper fortifications all around. "A proper Baron's demesne should look more like this: a Baron collects the local taxes for his liege, defends his demesne from attacks, and ensures growth and prosperity. At least in theory. You are the one making sure that the farmers pay their taxes, and yet your liege always complains that they aren't enough, so it's very much a thankless job. It's also the best way to protect the people in Carp from the likes of Grand Marshall Naranjer. No offense, m'sir Genald."

"However, this isn't a job a single man can do. Not even with the help of his beautiful and amazingly skilled half-elf companion." Smiles Lia.

Zhorr nods,and then concludes: "Carp is a growing community, and this appointment is exactly what I needed to ensure that there will be plenty of potential wealth to go around. All it takes is the right people. And completing this assignment from the Count so that the appointment is confirmed."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:06, Sat 11 Aug 2018.

In reply to Artrus Genald (msg # 25):

An elven woman looks puzzled, then says "your accent makes it sound like we are pursuing an individual named Terk Red Herring? Sounds a bit fi--, no, I won't finish that awful pun. Are you sure of the name?"

Akane frowns slightly: "Naranker actually called him Terk 's Haksred, which would make him 'Terk of the Great Herring'... Or possibly 'Terk of the Red Herring'. Initially I thought it was a mangling of Great Mountain or Great River... But Great House Red Herring was a famous dynasty of gnome illusionists. The problem is, Haksred is an orcish word. Why would an orc - well, half-orc - name himself after a gnome family?"

Aran shrugs at the whole back and forth about that quarry. "This is way outside of my err... area of expertise. I'm not a tracker and I don't know about Orcs or anything like that. So... while you guys are trying to figure all that stuff out, what do you want me to do? I guess I could ask the locals if they know anything about this."

Zhorr ponders it for a moment: "Well, we need to research several different things... His history, his motives, the town of Cold Water itself... But his name might be a clue in itself. Using sources in the original language would be much easier, but that would mean looking for them library in a major city, and I am a little wary of sending you to a major devil city. The badge Naranker gave Akane, and the presence of Artrus, should help, but..."

"Unless there is a gnomes village nearby to consult?" Leonia asks.

Zhorr blinks, then facepalms. "How did I not think about it? Naranjer even mentioned them. Brastlewerk! It isn't a metropolis by any stretch of the imagination, and it's still a devil city, but it's also a county capital, which means it should have at least one large library, and it is home to a large Gnome community, which should help with the Red Herring dynasty research. Plus, the Count is the one who is sending us on this particular merry chase, so presumably the guards wouldn't harass you. And now that I put all of this together. this seems one rather large set of coincidences."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:53, Tue 14 Aug 2018.

"Can't say I recall having much dealings with Gnomes in the past" says the blue warrior, scratching the back of his neck as if trying to [still] work out the strangeness of remembering things no one else does in *this* lifetime.

Shuddering slightly at the thought of needing to consult gnomes on their family histories, Artrus says to Dakash, "Be happy you haven't.  Gnomes can be a prickly lot sometimes, and if we're going to be investigating gnomish family lines... we're liable to be in for several very LONG stories..."

Looking at the others he says, "Look, I'm not much of a linguist, but surely the name isn't actually correct here... we'd be better off looking to see if there are any common threads between any of the attacks he's made.  Is he an opportunist or does he plan detailed raids with specific targets.  If the latter, how does he choose those targets.  That sort of thing.  As the Lord Marshal said, who gives a pile a dung about what his name is when our job is to eliminate the threat?"

Raising her hand just above her head, Kamea pipes up. "I'd be willing to talk to gnomes for you." She shimmies in the pew to be taller, trying to be seen over the plants scattered around the atrium. Of the others seated, those who aren't soldiers look close enough to be mages. Kamea might be the only civilian present.

"I can't twist a knife, but I could sure steer a few conversations if it means getting Akane and the rest of you a leg up. That is, if you want me."

"Have you considered that it might be a gnome illusionist who has put on a seeming? He looks like a half-orc, possibly through use of alteration as well, but is in fact a gnome? That would explain the name and the reports of his appearance. By all means, I would speak with the gnomes as well. Such an opportunity to peruse other cultures' point-of-view on magic..." Leonia says.

"As I age through this incarnation, language will become less of a barrier to me and my interactions with others. I have already regained the knowledge of several dialects that I hope will become useful in one way or another." Dakash seemed content that, for the moment at least, he was being helpful.

---

Zhorr spent the rest of the day examining the spellcasters whose abilities had been impaired, as well as their ioun stones.

From what he could tell, the new memories were real, not a fabrication. What exactly that meant was anybody's guess, but clearly it involved alternate realities. Always a comfort, that.

The inability to use cantrips and orisons to their full extent appeared to be a drain on their ambient mana pool. The way he discussed it with them - mainly Leonia, given that she was the one most interested in arcane theory - cantrips could be reused because the magic surge following any type of spellcasting caused a local spike in ambient mana - which was barely enough to replenish the energy spent to cast a cantrip. Not all spellcasters had the ability to absorb those spikes, but wizards and sorcerers definitely did; in the case of Aran and Leonia, something was apparently draining that energy from them before they could use it to regenerate their cantrips. Dakash was similarly affected - which was an interesting bit of information that would probably advance magical theory at some point, given that he wasn't an arcane caster, but remained a darn nuisance in the short term.

The ioun stones had been similarly affected, and would have to be repaired. Worse, all ioun stones placed in the care of the three casters, while not permanently affected, still couldn't refresh their powers until the net day or so.

Fortunately, additional experimentation revealed that a wayfinder, a kind of magical compass with the ability to house ioun stones, protected them from the drain.

Zhorr promised the three spellcasters to have a wayfinder made for each of them, though it would take a few days.

He encouraged everybody to talk to the people in Carp, and off-handedly commented that this was a particularly good moment to invest in real estate in Carp, if one felt so inclined.

---

A couple of days later, Zhorr invited Leonia to his library, and gave her some more information about Magi.

Magi were rather unique arcane spellcasters, in that, onve they reached a certain amount of knowledge, they acquired an ability extremely reminiscent of the unique clerical boon that allowed divine spellcasters to prepare any spell their deity allowed them, without books or foreknowledge.

Specifically, a Magus of sufficient experience could, given a certain amount of effort, prepare a spell that was not alreaty in their book. Having so prepared a spell they had only vaguely heard about, if that, they could then write it into their spellbook, thus acquiring a new spell - for the price of some magical ink and a bit of patience.

He may or may not have sported a cat-got-the-cream expression while explaining that. Leonia, for her part, now understood why he was so liberal in sharing his magical knowledge.

Then he showed his spellbook, specifically the last few pages, which were taken by an entirely new spell. And by "entirely new", he explained, he meant that the spell literally hadn't existed until a few days earlier. Around the time they had lost their ability to use cantrips.

The spell looked like a much weaker version of the famous wish spell; considering that the wish line was probably the most well-researched piece of magic in the world, and the spells that were part of it had remained unchanged for centuries, the idea that a new spell of that line could simply appear from one day seemed rather improbable.

And yet there they were.

Alternate realities and all.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:38, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

Leonia asks "since this new spell in the Wish line has pulled mana from the world in order to manifest, could it be the cause of cantrips no longer being recharged? You know, if we can figure out How a Wayfinder blocks the drain, perhaps similar elements can be added to clothing."

Zhorr shakes his head: "The wayfinder is separating you from the stone: the stone works its magic and recharges, while whatever is affecting your cantrips tries to drain the wayfinder. If we did the same to your clothes, it would just separate you from the environment. I don't know if it would stop the drain, but it would certainly stop the ambient mana, which would defeat the entire purpose. As for this new wish spell draining your ambient mana pool... It doesn't make a lot of sense, but I still don't think it's a coincidence. I suspect they are both effects of the same cause... But bless me if I know what that cause is."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:31, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

Leonia shrugs. "I suppose a query to the Deity that guards Magic might yield an answer, but those are few and far between. Perhaps we can figure it out on our own through experimentation and monitoring."

Several days go by while everybody busy themselves with a number of tasks, waiting for messengers birds to bring back some information.

At Zhorr's suggestion, Leonia invests most of her money and a lot of hard labor in helping Evelyss with her magical herbs. Some clever and productive bartering later, and Zhorr has acquired the base components to make some interesting magic items for Leonia.

Lia offers her services to make potions, and they suggest everybody to talk to Elda in case they need a good armor. Only armor, alas, as crafting magic weapons is beyond her skill. However, crafting normal weapons is not, and she has a decent stock of all the common ones.

A couple of weeks go by, and finally Zhorr has some information to share with the group.

Apparently, this Red fellow has a particular dislike of official envoys, and tends to attack tax collectors and caravans, and even the occasional convoy carrying military salaries.

Considering the kind of escort these convoys generally have, this outlaw's band might be more dangarous than initially anticipated.

The keener one’s eyesight, the more impressive Brastlework is. From the raggedy edges onward, three concentric terraces rise from the center. The lowest outer ring has the feeling of a sprawling garden. Gently curving and very humble fences of woven branches and sticks denote the furthest border. They only reach about collar to chin height. Pinholes of wilted crops can be seen every few inches. A shack saddles this fence every once in a while, but no eyes watch out. The scattered farmhouses don’t look much different than those at Carp’s Wall: thatch, timber and mortar. Dirt roads connect them.

The hills incline toward the center, but drop precipitously into a moat. An imposing wall of stone and mortar presents a ring further inward. Clear guard posts and garrisons enshrine the few gates. Some tiled roofs and smoking chimneys jut beyond the wall, but their majority is nestled into the protective barrier. In the distance beyond them lay parapets of quarried stone.

Approaching the city, Akane takes a moment to relay what knowledge she has of it: "Brastlewerk is an interesting city. It's essentially split in two: the northern part is where the 'good folk' live: nobles, rich artisans, most of the humans, in nice stone houses. The southern part is where everybody else lives, and the further south you go, the more 'else' everybody becomes. Near the southern walls, the houses are made of straw, mud, and manure. The southern part of the market is where people buy and sell things that do not officially exist. Surprisingly, the gnome district is in the northern part of the city, so we don't strictly have to go to the southern districts."

Strictly speaking, the timber-framed house with wattle and daub walls in the center of the city also have walls made of mud and manure, albeit mixed with other things and placed on top of a wooden lattice, but their nice whitewashed walls have little in common with the drab, cheap shacks that house the least valued inhabitants of the county's capital.

A city of 12000 people, one quarter of them slaves, Brastlewerk is overall unexpectedly wealthy for a city its size, due to the creative influence of the gnomes living in it, and the ridiculously hard-to-breach defenses that have made it safe from attacks for many a decade.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:43, Wed 05 Sept 2018.

The gatehouse just outside the city is guarded by a group of bored-looking guards, overseeing the constant traffic of carts and people on the large ramp that leads to the drawbridge.

As Akane introduces herself, showing her badge, the guards stiffen. A few minutes and some reassurances later, the party is let into the city without further ado.

Leonia asks "shall we find an Inn in the northern section to store our excess gear? And talking to merchants and travellers might give us some basic information about the place, like important people or influential ones, at least."

Akane ponders it for a moment: "We don't know a lot about the city, perhaps we could go to the market, see if we can find something interesting; I'm sure some merchant or another has a cousin who runs an inn, or a tavern, or some other place that would be happy to take our money."

"There will never be a shortage of that, I am sure" comes the response from the spiritual compass of the group. Dakash has been trying to ascertain what sort of travelers frequent this place - are they from far-off lands like himself? Is there a cross-section of representatives from all the major and minor sentient races of the land? Or is it a drab stereotype with high percentages of humans and a smattering of other folks thrown in for good measure.

He's actually most curious to speak with some gnomes. Of all the races he's been in contact with over the centuries, he seems to recall that their inventions are often able to span several lifetimes. Hopefully, the blue priest can find something he may have interacted with in a previous incarnation, and jog some more memories loose about this whole area.

Nodding along, Kamea keeps pace with the others by sheer step count. "Merchants are great," she adds on the heels of Dakash. As much as she knows that the adults are escorting her, Kamea is excited for all the new stories around. "Merchants try and butter you up to sell you a necklace or this fruit. They do so much to please and grab you for a sale. If you're asking questions in negotiation, you can learn the best secrets for the cost of a few plums."

"This one time," the girl continues unbidden, "I was selling an old ring and was able to arrange a the best, cheapest carriage for a slight discount. As long as they're the ones getting good deal, they'll rat on anyone."

A variety of coloured awnings demarcate the edge of the market neighbourhoods. Eager to experience shade, customers bustle between outdoor stalls of thin wood, or secret away in one of many housed shops. The intermix of non-humans is surprisingly high here, with unexpected variety on either side of the counters. Especially noticeable are the colorful gnomish merchants, often standing on overturned baskets or wicker stools. Even heat cannot dissuade the fervent economy.

Akane notices a meat merchant with a slight green tinge to her skin and slightly overlarge teeth, signs of an orc heritage, and approaches her. After exchanging greetings, Akane asks about her stock of preserved meat.

The woman makes a vague gesture: "Mostly I sell fresh meat, not much demand for salted meat northwise, this time of the year most of all. But I got some fancy honey ham. Thought the nobles would like it, but it's too good for them or sum'. Give you a good deal."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:34, Sat 15 Sept 2018.

Akane considers for a moment, eyeing the size of the proffered ham: "I'm not sure it will make for good travel rations, but I do have a friend who might like it... Yeah, why not. I'll come back to pick it up before I leave the city."

She drops a few coins on the counter, which the merchant eyes appreciatively, and then continues: "Speaking of which, I'll probably be around for a few days at least. Any good inns I could stay at? And perhaps a good tavern to wet my throat?"

The half-orc shrugs: "Depends on the side... Don't go north much, m'self, but I know a couple good ones southwise, and even one in the cloud district."

Akane raises an eyebrow: "The 'cloud district'?"

The merchant snorts: "Where the cloudheads live. You know, them noms."

Dakash scrunches his nose in confusion. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is that a newly-discovered race of beings I'm not familiar with?" He doubts it, but also knows there is much in this wide world he has yet to experience fully.

"Them noms! Little nibblets, about so tall? Look like rainbow puked em out? YO, GOLDIE!" She yells at somebody several stalls away.

A little creature with a mane of golden hair - not just blond, but literally looking like they are made of gold - yells back: "WHAT!"

"BLUE GUY HERE DUN KNOWS YOU NIBBLE NOMS!" She yells cheerfully back, uncaring of the looks she's getting.

"GNOMES! WE BE'S GNOMES, YOU BIG THICK SKULL." The gnome girl yells back, apparently equally unconrcerned.

"See? Little nibble noms, like goldie there. Up in the clouds, the lot of 'em. Good fellas, though, been nice to orcs, especially since Great Mountain."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:18, Mon 17 Sept 2018.

Akane cringes slightly at the wanton abuse of the Common language, but presses on: "Great Mountain?"

The merchant nods eagerly: "Oh yeh. Big fella, Great Mountain, and smart, too. They say he has human blood. Well, whisper, more like, and only when he's not around."

Akane frowns: "Huh... I thought gnomes were a rather relaxed bunch, though I guess if he has human blood..." She stops as teh merchant barks loudly, which a moment later she realizes is laughter.

"Hah! A nom! Good one! Great Mountain isn't a nom! He's an Orc-kin. Married one of the nom head wizardneers, couple decades gone, them's been nice to us orc-folkin ever since."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:04, Wed 19 Sept 2018.

"What is the easiest method of transporting ourselves to this cloud district?" he asked, somewhat skeptically. "And by easiest I of course mean safest and least expensive, if they are the same thing.

Not a diplomatic sort herself, Leonia whispers to Akane "please get the name of this female Gnome wizardess?"

Akane politely adds: "And also, if you could tell us the name of Great Mountain's wife?"

The merchant looks at the party and bursts into laughter: "Names, they ask me! You folks ain't too observant, are you? You don't want my hints, I'm drunk as a barrel."

Akane looks at the sun, still rising in the sky, and at the merchant.

The woman bares her fangs in what is probably a smile, and adds in a low voice: "Spent ten years in the Duke's mines, before the Count found me. You think I could be nice to all of these snotty humanfolk if I weren't drunk off my head the entire day? Almost tore out the Count's throat when he bought me, would have too if he weren't-"

She shakes her head and growls: "Grog must be wearing off, I'm talking too much. Go talk to Goldie there if you want information. I need a drink, and you need to get going."

With that, she pulls out a wineskin, and unstoppers it, pointedly looking at Akane, then at "Goldie", and then taking a swig.

Unwilling to start a fight, Akane follow the hint and leads the party to "Goldie"s stand, which appears to sell mechanical devices of some sort.

The woman's eyes, light brown with specks of gold, turn to look at her new potential customers. "WELCOME! To my humble shop. LOOK! ADMIRE the gnomish craft, OBSERVE these AMAZING mechanical tools. You've NEVER seen the equal!"

Akane is taken slightly aback by the girl's enthusiasm (and sheer volume): "Ah... Yes, good day to you. These certainly look... Very interesting. Did you make them?"

The merchant nods vigorously: "But OF COURSE! I'm a TINKER! That's what I do." With a a grandiose swiping gesture at her mershandise, she exclaims: "I TINK!"

Unable to stop herself, Akane quips: "...therefore you ham?"

The merchant smiles, and proceeds to show her wares to the party, toning down the act a little. A number of the mechanisms are toys, or simple mechanical improvements on normal tools. A couple look like they seamlessly mate magic and engineering in nature, however, and the merchant confirms that she did indeed add some magic to the mechanisms.

While discussing the various items on sale, Akane gathers some information.

- The "cloud district" is not actually called thusly (the term is not exactly derogatory, but it's not entirely polite either), its official name is "Gnome District", and it's actually very easy to reach, as its entrance is at the other end of the main road.

- Unlike in most cities in Cheliash, the city guard isn't a pack of wolves hunting for slaves under the guise of punishing blasphemy. Non-humans are generally safe in the city, as long as they don't start trouble.

- Great Mountain is kind of a local hero to many non-humans, he and his wife, Rainbow of the Red Harring, managed to convince the Count to put most of the slaves under a Beholden (essentially indentured servitude) contract instead. The main difference, beside some minor rights, is that a Beholden's children are born as free men, rather than slaves.

At this point Akane inquires about this "Red Harring" gnome lady, since to the best of her knowledge House Red Harring had gone extinct, but Goldie - whose actual name is Goldshine: apparently her parent were only creative in matters of technology - only shrugs.

Still, Great Mountain and Red Harring? By the end of the conversation, Akane is ready to eat her hat if those people don't have at least some information about Terk 's Haksred.

OOC: Goldie has Masterwork tools or any normal craft available for purchase, and a weird 1000 gp technomantic multitool hat grants a +2 Circumstance bonus to most interactions with mechanical items, and a +1 Competence bonus to any Disable Device task. They include a variant Mending enchantment that prevents any normal wear and tear, and extends some of its effects to what the user works on, allowing repairs on machines to proceed five to ten times faster (one week's worth of repairs in a single day, one day in 2d3 hours, one hour in 10 minutes, 10 minutes in 1 minute, and 1 minute in 1 round). If materials are normally required, they must still be provided.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:29, Sun 23 Sept 2018.

Dakash inwardly groans at the pun, but holds his tongue; he's met many different people and societies, and they all have their quirks. some are just more painful than others.

Though he does not need any of the tools or mechanical wares the shop has to offer, he is still fascinated by the craftsmanship and detail of each item, and studies them all with rapt attention, occasionally asking a side question about use, function, or design.

Leonia shakes her head and smiles. "I'd say nobody 'hams' quite like you, Akane. Actually, I've heard it said that bards don't pun....they Cant. Miss Goldie, do you perhaps have any books on this Technomancy of yours? I believe that mathematics is universal, therefore there must be some connection at an underlying level between Technomancy and older established forms of arcane expression."

Akane shakes her head: "No, no, Thieves Cant, my friend, that's what you're thinking about. Bards are masters or lore, we can own any tale, any time." The white tip of a fluffy orange tail pokes up from Akane's trousers, and disappears again a moment later.

Goldie, on her hand, seems entirely focused on Leonia's question, and looks intently ather, biting her lip for a long moment.

Finally, she  pulls out a book that looks suspiciously like a wizard's spellbook: "Show you mine if you show me yours." She offers.

OOC: The Tinker is an NPC class based on the standard Adept, except it works more like an alchemist, and has a focus on technomagical items, with a spell list to match.

Alas, the blueprint book Goldie is holding will turn out to be more more like a formula book than a proper spellbook, which means Leonia cannot really learn spells from it.

She can, however, get some ideas, which she may turn into a prestige class path later on, if Leonia decides to go for a more craft-oriented build.

Note that Pathfinder discourages prestige classes, in that sticking to a single class tends to be more advantageous (check out the various Arcane Discoveries that high level single-class wizards gain access to).

Assuming Leonia accepts, Goldie will look at her spellbook for a minute or so, then offer her 200 gold flat to copy a few spells. That is actually a rather generous offer, since Leonia would probably make little more than that by outright selling her spellbook.

Goldie may be trying to establish a longer-term relationship with Leonia, to get more spells later on.

This message was last edited by the GM at 09:10, Tue 25 Sept 2018.

Leonia considers briefly, then pulls out her own spellbook. As they exchange books for perusal, the Elf wizardess is disappointed that nothing will translate over, but gladdened by a new branch of study for her to delve into. When Goldie makes her offer, Leonia accepts, if only to secure future dealings with the Brastlewerk gnomes. Perhaps even expand her own Knowledge of engineering. In fact, seeing these 'blueprints' has given her a nifty idea concerning golem construction....

The gnome district turns out to be completely walled off, though it is unclear whose safety the walls are intended to protect. As it is, however, there are two guards at the gate, a gnome and a human. Both looked rather bored, though the gnome appears to be amusing himself with a puzzle box of some kind, made from dark wood and a shiny metal that is probably not gold, unless guard duty pays a lot better in Brastlewerk than in most cities.

The gnome completely ignores the party, apparently focused on the puzzle box, while the man asks them for their laissez-passer, and seems thoroughly unimpressed when they explain that Leonia is a wizard and an alchemist, and has come to Brastlewerk in the hope of a mutually beneficial cultural exchange with the gnomes.

After several minutes of discussions going in ever-widening circles, finally the gnome mumbles something, and the man asks him to repeat.

Without looking up, and apparently rather miffed that the puzzle box doesn't want to reveal its secrets, the gnome replies in a low voice: "I said, they work for Naranjer. Trying to keep a low profile, looks like."

He looks up and continues: "A bit late for it, if you ask me, what with you showing that badge of yours at the gate. Rumor's been running around since you came in."

Akane promptly gives herself a mental kick for thinking that city guards would keep their mouths shut just because she was on official royal business. "We were counting on the guards' discretion. That may have been a slight... Miscalculation."

The gnome snorts: "Right. Look. since you are trying to play nice, I'm gonna let you in." He waves away the other guard's protests: "Under my responsibility. I'll deal with sunshine personally if it turns out it was a mistake."

The man mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "your funeral", but doesn't protest further.

The gnome district is subtly - and not so subtly - different from the rest of the city. Most buildings are rendered and whitewashed for weatherproofing, making it hard to tell what's underneath, but they give off a definite impression of wealth. No decaying straw huts or half-baked dung shacks in the gnome district, and though some homes do appear to be made of adobe, they are large, well-maintained abodes, a far cry from the mud wrecks in the south of the city.

Even more impressive, the roads are fully paved, and have gutters on both sides. There are no signs of horse manure, or other waste, anywhere, and indeed no signs of horse-drawn carriages.

The entire thing looks clean, obviously wealthy... And somewhat alien. The proportions seem all wrong, too: gnomes have no need for tall ceilings, and most houses have barely taller than two meters, or just shy of seven feet, per storey, and the door frames invariably require any human other than the shortest ones to duck.

Houses here have smaller doors, more stories packed into the same height. Questionable designs among the houses dot the lanes. Both convex and concave upper floors, windows that curve into the roof, and doorways of inventive make can be seen on adjacent homes.

"So... Who's this Sunshine person who might take umbrage if we don't behave?" Akane asks, trying to make conversation with the gnome guard, who has decided to accompany them.

The gnome snorts: "I just call him sunshine because you don't get to see Rainbow if he's not around. He would agree, I'm sure, but maybe don't call him that to his face."

"Great Mountain." Akane nods in understanding.

The gnome nods along: "Yup. Guy's tall as a house and half as large, try not to make him mad. He may be the most polite orc you ever meet, but he will still eat you for breakfast if you insult him. Like, literally."

"Protective or possessive?" Akane inquires.

Their guide shrugs: "Both? Neither? If we ever invent an engine that runs on hate and prejudice, we can turn the entire city into a flying island on the reactions to Sunshine and Rainbow's marriage alone."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:39, Thu 04 Oct 2018.

Akane ponders for a moment: "Why do I have a feeling you're not only talking about the humans?"

The gnome shrugs again: "The humans mostly don't care... Other than your boss, that is. Naranjer has a giant axe to grind with Sunshine and Rainbow. He considers a mixed marriage between non-humans a perversion."

Akane shivers slightly at hearing Naranker being called "her boss": "Hey, he may have deputized me, but Naranjer is not my boss. My master is Zhorr von Carp. Naranjer tried to rope him into... Well, that's kind of a long story."

The gnome stops abruptly and looks up at her: "The new baron? You may want to lead with that when you meet Great Mountain, he's far less likely to bash your face in if you do."

"Bash my... I thought you said he's a nice guy!"

"For an orc he's downright amiable. Less so with those who threaten Rainbow, however."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 11:55, Mon 01 Oct 2018.

Leonia asks "what can you tell us about Rainbow? What style of magic does she practice? And has she found joy in her marriage?"

The guard looks at Leonia for a long moment, then sighs: "I suppose an elf would understand better than most."

He starts walking again, looking for the right words: "When Rainbow and Great Mountain met, she was thirty, and he was twenty. By gnome standards, she was a child. He was a notorious raider chieftain, respected despite rumors of his human ancestry. That was twenty years ago. By orc standards, he's now a venerable elder. And she's still little more than a child."

He shakes her head. "I've rarely seen Rainbow without a smile on her face, when Harksradu is in the room. Certainly not when he's looking at her. They are quite possibly the happiest couple I've ever met. Perhaps the flame that burns half as long burns twice as bright."

He shakes his head and continues: "As for her magic... Rainbow isn't really a spellcaster. I mean, she can cast a couple of spells if pushed, and I've seen her use her fair share of wands... But she's a brawler at heart. That's how they met, actually: she challenged him to a fight. How crazy is that?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:00, Thu 25 Oct 2018.

Rainbow's manor is a large, stone building, prominently featuring expensive marble decorations. Akane takes a single look and asks their guide: "That's enough money to anchor six or seven different spells. Are you telling me it's just for show?"

The gnome shakes his head: "Family house. Rainbow wasn't raised by House Red Herring, and most of their secrets have been lost. Rainbow has been looking for trustworthy wizards to figure them out, but she tends to get stuck at the 'trustworthy' part."

Akane looks briefly at Leonia, and replies: "I happen to know one of those... Comes with the recommendation of the newly minted Baron von Carp."

The gnome laughs: "Sell that to Rainbow, and see if she buys it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:26, Tue 09 Oct 2018.

The gnome guard acting as their guide has a brief conversation with an elderly gnome that one may assume, from general demeanor, to be Rainbow's butler, then waves the party goodbye.

The stern-looking butler accompanies the guests to a small waiting room, just big enough to fit the party in relative comfort, and politely offers refreshments (water, fermented milk, apple wine).

A few minutes later, he comes back with a platter of simple hard-bread tarts; some with cheese, some with paté, and a small number with what looks like red berries jam, which turns out to be tasty without being overly sweet.

He announces that the lady Rainbow will be receiving the party shortly, and, after inquiring if there is anything the party needs, leaves.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:17, Tue 09 Oct 2018.

Leonia uses her Sleeves of Many Garments to take the appearance of a costly but elegant robe and courtly dress. Respect must be maintained.

A short while later, the butler comes back, and informs the party that the lady is ready to receive them.

Apparently, Rainbow has spent this time making herself look impressive... And succeeding rather spectacularly.

The first thing the party notices is that she was presumably colled "Rainbow" much for the same reason "Goldie" was called "Goldshine": her hair is a kaleidoscope of color, changing depending on the angle of the light, with the net effect being that she looks very much like a rainbow.

The effect is quite striking, and it takes the party a moment to really take in the full sight of this tiny woman.

Rainbow is amazingly short, even for a gnome, and her proportions make her look more like a scaled-down human than anything else.

It's hard to tell much else about her body shape, due to the impressive armor she is wearing: a silvery full plate that screams "I am worth more than your house".

On top of that, she is wearing a full complement of understated magic items, from the simple headband on her forehead to the practical belt on her waist, to the plain cloak on her shoulders, and carries at her side a tiny, unassuming stripe of pointed metal with a very functional hilt. All of which fool absolutely nobody and are clearly obscenely expensive.

It is unclear whether she is dressed to impress or to crush armies, but it is quite evident that she is about ready to do either as the situation requires.

Her demeanour is quite friendly, however, and her voice, rather than being an ultrasonic squeak, is a very pleasant mezzo-soprano that sounds like she could give Akane a run for her money in musical performance.

"Welcome, welcome! You have made an impression of a number of people since your arrival. I have heard a number of interesting rumors about you, and my sources can't seem to make up their minds on who exactly you are, and what exactly you want. I am Rainbow, of House Red Herring. In case this hasn't made it abundantly clear already." She gestures vaguely at her hair.

---

OOC: I believe I should point out now how obscenely rich Zhorr and Lia (and Rainbow and Great Mountain) are, compared to what one would expect in a normal medieval setting.

Zhorr's manor is larger than just about any medieval king's castle. Rainbow's family palace is not quite as big, but, aside from her family's wealth, she is wearing a king's ransom in equipment. Several kings' ransoms, in fact.

This is a side effect of dnd's exponential wealth by level: a level 1 character has maybe 300 gp to their name, including the clothes on their back and the spellbook in their bag, while a level 20 character has an expected wealth about thirty *thousand* times that amount.

Zhorr and Lia are both very high level (as they are expected to fund out-of-pocket an entire party of adventurers who are supposed to grow to double-digit levels), and Rainbow and Great Mountain aren't too far behind for their own reasons.

The odd man out is the Count, who is a normal NPC noble, and therefore has far less wealth to his name.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:59, Wed 10 Oct 2018.

Akane clear her throat: "I might be able to shed some light on that... We have actually come here for multiple different reasons, so it makes sense that people might be confused about that."

She points at Leonia first: "My wizard friend Leonia is coming for the benefit of her Art, first and foremost. Which I guess is not very surprising. She heard that gnomes have made some interesting discoveries in alchemy and engineering, and wants to see if she can integrate them with High Magic."

Next she points at her Kamea> "My little sister Kamea is here because she loves her big sister, of course, as little sisters should, thus she wants to help me however she can. That, or she wants to make a pile of money and have fun. Or both."

With a gesture at Aran, she continues: "Aran, our resident sorcerer, is here because he likes to meet new and interesting people, especially those who come in unusual packages, if you get what I mean. These people tend to have all sorts of interesting ideas." Unspoken, there is a second "if you know what I mean" at the end of that sentence.

She follows up with Dakash: "And speaking of interesting people in unusual packages, this is Dakash, a holy man and a great warrior, whose helpful nature tends to lead him in all sorts of unexpected new situations... Like helping a bard who has been recruited by Grand Marshall Aneri zo Naranjer complete an improbable task. That would be me."

With a sigh, she adds: "Poor Artrus here got roped into 'keeping an eye on me', since Naranjer doesn't trust a beast to do the job of a man. I should probably be offended, but if I let casual racism and bigotry get to me my head would probably explode from the pressure."

Rainbow nods: "I see... And would the 'improbable task' involve chasing down my son and bringing him to justice?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:33, Wed 17 Oct 2018.

Heavy footsteps resound through the walls, and a few moments later a door opens, revealing somebody dressed in what looks like a much larger version of Rainbow's own armor.

His face is hidden by a hideous fetish mask, but it seems safe to assume that it is Rainbow's husband, Great Mountain.

A rather appropriate name, given that he's the largest orc the party has ever seen, and that's including Dakash's previous lives. His head is almost touching the room's vaulted ceiling, and his arms are large enough that Rainbow could probably hide behind one of them.

"Scaring the guests, my love?" He asks in a deep but surprisingly gentle voice.

Rainbow looks at him, blinks once, twice, then shakes her head in mild exasperation.

"I am Harksradu, The Great Mountain." There is the distinct feeling of a smile in his voice, or possibly a smirk, though it's impossible to tell behind the mask.

Akane introduces herself and her companions once again, and Great Mountain nods.

"Now then, what is this I hear about chasing down my son?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:38, Tue 16 Oct 2018.

Leonia cannot help but blurt out "y-your son?? Who might that be?"

Great Mountain snorts: "Depending on whom you ask, Terk, son of Great Mountain..."

"...or Terk of the Red Herrings." Finishes Rainbow. "Which, conveniently, or perhaps inconveniently, sounds almost the same in Orcish."

"If they didn't sound almost the same, we would have never met." Great Mountain points out. "That would be most inconvenient."

Akane's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water: "Terk 's Haksred is your son?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:34, Wed 17 Oct 2018.

Great Mountian lets go a gusty sigh: "So, Naranjer sent you after Terk without telling anything about him except 'he's an outlaw, go and bring him to justice'. Is that about correct?"

"He... Also mentioned that he's an iyrn wielder." Akane replies.

Rainbow rolls her eyes: "I see. Well, with this staggering amount of information, you cannot possibly fail in your mission. Especially considering it's entirely correct and not at all faulty."

Great Mountain shakes his head: "Look, I'll be honest: as it is, you are walking into a death trap. Van Lyre would probably have survived, but you are not him."

Akane frowns: "Not if this was meant to kill Zhorr. Oh, and it's von Carp, now."

Great Mountain shrugs: "I don't know that it was supposed to kill him, Terk isn't that good... But the first piece of information you are missing is that he is not alone. He has at least a wizard and an alchemist working with him, and there may be others. If you want to capture him, you are going to need to be clever. Ideally, ambush them one or two at a time. And I would like to see your tactics and maybe give you some suggestions first, if you are willing to spar with me and Rainbow."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:33, Sat 20 Oct 2018.

"So..."

Aran spoke for the first time, after a long period of contemplating the situation the group has found themselves in.

"You don't mind if we're going after your son?"

Leonia asks "can you at least tell us what he has done to have himself declared as an outlaw? Akane here was sketchy with the details."

Akane mutters under her breath: "Blame Naranjer."

Rainbow and Great Mountain share a look: "Don't misunderstand, I love my son as much as any Orc would love their flesh and blood, but Terk... Has chosen his way. He has been ambushing royal envoys, from messengers to tax collectors to caravans. We are trying to work with the Count to improve the conditions of those the Lord's Truth would have enslaved. Meanwhile, our son stages attacks to overthrow the government. As you can imagine, that isn't helping us."

Rainbow moves to Great Mountain's side and hugs... His leg, since his waist is above her head. "I wish he would come to his senses and hide somewhere far away, forget about his foolish quest... But he believes himself a hero fighting for a greater cause."

Great Mountain shakes his head: "My son has chosen a sad destiny for himself. And the worst part is that he played straight in the Lord's hands. I don't see any way to save him from Hell, and his story will be that of Terk 's Haksred the outlaw, dreaded villain, defeated by Aneri zo Naranjer, heroic follower of Lord Asmodean."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:35, Sat 20 Oct 2018.

Leonia looks concerned."What can you tell us of his capabilities, and those of his companions? The more we know, the more options present themselves. And does he have a girlfriend? One who might know what has influenced him to this dangerous course?"

"Terk is only 24, which, if he were a gnome, wouldn't even make him an adolescent."

"Even though an orc of that age would be well on his way to middle age."

"Gnomes develop physically before they grow up emotionally, and Terk seems to have taken the worst of both worlds: a body that grows up and ages like an orc, with the emotional maturity of a gnome child."

"Striking back at those who would enslave you is a simple response, one that doesn't need any larger understanding of the context you live in. He doesn't need any other reason to do what he does."

"And I'm not sure Terk has any interest in females. He might not have any until he's 40."

"However, I think all the known member of his gang are females. If you are looking for a girlfriend, that is a good place to start."

"There is.... One more thing."

Great Mountain looks at his wife, and sighs: "Right. You may have heard that my son is an yirn wielder... That is only partially correct."

"Normally, he uses a simple yirn, a front-loaded, single shot hand gun. If he doesn't consider you a threat, that's probably what he will go for."

"If he does consider you a threat, however... He has another option."

"To make it simple... It's a non-magic weapon that can project invisible fire beams."

"It works very much like a common hand gun, except it's easier to hit with and can fire much faster."

"It was a family heirloom. Not something we made, but something one of my ancestors found. Its power source was depleted, but it seems Terk has found a way to recharge it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:44, Mon 22 Oct 2018.

Aran's eyes briefly light up at the idea of invisible fighter beams, but otherwise he keeps a hand to his chin as he contemplates the conversation.

"You said you are trying to improve the conditions of those that the Lords truth would have ensalved...   how are you doing that? With diplomacy, I take it?"

Great Mountain's eyes shine with a terrible light: "Politics! The least appreciated of all blood sports."

Rainbow snorts: "And with good reason. The Count is sympathetic to the cause of non-humans, and he has considerable personal power. You may have noticed that the city is heavily fortified."

"So, as long as he keeps sending the Duke his dues, and paying lip service to Church and State alike, he is pretty much free to do whatever he wants."

"Such as turning all his slaves into contracted servants, or raising a known non-human sympathizer like Zhorr van Lyre to the rank of Baron of Carp on the Wall."

"Unfortunately, Terk's... Escapades... Put the entire thing at risk: if the tax convoys don't arrive to the Capital, the Count could be accused of neglecting his duties, or worse."

"And if they can frame him for treason, then it won't be the Duke that comes calling, it will be the King."

"As well-fortified as the city is, it cannot hold against the entire royal army."

"Which makes it especially important that the appearance of normality be maintained... Good thing Naranjer has no idea what's actually going on, or I doubt he would have sent von Carp to catch Terk."

Leonia's attention bounces between the two as she tries to keep up with the conversation. At the last line, however, she throws up her hands and says "wait, just wait! What do you mean, if he knew what was going on? It's obvious that Naranjer knows that Terk is causing unrest, is an iryn user, and has a group to help him. So what is it that Naranjer doesn't know? And why wouldn't he have assigned Zhorr had Naranjer known?"

"As long as Terk is out there assaulting royal caravans, the Count appears weak at best, traitorous at worst. At some point, the king will take notice. And by 'take notice' I mean 'send an army'."

"Had von Carp gone himself, and captured Terk, this would have solved the Count's problem. Even if he had died, this would still have won the Count some leeway, perhaps made the threat look significant enough for the king to send his own men - all through no fault of the Count."

"Count Brastlewerk is the one nobleman in Cheliash with both a vested interest in improving the living conditions of non-humans, and the power to do something about it."

"Had Naranjer realized that he has a chance to remove the Count from power, he would not have sent a former adventurer after our son. He's a very... Traditionalist man."

Aran frowns.

"I can't say that I'm too mad about what your son is doing. But if it's going to make it harder for non-humans if we don't stop him I think we should do that."

"It should go without saying but... If at all possible, we really would prefer if he could be captured alive."

"Chelian law usually has a way out for those with enough money, so if you can capture him and deliver him to us, we should be able to smooth things out."

"And of course we will give you something that will help."

"Some equipment, of course... But also some training."

"I suspect you may be a little out of your depth. We might be able to help."

"What do you say we have lunch... And then some friendly sparring?"

The dining room is quite large, housing two big tables that can comfortably accommodate ten people each. The floor is smooth marble, and the stone walls are covered in tapestries, depicting scenes involving rare and strange creatures and beasts.

The tables and chairs are made of wood, nicely carved, and probably very old.

The meal consists largely of meat, on three different serving platters (rare, medium, well done), with a couple of different sauces to go with it; there is a good amount of fresh fruit, and, rather uncommonly, white bread. Not a lot of vegetarian alternatives, however.

Drinks include wine, mead, and a light tea.

The hosts seem to be showing off a little.

"Enjoy your meal. I hope you like it."

Great Mountain's table manners prove to be far more civilized than one might expect from his rather savage appearance. Also, once he removes his totem mask he turns out to have surprisingle gentle features... For an orc, anyway.

He quickly gets hold of the rarest portion of the rare meat platter, and proceed to demolish it methodically. A couple of minutes after everybody's seated, the same servant that had originally welcomed the party brings in some more food - baked potatoes and cheese.

"Sometimes I forget not everybody makes fresh meat their entire diet. Good thing I have people to remind me."

"You don't make meat your entire diet either, dear, not if I have anything to say about it."

"Hm." He replies neutrally, but with a hint of a smile.

The meal proceeds quickly, and Rainbow seems to have quite the appetite for somebody so tiny. By the end, there is very little left on the table.

Great Mountain smiles contentedly, showing the barest hint of sharp fangs, and leans back in his chair. "Now that the urgent matter of our immediate survival is settled, time to talk about serious matters. We have... A vested interest in your success, and we will try to give as much help as we can.""

"However, we are... Concerned that you might be a little too inexperienced to take on Terk."

"Not to put too fine a point on it, if you try to take his team in a fair fight, he will use your bones for toothpicks."

"Yes, that is a rather annoying habit of his. Why he couldn't just use wooden ones like civilized people is beyond me."

"We would like to test your skills. A friendly match, about me and my sweet, gentle, absolutely non-terrifying wife."

Leonia remarks in a teasing voice "I can see your efforts to civilize her were mostly in vain but at least she is making an effort." to Great Mountain. At the last remark she notes "the prettiest flowers can hide the deadliest poisons."

"Civilize me? Never, my dear. I will remain a wild child until the day I die. Why would I change, when it's served so me well?" She adds with a fond glance at her husband.

"My prettiest and deadliest flower... You badly misunderstood a sentence in a language you barely spoke, figured an Orc chief had stolen your family name, and challenged him to a dominance duel."

"And when I won I got to take my prize home with me. See? It served me well."

"The power vacuum you left behind probably caused a dozen challenges to the death before a new chief came out on top and stayed on top."

"It served me well. I said nothing about anybody else."

"Yes, dear."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:02, Thu 15 Nov 2018.

Leonia smiles "I love tests. Allows me to be...creative." She waits for the others to agree to the trials. Meanwhile, she uses some Prestidigitation to separate flakes of metallic sodium and magnesium from the surroundings to fill two vials she holds prepared.