"Welcome Farwalker, if you want a drink, take mine, I haven't taken a sip so far, I swear." An untouched glass of wine as a welcome gift, offered in a quieter tone as to not disrupt the ongoing exchange, was extended in Farwalker's direction "It is nice to see you healthy and in one piece" Once Farwalker replied, Moyrah shifted her attention back to Naerth and his offer.


"These premises are non-negotiable. The job will pay. Well. Where you decide to go from there, be it hunting for vengeful Druids or The Frostmaiden herself, is not my concern. For the time being, only Kaltro is." He then gestured to the drinks. "Do you accept these terms?"


"I don't feel comfortable deciding for people who are not present, town speaker. It may be better to gather all together at another time, where others, who haven't had a chance to be informed about what is asked of us to do, could have a chance to do so, and then, perhaps we can reach an agreement." For some reason, it seemed like Naerth abandoned his naturally tactical and calculated demeanor, for a hastier and hurried one, a weird move for someone who has held their cards so close to the chest so far. Nevertheless, Moyrah intended to remain as tight-lipped as possible for the rest of the encounter, before she says something that she may regret.

"Don't speak with Naerth. None of you. It will do more harm than good. Everything he has to say on this will be a lie. Don't speak with Naerth. None of you. It will do more harm than good. Everything he has to say on this will be a lie." Hiln's warning echoed through Moyrah's mind endlessly.

“I don’t particularly care what you collectively agree upon. There is one Diviner in the room,” he levied a neutral expression at Moyrah. “You seem to have been dragged along into this, but if Miss Mallory wishes to keep you as baggage, then that is her decision. And if she wishes to split the payment, that is also her decision.”

The level of intent, the focus and careful phrasing, were all to be expected of Naerth's words.  Even if Mallory had leaned herself into his graces far more than the others had, she was still an uncertain player on the field as well; she couldn't expect him to dare let his guard down at all unless circumstances were forced to an extreme.  But, for the moment, there was no need to push.  Trying to coerce a more earnest response from Naerth would surely only drive a man in his position to lash out instead.  His bluntness toward Moyrah, however, was telling in its own way.  Both women were potentially a threat to him, but Moyrah was one he felt far more comfortable outwardly defying... be it personal bias of his own, or simply his comfort in knowing he'd have the support of the town behind him if she struck back.  Either way, the notion brought a scowl across Mallory's painted lips.

"Do you accept these terms?"

"I--" she began, only to stop abruptly short when the door fell over with a noisy clatter.  The noble just let her eyes shut as she adopted as best an expression of serene patience as she could manage, paused for a beat, and then tried again.  "I will do all I can to bring this man to justice, though I am in no position to speak for the others.  Miss Moyrah is quite right in her consideration for the rest, though I'll broach the matter on your behalf though; they're more likely to listen to me than you when it comes to recruiting their aid."

The wine glasses, despite their offer and symbolism in the agreement, remained untouched even after Naerth's gesture to them.  It was all too easy for him to see the battle behind Mallory's dark eyes though as the aroma of the fine drink reached her.  But for as eagerly as she'd indulged that morning when in low spirits, it seemed there was something more that managed to steel her resolve presently; be it an abundance of caution or simply professionalism, nobody could say for sure.  "That said, matters of payment are still at hand.  We've not only resolved the matter of the Lake Monster - in which I also saved the life of one of your town's fishermen who'd been thrown overboard - but we also helped contend with the Ice Trolls.  I dare say the rest will be more inclined to do further work in your name if they're first paid for what's already been completed.

For the Lake Monster; we three were involved, along with Mister Maldhon and Mister Thorben.  We were also joined by Mister Torgrim, but he hopped on of his own volition at the last moment, so I would understand if you were not inclined to include him our agreement.  Finances being what they are, after all." there was a knowing edge in the noblewoman's tone on that last part when it came to the thinned coffers Targos suffered because of its many troubles.  "All the same were involved with the slaying of the Ice Trolls.  I'm sure we can come to a fair agreement of compensation... though, in honor of our accord, I could be inclined to waive a portion of my fee.  The Ice Trolls' remains are of value for arcane crafting and could certainly fortify Targos' funding, but require a knowledgeable practitioner to properly salvage: improper attempts or simply destroying the remains could be catastrophic.  I would surrender a portion of my payment and offer my aid in that task, in return for a split of the materials rendered from the Trolls."

---

Not sure if this calls for a Persuasion check or not, but Mallory is trying to further ingratiate herself to Naerth and improve her standing with him through such offered favors.  Doing his legwork for him, recruiting the others, letting him off the hook for a portion of her payment, and assisting with reclaiming the useful parts of the Ice Trolls.  She's also giving him the chance to rebalance what he intended to pay before revealing the sum, in case he wants to try and covertly pinch some pennies.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Sat 31 July 2021.

Farwalker frowned at the fallen door. That hadn’t been her fault. That was all the grumpy Captain. She’d even been nice enough to move out of the way when he tried to shove past her. It was like people didn’t realise she weighed several hundred pounds when they did things like that. Not bothering to pick up the door, her eyes tracked around the rest of the room and it’s also rather dilapidated look. “Hmm.” Her fingers tugged at one of her talismans as she softly spoke, not quite loud enough to interrupt anything. “Show me the way.”

She squinted at the dancing lights only she could see before pulling her gaze back to Naerth. “A moment, before you bargain over the bits and pieces of people.” She was using that same, dry tone she seemed to use when something annoyed her. “This person that you want found. What is it they have that you want? From what little pieces I’ve gathered, and it would be nice for someone to paint the full picture, there’s more here than just deaths.”

To that, Mallory offered Naerth a raised brow and gestured for him to go right on ahead and explain.  Surely she could illuminate the matter herself, but just like Farwalker, she wanted to hear what the Speaker had to say too.

In reply to DM Bears (msg # 437):

With her palms planted into her knees, Moyrah leaned slightly closer to Naerth in a display of bravado "If I am not mistaken, I was invited by you to help the group by offering my skills and know-how, I wasn't found on the street and dragged into this by chance." Using her arms as leverage, she stood up and steadied herself, and gave her final goodbyes for the night. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, I will be expecting my payment in Luskan Arms until midnight as promised." Once again Targos, the town and community she helped, that she grew up in, responded back with disrespect and dismissal. Putting herself in a position of risking her life for benefit of Targosi, once again, will require a good enough incentive going forward. Moyrah waited for Naerth's response if he intended to give one, before heading out of the town hall. Instead of going towards the inn, Moyrah will wait for Farwalker and Mallory to finish their meeting, somewhere warm inside the town hall, which would give her a good enough vantage point of the exit in case the duo passes by.

Naerth's mood visibly soured at Farwalker's prying. He'd been trapped, it appeared. "A hundred-and-fifty pieces for you," Naerth responded to Moyrah, rolling his fingers. "I am sure your expertise out on the lake was invaluable, as was Thorben's. He, and the two other fishers who accompanied you on the ice, have been taken care of, so there is no need for you to worry about them. Four hundred split between the rest, as per our agreement. And Heilar will receive a small sum as thanks. This Squalborn individual was never part of any deal, so what he gets I care not. I surrender one Troll for you to dissect, as a proper appreciation for your aid." Whether or not Naerth there was any value in the Trolls' parts was uncertain, but he knew now.

Moyrah leaving made things simpler, if only slightly – there was still a nosy Goliath present. It took a moment of deliberation, and some more tapping on his desk, for Naerth to respond to her allegations regarding information withheld. "Herve was poised for death. Here, I acknowledge fault. Better precautions could have been taken, especially if we knew Kaltro stood ready with the blade. But I can't help but wonder – why kill the child? How black must your heart be, how cruel must you have become, to kill an innocent girl clinging to her teddy bear? Is it some twisted, deranged form of mercy, or is the Frostmaiden's grasp just so corrupting? We live in dark times . . . do we not wish answers?

Tap, tap. He stared directly at Mallory. "Two thousand gold pieces if Kaltro doesn't die. Zero if he does. You will receive payment if he is delivered to me or I am made aware of his precise whereabouts. I will advice against the former. There you have my final offer."

---

Mallory’s Persuasion (w/ Advantage granted by Farwalker’s and Moyrah's presence) [4 5] against Naerth's Persuasion (w/ Disadvantage due to Farwalker's prying) [16 10]: Naerth wins the contest.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:25, Wed 23 Feb 2022.

"Here, I acknowledge fault. Better precautions could have been taken, especially if we knew Kaltro stood ready with the blade."

As Naerth elaborated, the weight of Mallory's heavy-lidded glower fell squarely on him but was not paired with any sort of comment.  She had much she wished to say on that particular regard but felt it better not to antagonize the man; their bearing together was already tenuous at best.  "This is a matter we both bear responsibility for." was all she said.  Quite the shift in manner from the righteous accusations she'd levied against Naerth at the gallows when they first met.

Speculation as to Kaltro having become involved with the Frostmaiden herself raised a brow momentarily.  A slip-up, or perhaps Naerth had simply assumed she already knew?  It certainly explained a few things she'd had a sneaking suspicion of when it came to the assassin's abilities and appearance, but the noble had made no such mention of them herself prior.  Mallory's eyes fell once more to the illusions of murderer and potential accomplice she'd conjured where they stood before Naerth's desk before she whisked them out of existence with a sharp swipe of her hand through them, leaving nothing but trailing motes of fading light.

---

Before Mallory answers: out of curiosity, I'd like to see if there's any sort of apparent meaning to Naerth's pointed tapping, or if he's just fidgeting.  Not sure if that would be Insight or Investigation, so I'll let the DM choose which suits best:

Mallory Bonheur rolled 15 using 1d20
If Insight: 14
If Investigation: 20

---

Mallory's Insight check into Naerth's mannerism [14]: Unless he had more stowed away, Naerth had lost access to his tobacco. It could explain why he behaved so on edge.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:16, Mon 05 July 2021.

"Two thousand gold pieces if Kaltro doesn't die. Zero if he does. You will receive payment if he is delivered to me or I am made aware of his precise whereabouts. I will advice against the former. There you have my final offer."

The irritated drumming of Naerth's knuckles struck a familiarity with Mallory... a bit too familiar for her own comfort, really, as she once more let her gaze flicker across the poured wine glasses.  Instead she rose from her seat and offered a polite curtsy in reply.  "And you have my cooperation.  Perhaps Targos' gallows will finally prove some good for the town when all is said and done." A gesture was made Farwalker's way in clear desire that the two should take their leave.  "We'll retire to the Luskan Arms for now so that I may see whom I can recruit to the cause.  Surely you don't wish to break open your coffers here, so send someone with our pay and to inform me where the Troll bodies are being taken.  Oh... and whatever you do, don't bury them."

For a moment the noblewoman looked about with a flicker of consternation across her features.  "Astre, come.  Astre...?" she called for her fluffy cohort, only to be met with silence.  A quick lean was given to peek under the furniture he'd squirreled beneath earlier, only for Mallory to groan in frustration.  "Damn it all... he must've slipped out when the door came down.  I'd put a bell on that scoundrel if it'd do any good."  It seemed an all-seeing Diviner could pin down a cat just as well as anybody else could... which was, to say, not at all.

Farwalker rumbled something that might have been irritation. Or stones grinding together. It sounded about the same, really. “I excepted better than blatant emotional manipulation. It’s not even subtle.” She cocked her head thoughtfully, tokens in her hair clicking together softy, filling the room with the sounds of bone and wood. “And the price. Curious that he’s worth so much to you. Enough to at least keep doors attached to walls, I would think.” Farwalker had never really sat down in the room. Given the proclivity for wood to break around her, it was probably for the best. There was nothing quite as undignified as being too heavy for a chair. “More than something that keeps you from getting food. Ten times more than I’ve seen on bounties for even notorious bandits.”

She paused for just long enough for Naerth to think she was done before continuing. It was an old trick, and she only used it when someone managed to really annoy her. When she spoke again, her voice was just as cold as the air outside, “Understand that if this person is found, I will personally ensure they are torn limb from limb, no matter how capable they are. My goddess looks poorly on those that kill children. As do I. So before he dies, why don’t you tell me what you’re actually after, because you might not get it otherwise.”

“I excepted better than blatant emotional manipulation. It’s not even subtle.”
The Goliath was more clever than Naerth had initially given her credit for. Blatant, maybe. But it still hit the right notes. He'd gotten somewhere with the diviner, and that was enough for now. "Bury them?" he asked when Mallory started to leave. "why would I not . . . you know, never mind. The Trolls will be disposed of in some other way."

“Understand that if this person is found, I will personally ensure they are torn limb from limb, no matter how capable they are."
"Then I suggest Miss Mallory leave you out of it," Naerth responded. "It is a matter of business. Not everyone has had the benefit of living a life free of coin in the mountains." He reached for one of the wine glasses and downed it. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

---

Astre had to do some small loops in the sky to keep pace with the guard. It wasn't that the guard was too fast. It was that he was too slow. The distance Astre could have cleared in a matter of a single minute, the guard spent five times as long on, even if he was hurrying. The rubble from smashed buildings laid strewn along the way.

But now he approached the gates. Astre had spotted from afar that they were in poor shape, and men were scrambling about, tending to the fallen and getting the survivors to safety. The portcullis was partly lowered, but bent and stuck – the wood had splintered, though was still held together by the nails. It had ground to a halt against the jambs, and rotating the winch got them nowhere. Some of the men shouted, pointing here and there, as they dragged their fallen brethren into the flanking towers. There wasn't any sense of real structure, no real command.

Before the guard who'd left from Town Hall could round the last corner to reach the barracks, Skath had caught up with him. Or almost, rather – he was still a fair distance away. Judging from the way he had his crossbow raised and loaded, his plan was to shoot the man. But the bolt never loosed. "Halt!" Skath shouted. "Stay where you are!" The guard, though confused, obeyed, and Skath briskly closed the distance, crashed into him, and forcefully shove him against the building.

"I-I have my helmet on!" the guard said, face against the stone wall. Skath gave no response, simply gripping him tight around both wrists and leading him to the barracks where the other guards saluted him.

Skath surveyed the disarray. "Fetch me some manacles."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:59, Tue 06 July 2021.

Farwalker nodded thoughtfully, arms crossing as she considered the man’s words. “Insulting background on preconceived notions, now? It’s as if you’re reading from a book about how to deal with mercenaries.” She just sounded so disappointed. She’d been expecting better, but it seemed she wouldn’t find it here. “Normally, I would take the time to verbally spar with you, but it seems you’ve armed yourself with a butter knife.” She shrugged then, her mail jangling slightly with the motion.

She smiled again, teeth bright and white against her lips, glinting more like polished stone than enamel. “Your clumsy attempts at dissuading me from my inquiry only prove I’m correct. Very well then. We’ll see what happens next. It should be interesting, if nothing else.” She gave him a perfect courtly bow, all mocking gestures and smiles. It was actually a bit impressive considering she still had her large pack on. “Do try to stay warm, Mister Speaker,” She looked pointedly at the door on the floor, “You wouldn’t want this place to come crashing down around you.” With that, she stood and turned to leave, lingering just long enough in case he wanted to get in the last word.

"How considerate of you," Naerth said, before turning his attention back to the ledgers. "I suppose I will have to get someone to fix that door. Miss Mallory," he nodded at their departure. "Miss Farwalker."

“Normally, I would take the time to verbally spar with you, but it seems you’ve armed yourself with a butter knife.”

"Miss Farwalker, please--" Mallory tried to interject, but to no avail.  Nothing could stop a willful Goliath when they had their mind set to something, be it a door or a plea for civility.  She could only stand by in silent dismay over the brief tongue lashing given and, once Farwalker had left, offered Naerth a helpless, apologetic shrug.  A proper curtsy was given once more in parting before she hurried out along after her blunt-spoken companion... though, as she passed through the door back out into the winter world beyond, she spared a little wiggle of her fingers behind her back.

As Naerth looked about over his ledgers, a faint shimmer across the desktop beneath his hand was bound to draw his eye.  Words flowed across the surface of the wood in shimmering cursive with frankly excellent penmanship, crafted by some phantom quill until a simple message laid imprinted across the wood that endured for about a minute before it faded away as if it had never been there at all.

~Come see me at the Luskan Arms later tonight.  I'd like to be able to speak without the diversion of surly Captains and Companions.~

---

Outside in the aching cold once more.  Mallory grimaced at the blast of icy wind that seemed intent to greet her every time she stepped across a threshold; it hadn't been all that much warmer inside, really, but outside was still worse.  She did her best to keep pace with Farwalker, but it was no easy task; both for the trouble of matching her long gait amid the snow and that fact that Mallory seemed once more to diminish once she'd left Naerth's sight.  That prim, pointed manner she could bear herself with seemed to endure only as long as necessary before it fell away as little more than a necessary facade.  A strong front to hold up like a shield.  But once it was just the two women again Mallory's shoulders hunched, her demeanor darkened, and it was all too easy to see the misery in her eyes as she trudged along to return to the Luskan Arms.

"I understand where you're coming from, Miss Farwalker, but you should mind your manners around people like Naerth.  He's in a position to cause us considerable harm if he was so inclined.  It's not worth antagonizing him just to prove a point." she advised, though there was no scolding to her tone at all.  The noble herself hadn't been certain whether she'd lay into Naerth herself with all the fury her pained spirit had to offer when she stepped into his office.  Part of her was left angry with herself for having so easily slipped into the old habits of that bothersome, tiresome dance...

---

Further beyond, Astre remained in idle pursuit.  By that point it was more a matter of curiosity than anything else as he floated along in the sky far above Skath and the unfortunate guard.  The Captain had been warned to be wary of him, which meant being sneaky and remaining unseen had become a more challenging game as far as the sneaky feline's tastes were concerned.  The only thing better than prowling after mischief was doing so unnoticed!

As the two men below made their way to the barracks, the Tressym circled the building in a broad sweep to see if there were any windows or smoke channels he could find in order to get a peek within.  Though he was curious to see what Skath would do for interrogation, he doubted it would be anywhere others could easily witness.  A long, shallow dive let him land on the very edge of the roof and scamper across with dainty steps, quick to sniff about for any trace of leaking scent; a trace scent carried by warm air from within the building was always a surefire way to find a gap to squeeze through, in his experience.

---

Astre
Stealth
Mallory Bonheur rolled 17 using 1d20+4

Perception - Looking for a way in/somewhere to listen in through
Mallory Bonheur rolled 17 using 1d20+5

The adventures of Detective Astre continue!
This message was last edited by the player at 21:27, Wed 07 July 2021.

From the relatively cosy, warm emptiness of the Town hall's vestibule, Moyrah kept watch of the hallway leading to the merciless cold waiting outside. "...You are the biggest fool, have you not learned your lesson... When will you stop giving your flesh for people who can't stand you.... Are you that naive to believe that Naerth was any diffe..." The first creaks of the rickety wooden floorboards brought the self-criticizing to a screeching halt, and as soon as the shapes of the two women emerged on the doorframe, Moyrah tucked her hands away comfortably inside of her lined pockets and headed towards her acquaintances. Gradually, she closed the distance, and in order not to startle the two, called their names out. "I truly envy your endurance...", She picked up the pace to catch up to the two "... I know it seemed rash or inconsiderate but I just couldn't take the disrespect anymore, I had to leave, I had to...It was stronger than me, did I miss something."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:46, Wed 07 July 2021.

Moyrah's return to their company promptly just past the exit gave Mallory a moment to pause for her to catch up fully, though it was really quite unnecessary.  Both of the ladies towered over her and could easily overcome her stride without effort; frankly they'd have to slow down to accommodate her instead.

"Normally I'd say it's just a matter of knowing how to talk to people... but I suppose that's not really the case, is it?" she asked in hopes of some distraction, no matter how fleeting, before grim thoughts imposed on her once more.  "You don't fare well here in Targos, do you?  Why do you stay?  Surely there's better places to be; down in Neverwinter, you're as likely to see a Half-Orc in the neighborhood as you are a bird on the branch."

"It wasn't to prove a point." Farwalker replied, "It was to see how he reacted, as well as how he will react." She gave Mallory an easy smile, "Surely you don't think me a savage as well?" Her lighthearted tone took any possible heat out of her words, sounding more amused than anything. "He'll likely be more amenable to you later, as well. His 'business' deal was with you, even going as far as attempting to direct you to keep me out of it. Moyrah left early due to irritation, and I played the surly goliath that was slightly more capable than expected, but was still riled up by his words enough to leave him alone." She shrugged. "He's unsubtle and thinks he's more clever than those around him."

She turned around and walked backwards, her long stride letting her keep up with the cold duo. "As for you Moyrah, you did well enough. It's true that it's not a matter of talking to people, but of understanding why they're saying what they're saying. Which makes it both worse, and better." She grinned then suddenly, her pearlescent eyes glittering with excitement. "I can teach you the Game, if you'd like? It will be terribly embarassing, but quite enjoyable. It's even more fun with a touch of alcohol. We Suneites are quite fond of it."

Mallory's abundance of understanding and compassion genuinely surprised Moyrah. Her good intentions and willingness to lend out a helping hand weren't doubted by Moyrah, but the noble's ability to understand the predicaments of poor, misshapen and ostracized while putting them into words with such grace and eloquence. It really does seem like the prejudices really do travel in both directions across the social classes, and the Half-orc has found herself being the perpetrator of such crime, for the first time in her life "No offence, but I just never thought that you could understand, a woman of your grace and stature, I am sorry but it's just new for me"

"As for you Moyrah, you did well enough. It's true that it's not a matter of talking to people, but of understanding why they're saying what they're saying. Which makes it both worse, and better...I can teach you the Game, if you'd like? It will be terribly embarassing, but quite enjoyable. It's even more fun with a touch of alcohol. We Suneites are quite fond of it."


"It still hurts you know, and is exhausting at times, I admire your ability to keep your composure Farwalker, both in and out of combat, sometimes I am under an impression like you are sculpted out of stone" the goliath's offer shifted the tone of the conversation very quickly afterward, and it has shown how wrong Moyrah's initial impression was. "Sure, Sure, can we do it in the Luskan Arms, we can get some alcohol there, we deserve it after all."

"You don't fare well here in Targos, do you?  Why do you stay?  Surely there's better places to be; down in Neverwinter, you're as likely to see a Half-Orc in the neighborhood as you are a bird on the branch."

"To your homeland? I am sorry miss Mallory but I don't know where it is. You see, I have ventured beyond these walls very few times in my life and not so far to be precise." Moyrah's knowledge of the lay of the land was pretty limited to what she had managed to overhear from her father's clients through her childhood. She often times imagined these places and how they looked like, what the architecture looked like, monuments, streets, people... "I have spent most of my time on the lake, with my father and my trusty harpoon by my side, doing what has become my life's calling, ice fishing. Do you think I would be able to find my way in Neverwinter? "

The tone shifted mid-conversation "Miss Mallory, you are a bright woman, but both of you, please.... please be safe around..." Moyrah leaned in, continued in a hushed tone "...Naerth...", she then leans back to her usual stance. ".... Not to be trusted, even Hiln told me so, I just couldn't pass it on as you were too busy talking to Skath at the time..." Once she leaned in closer "I am sure you heard about the Zentharim rumors...?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:51, Thu 08 July 2021.

The flippancy Farwalker exhibited wasn't surprising by that point; she'd shown to certainly be the sort to march to her own beat and, while her steadfast confidence was reassuring in a manner, Mallory had learned all too well the folly of self-assuredness.  "Just try and be more cautious, please?  My nerves can't handle much more."  If he really wanted to, Naerth could just proclaim any of them to be jailed or thrown out of Targos as he pleased, after all.

"No offence, but I just never thought that you could understand, a woman of your grace and stature, I am sorry but it's just new for me"

Moyrah's surprise was met with a rueful, half-hearted smile; the best Mallory could manage in her present mood.  "You and I share more alike than you'd think; the Bonheur family are 'working nobles'.  We gained our title through labor and accomplishment by our trade, not idle inheritance.  I assure you, the old money nobility find us quite distasteful as little more than 'upstart commoners with delusions of grandeur'.  But there is more nobility to be found in the honest labors of our fathers, and how we honor others, than in any kingly court."

"Do you think I would be able to find my way in Neverwinter?"

"If I'm so lucky as to return there shortly myself, I'll happily bring you along with me; a woman of your strength and manner would never be without work amid the shipyards.  The sooner we can abandon this gods-forsaken tundra, the better.  Neverwinter lies on the ocean cliffs just south of here, only twice a tenday's ride by wagon.  Why, if we scaled those heights--" she gestured to the distant rise of Kelvin's Cairn to the north "--we could see her twinkling lights against the dark of the nighttime sea and sky, as bright as the stars themselves.  It truly earns its name as the 'Jewel of the North'."

There was no mistaking the longing in her voice as she spoke of her home, nor did she really make any effort to hide it in the first place.  The desire to return to Neverwinter was a desperation by that point, but there was no helping it.  Though Moyrah's following warnings against giving Naerth too much leeway or trust given the rumors that surrounded him was a suitable diversion, albeit one met with an idle blink.  "Of course he's with the Zhentarim." she noted blithely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  "I mean, for goodness' sake, he offered me two hundred Platinum coins merely to aid in Kaltro's capture; that kind of money certainly isn't coming out of Targos' meager treasury." Though she kept her voice low, it was all too apparent she knew full well and very likely had a lot more understanding of things than either of the two did in their own prodding suspicions.  "But this isn't something we should speak freely of.  Best save it for more private spaces and the ears of our other companions."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:25, Thu 08 July 2021.

Farwalker laughed her booming laugh, “Caution is often a fear of living, I find. And not something we Goliaths are particularly known for. There’s any number of ignoble ends for us in life, but not from a man that thinks he has a use for us. Besides, I imagine people would be quite upset to learn just how much he’s willing to spend on finding a single man instead of on finding food for their hearths.” She waved the thought away with one hand. “Besides, it matters naught, now. What is done is done, and we can only move forward. Or forward by going backwards in my case.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she didn’t trip on anything.

“But on brighter topics, why stop at Neverwinter? There’s far more of the world out there than a single city. Oh! I know.” She turned back to walking normally, looking down towards Moyrah. “There’s an ogre in Candlekeep you should meet. I think you’d like him. He enjoys reading and debating philosophy. Quite the clever fellow, and very used to dealing with prejudice. He had a few good recommendations for me. This was before I traveled with the Suneites.” She looked off towards the distant mountain, hidden away in the gloom.

“I climbed up there, once. A long time ago. I wanted to be as close to the sky as I could be. To see the stars as you could nowhere else.” Her voice was quiet and wistful, but still rumbling with that gravely edge it always had. “They called me Farwalker, when I left. A name to match my future deeds. Would you like to see the sky as I do? I could show the both of you, if you’d like.”

"If you mean to pick me up, I would rather politely decline, thank you." Mallory promptly gave as a flat retort.

"I will hold both of you to your word, Once we leave these walls, you better show me all the world that was hidden away from me so far..." Moyrah placed her hand on the shoulders of her new guides, as a gesture of gratefulness and companionship "... If you don't mind, I will quickly run to my home, to check it out... After the burglary I have grown a bit paranoid about the security of my belongings. I will rejoin you though, in a blink of an eye, if you don't mind. If our lake monster pay arrives, just... just take it in my name." With her farewells said, Moyrah waved to Mallory and Farwalker, and started running towards her home.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Thu 08 July 2021.

Astre's Stealth check to remain hidden [17]: For all intents and purposes, Astre was the night.

---

The roof of the barracks had taken some beating from the Trolls, Astre found as he landed atop it. Pieces from the guard tower had been knocked loose and laid strewn amid shattered shingles.

As it typically was, the guards were too preoccupied with being dumb humans to ever notice Astre, even if he was sauntering right above their very heads. They never did properly pay attention to their surroundings. He bet he could even meow loudly, and the guards wouldn't hear him through all the commotion they were making.

---

Astre's Perception check to find a way in [17]: Astre had some . . . options.

---

"Lean on it! One, two, three!" From the metallic, clanky sounds, Astre figured they were trying to get the chains unstuck so they could work the winch again. That was all happening within the guard tower which was connected to the barracks, though separated by a brick wall and perhaps a door. Astre could have hopped down on a barrel and shimmied in the main entrance to the barracks behind someone, like he had done back at Herve's house. Seeing as it had high throughput and opened in regular intervals, it wasn't difficult to find the opening. But doing so here was far more risky – there were more eyes to go around. Even if he avoided one pair, another could catch his tail-end. Or wing-end.

There was no smoke coming from the chimney, but despite the fact that Astre could easily contort his way down, he'd likely exit covered in soot. A stealth mission could quickly be compromised by black paw prints everywhere he went. And even if he had time to clean himself, soot tasted awful. Noxious*, even. The approach banked on the guards being diligent with their chimney sweeping.

The last option was one offered to him by the Trolls. There were smashed bricks everywhere, and while he couldn't see an opening, he felt warm air from the barracks brush against his whiskers. Undearneath it all, the rubble had punched a hole. Finding it wasn't the hard part. Getting to it could be trickier.**

And if all else failed, there were windows to the building, frosted as they were. They provided no entrance, as all of them, similarly to essentially every single window in the town up to now, was closed. Warmth was too precious to leave them open. But it might be possible to listen in. It could pose a problem, however, as staying unseen and close to Skath's interrogation could potentially be mutually exclusive. His ears twitched, listening for the sounds within the building he stood on. A heavy thunk, and a lukewarm cry of pain. ". . . did I . . . no! . . gates . . ." That was the guards voice. ". . . you!" That was Skath's voice.

---

*Poison Sense kicking in!

I've established there's a lot of people around, so I'm going to make this more of a challenge than last time. Astre will have to work for his earnings, just like everybody else.

**Whoops, this got lost somewhere along my revisions. Acrobatics check 15.

---

Something else caught the Tressym's eyes – in the distance, Astre could see torchlights approaching Moyrah's hut.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:19, Thu 08 July 2021.

Astre
Yes, yes... good.  Lots of potential access, lots of possible escape routes.  Astre's cautious investigation was underway and his ears prickled with the promising mutterings of furtive, incriminating conversation beyond the compromised barrack walls.  Though just as he set to decide on an angle of attack, he flinched when a sharp, panicked cry boomed out loud enough that even the guards below probably caught a bit of it.  To his keen hearing it was jarring enough to bristle up his fur and feathers alike in momentary surprise, then quickly cast his gaze in the direction it had come from.

Given the snowy skies and distant bluster, it was impossible to see too far out into Targos.  Perhaps if the day had been clear, sure, but fine details were lost amid the winds.  Feline senses focused as best they could to pick out torch smoke on the breeze, flickers of flame along the streets amid a gathered hubbub.  His attention was split as he heard the thumping coming from inside as Skath was up to his own antics with the unfortunate guard.  Back and forth, back and forth, the Tressym fretted on the moment.  He couldn't just abandon the investigation!  He was fast on the case in a prime position to--

But, as Astre squinted his eyes shut in frustration, the first thing that came to his mind was Moyrah's delighted face beaming down at him and those broad, rough hands lavishing him with affection back when they'd first met.

With a low growl of bottled frustration, Astre arched and took to the skies once more.  There'd be other chances...

---

Alas, Astre abandons the opportunity.  Curse you, power of friendship!  He'll be full-speed Dashing to get within Telepathy range of Mallory, but it's up to the DM to decide the timeline of when everyone can cross paths with the angry mob underway.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:28, Thu 08 July 2021.