Rayna glanced away for a few moments as she thought Balahal's words over. "I guess that makes sense," she said. "Alright, so I'm not exactly the sneaky-hidey type, but I know a spell or two. Not super helpful ones...but I can sharpen my senses and make myself a little more graceful."

"Well, it's something." Balahal said, and looked thoughtful. "With your magic, do you think you would be able to listen in on a conversation?" he asked. "I will try to follow him, if I can find a good hiding spot nearby. See where he goes, if he starts acting suspicious." he sipped at his drink.

"We can head back here if we learn anything, but it would be nice to have a signal to let each other know that we should meet." he mulled it over quietly and drank.

As Balahal and Rayna discuss how they might suss out Fargoth's hiding spot, Meranique is eager to learn a spell that he thinks will take the edge off of Seyda Neen's oppressive heat. Arrille is keen to accept Meranique's money, and the Altmer apparently enjoys having a pupil as well.

However, upon learning that Meranique wishes to cast the spell on himself, however, Arrille seems taken aback. He suggests another spell that will actually cool Meranique off, Coolness.


OOC: Meranique, I sent you a PM with some different spell options. I miscalculated the cost for the Frostbite spell.

Rayna and Balahal, let me know what preparations you'd like to do make. So you're planning to watch his house? Or follow him? Seyda Neen isn't a large town, so shadowing him during the day will be difficult without being noticed.

Balahal resorted to what he was familiar with, hunting the myriad small game that surrounded his home back in Blackmarsh.

he planned to try to find a good concealed vantage point to watch from, to improve it with a little camouflage in need be, and then to wait until he saw anything interesting, and if need be to follow from there.

It was just a matter of picking the right spot...

Rayna half-shrugged at Balahal's question about her eavesdropping. "I could try... But I'd be more adept at watching from afar. Even then, magic would best be preserved for following rather than staking out. I could maintain it for a while, but not hours."

OOC: So, I goofed. I put the Keen Senses spell on my sheet, but forgot it's a separate spell for each sense. Choosing hearing now would be meta-gaming...and realistically Rayna probably would have picked vision or even scent to help with finding ingredients, etc.

Although Meranique is quite insistent that Arrille teach her how to freeze himself, he finally relents and instead learns how to cast Coolness. The lesson takes more than four hours, and the morning creeps into the afternoon.

In the village, laborers stop for lunch, and the upper floor of the tradehouse is filled with wealthier inhabitants of Seyda Neen. For a time, the tradehouse is raucous, with laughter and the clink of drinks, before the crowd empties out again after the noon meal.

Outside, Rayna and Balahal lounge and attempt to blend in to the crowd. The two are still marked as outlanders, but they are far less conspicuous than more flamboyant Meranique.

To while away the time, the Breton and the Dunmer observe Fargoth, the Wood Elf who is apparently a late-night burglar. He has a furtive, shifty look to him. Whenever one of the bored Imperial troopers passes by, Fargoth hunches his shoulders over, attempting to make himself look as small as he can. He seems to have quite a lot of free time on his hands and remains on his bench across the way. At length, he stands up, stretches his arms, yawns, and ambles off down the street. Rayna and Balahal watch as the Wood Elf crosses a small pedestrian bridge and stops before a house further down the street. He unlocks the door, pushes it open, and disappears inside.

OOC: It's now about 2:30 pm. Fargoth has done very little during this time. Meranique, you have learned Coolness, and I've noted the spell on your character sheet.

Rayna, roll a d6. On a 1 or 2, you have Keen Hearing. On a 3 or 4, you have Vision. On  a 5 or 6, you have Taste and Smell.

Balahal, roll vs. Camouflage. On a success, you find a hiding spot where you can watch Fargoth's house without being seen. If you beat your skill level by 5, your hiding spot is big enough for Rayna, too. Are you watching the front or back of Fargoth's house? On a casual stroll through the village, you'll note he only has one door, the one at the front, but he does have windows on all four sides of his house.

Balahal found a little heavily vegetated place within sight of the front door of the home and settled in, cross legged, for a long stay.

With no worries about having to have a bow on hand, it was much like hunting, only easier. His patience versus that of his quarry.

 Today: Balahal rolled 12 using 3d6.  Camouflage - 12.

From his vantage point, Balahal has a good view of Fargoth's home. The sun sets slowly in the west, as the night settles and swarms of fireflies come out, their gentle glows softly illuminating the swamp around Seyda Neen.

In the distance, a gigantic silt strider glides into town. Its bass hoooooom reverberates through the twilight as a couple of passengers disembark and walk in the direction of Arille's.

Meanwhile, Rayna has opted to spend her time gathering plants growing on the outskirts of town. She successfully grabs one of the glow bugs, pops it in a small glass jar, and tucks it amongst the flora she has accumulated.

Having cooled himself down with his new spell, Meranique finds himself feeling much more comfortable. The air has cooled a few degrees but is still quite hot and muggy in the evening. The self-styled couturiotheurge entertains himself and several bemused Seyda Neen denizens by staging a five-act, one-man rendition of the ancient Khajiiti myth the Ri'datta-ssabavezi, where Khajiit pile up on top of each other until the reach Jone, the moon more commonly called Secunda.

About an hour after sunset, the lights in Fargoth's house go out. By the twin lights of Secunda and Masser, Balahal can see Fargoth's door open and the Bosmer slip out into the night.

OOC: Balahal, Fargoth is doing his best to avoid being seen. Is your intention to follow him? If so, let me know how far back you want to follow him. Also, make a Stealth or Shadowing roll for me.

Balahal began to grow excited after he finally saw movement from Fargoth's home after the long period of waiting. He had been half convinced that the Bosmer would simply call it a night, and that he would be sitting in the bushes like an idiot until dawn.

Unfortunately, he had been sitting for so long that his legs had fallen completely asleep, so although he gave the Wood Elf plenty of space, he stumbled uncertainly along the muddy terrain as he regained his circulation to the painful sensation of pins and needles.

On the outskirts of Seyda Neen, where the fishing village meets the wetlands of the Bitter Coast, massive Graht trees, as thick around as three or four men, grow up from the swamp. The trees' canopies stretch high overhead and their extensive root systems dig through the earth. Though Balahal does his best to move as quietly as possible, he half-stumbles over one of these enormous tree roots, and his foot splashes down in one of the many small pools of brackish water.

In the gloom, Fargoth turns his head at the sound. The small Bosmer breaks out into a run down the village street, dashing off in the direction of Arille's tradehouse.

OOC: Fargoth has been alerted to your presence, Balahal. You're not sure where Rayna or Meranique are right now, but you do know that Rayna was helping you watch Fargoth's place, so she is probably nearby.

Meranique had finished his hilarious impromptu stage act moments ago. It had been a spur of the moment thing and he was not convinced that the citizens of Seyda Neen entirely grasped the brilliance of the story, but that was okay! It whiled away a few hours and was a wonderful test of his new spell, which was... adequate, she supposed.

Suddenly she sees a panicked wood elf! She glances to the side and sees a disoriented Balahel, who she knows from the ship ride here! Making another brilliant spur of the moment decision he decides to jump in the fleeing bosmer's path. "Hi! Would you like to model some fashions for me? Great!" He cracks her knuckles and waggles her fingers at the man before he can get more than two words in edgewise, casting her Bound Straitjacket spell upon him! With luck the wood elf will soon find himself enveloped in an absolutely fetching yellow ballgown with a tightly-laced hobble slip under its ruffly skirt.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:11, Mon 03 Oct 2022.

Having finished playing to a crowd of three bored Dunmer children and a toothless old Altmer woman, Meranique pivots to see a wild-eyed Bosmer run straight towards him! With a twirl of his fingers, Meranique casts an unusual spell around the hapless Elf. A restrictive jacket forms around Fargoth, binding his arms. The sudden appearance of the straightjacket causes Fargoth to trip and fall and go sprawling in the mud in front of Meranique.

One of the Dunmer children, a chubby boy about eleven years old, with his two front teeth missing, elbows a Dunmer girl in the ribs. "Ha! Look at Fargoth! What's that he's wearing?"

"I dunno," the Dunmer girl says. She is perhaps a year older and rolls her eyes. "It's all fake, anyway. It's just a play."

The third Dunmer child, a boy of about seven, just laughs and claps his hands.

OOC: Meranique, you have successfully cast Bound Straightjacket. Fargoth is currently sprawled in the mud in front of you.

Merry hops nearer the restrained Fargoth, folding his hands behind his back. After a brief pause she looks up at the man who had the bosmer all a-twitter. "Hi friend Balahal whom I know from the boat! What's up?"

The bound Bosmer struggles to get to his feet. Not being able to move his arms makes that difficult. "Help!" His voice is high-pitched, panic-filled. "I'm being attacked by a wizard!" He rolls over into the radius of a hanging lantern and struggles to sit up.

The Dunmer children scatter, and the elderly Altmer backs away slowly. "I don't want any trouble," she says, her voice clear as a bell. From down the street, Rayna Stroud approaches, looking uncertainly from Balahal to Meranique.

"She's going to kill me! Or rob me! Or turn me into a mudcrab! HEEEEEELP!"

From the direction of the Census and Excise building, several torches appear, heading towards the commotion. Arrille emerges from the tradehouse, a lantern in hand. Light spills out into the dark. "Fargoth, is that you? By the Nines! What are you doing to him?!"

OOC: Fargoth is drawing a lot of attention. Arrille is about 20 yards away, holding a lantern. The torches are probably about a hundred yards away, and they're moving in your direction.

The night is clear, and the two moons give moonlight (-5 to visibility). Lanterns are hung every so often down this main street. The light is dim (-3), and Arrille cannot see Meranique clearly.

Meranique giggles. Turning someone into a mubcrab sounds like fun! But he doesn't have that kind of magic. He thinks he once heard of a wizard who could turn people into frogs, especially princesses. He does not think Fargoth is a princess.

Spotting Rayna, Meranique flashes a big smile. "Oh hello other friend from the boat! Do you know why friend Balahal was chasing this bosmer man?"

He doesn't pay much attention to Arrille. He doesn't know who Fargoth is and nothing he is doing right now is hurting anybody as far as he knows, so surely all that commotion heading his way is about something unrelated.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:38, Tue 11 Oct 2022.

Angharad heard the commotion outside. !@#$%^ Drunks. She rolls over trying to get back to sleep. The Tradehouse comes alive as a bunch of people get up and start moving around. Ok, it could be raiders or fire. I'm certainly not going to be able to sleep now.

Angharad puts on her boots before grabbing her cloak and bow. Slinging her quiver over her shoulder, she throws the latch on the door and heads for the stairs, The Tradehouse interior is dim and she can barely see the stairs. She pauses a moment to enhance her sight. The Tradehouse becomes completely clear and Angharad takes to the stairs with confidence and heads on outside with the crowd.

The torch light is bit bright, but she moves off to the side and to string her bow. Before catching back up she takes a moment to look around. There's an elf yelling about a mage in the night and a person...dancing...and what is she wearing?

Angharad steps forward, armed, into the light. She is also Bosmer but with brown hair and small antlers sticking up from each side of her head. She wears a night shift under a green cloak and traveler's boots on her feet. She has a strung bow and nocked arrow in her hands and looks angry. She asks loudly, "Why are you attacking my countyman?"


OOC Move outside and cast Night Vision

Meranique does a flourish on his heel and smiles beatifically at the new arrival, cocking his head and giggling as if to say who, me, I'm so innocent! "I'm helping my friends!" he says with no apparent comprehension of the situation. He turns to give them the side-eye. "Although they are being real mean and not telling me what is going on! Meanie-heads!"

At the spell, Angharad's eyes flash briefly, and she is able to see as though in broad daylight. She takes in the scene in a moment. The Bosmer, whom she vaguely recognizes as a local named Fargoth, is now sitting up, his arms wrapped up in what looks to be a straightjacket. Standing over him is the Breton woman - at least, they look like a woman - dressed flamboyantly in a well-crafted petticoat, corset, blouse, and three-inch platform shoes and frilly socks. Walking away from the scene at a brisk pace is an Altmer woman in commoner's dress.

Down the street is a confused-looking Dunmer man who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. At the opposite end of the street is another Breton, a woman, dressed in alchemist's garb. And from the Census and Excise building Angharad arrived at yesterday come three troopers walking toward the scene, a Redguard and two Imperials, armed, armored, and carrying torches.

"What is this garment? Where did it come from? Get it off me!" Fargoth struggles to extricate himself from the straightjacket, but his efforts are in vain.

"Is this one of your spells, Meranique?" Arrille's tone is ice cold. "Release my friend at once, or I'll have the guards arrest you all and straighten this out!"

OOC: The time is roughly an hour after sunset. Angharad is the only one who can make out the clear details of Balahal, Rayna, and the three Imperial troopers.

"I have no idea what's going on here," Balahal calls out from the gloom. "I know this Breton, yes, but I wouldn't say we're friends. I met him earlier today on the boat into town."

"As for Fargoth - ". The Dunmer looks uncertain, and he pointedly does not look at Rayna. "I was told by an Imperial trooper that the Bosmer was a thief. Fargoth here was acting suspicious, so I thought I might follow him to see what mischief he might be up to."

OOC: GM posting for player in absence.

For her part, Rayna shrugs. From the dark, she calls out, "I have no idea what's going on here, either. I was out for an evening walk, collecting some glowbugs for a Light potion. I know Balahal and Merry, here, but I'm staying out of this."

The guards are here, so Angharad relaxes. She pulls her cloak closed around her to close off the night cold and gaze of others. She slowly steps sideways toward a empty parked cart. She watched the flambouant...man waiting for him to respond to Arrille.

OOC: Move 1 yard toward cover

"Oh... we're not friends?" Merry looks crestfallen by this revelation. "And I'm not helping? Oh, okaaaay..." He holds his arms dejectedly and shrinks a little into himself, shoulders slumping and an imaginary little raincloud appearing over his head. With a brief application of will the garment binding Fargoth pulses and dissolves into a swarm of butterflies that spiral prettily into the night sky.

When the magical bindings disappear, Fargoth scrambles to his feet. The short Bosmer looks bewildered. He glances from Meranique to over his shoulder at Balahal, and then scrambles to take refuge behind the much taller Arrille, who crosses his arms and glowers at Meranique.

"I know that you're a newcomer here, Meranique, but I trust you would know that false imprisonment can result in yourself being imprisoned." The Altmer takes in the scene, Meranqiue looking crestfallen, Balahal and Rayna deeper in the background, Angharad taking cover beside a cart parked along the road. "What exactly is going on here? Why did you waylay my friend? Hrisskar better not have put you up to this."

Meanwhile, the torches come ever closer.

OOC: Hrisskar is the Nord Legion trooper who told Balahal and Rayna about Fargoth.

The Imperial legionnaires will arrive in another minute or so. Arrille is angry, and Fargoth is fearful. If you'd like to try to mollify Arrille and/or Fargoth, you can give me a roll vs. Diplomacy, Fast-Talk, or another suitable social skill.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:26, Thu 20 Oct 2022.

Next to the cart, Angharad frowns. The tension is getting thick. The potential for misunderstanding escalates. Thinking rapidly in silence, she considers, then speaks,

"Does Hrisskar have some vendetta against my people or just this young one?"

Arrille snorts in derision. He folds his arms and glares. "No, just my friend Fargoth here. Hrisskar is a bully. Just because he is in the Legion, he thinks that his status allows him to act with impunity. He doesn't deserve his uniform."

Fargoth speaks up from behind Arrille. In contrast to Arrille's deeper baritone, the short Bosmer's voice is a whine. "I've complained to Sellus Gravius, the Imperial commander, but he has more important things to do, it seems."

Arrille shakes his head in derision. "Fargoth, you partly have yourself to blame. Stand up to Hrisskar. Don't allow him to cow you."

Fargoth looks sullen. "The last time that happened, I ended up to my ears in swamp water."

At the end of this exchange, the detachment of Imperial troopers arrives. Sometime during Fargoth and Arrille's exchange, Rayna and Balahal quietly made themselves scarce. The leader of the squad, a young Redguard woman with a scar on her right cheek, frowns.

"What's all this about? Who was screaming just now? Fargoth, this better not be more of your antics."