“Hmm..... interesting..... Miss Thornton’s name has cropped up a few times now.....” The voice trails away as Serak withdraws the tin from his pack, the metal work corroded in a corner where the leaking poison has been pooling. To his right the soft whisper starts once more, “Of course loyalty will only get you so far.... if you are not with us.... you are of course against us. Though I do not doubt you have valid reasons for your absence.” Yet another long silence follows. Outside a cat skips along down the narrow street, it’s shadow catching Seraks eye. “By chance, we have a mutual friend staying in the city tonight. One with a great interest in this Phandalin situation. It seems there is potential here to an agreement which will benefit both parties.... if of course that interests you? They will be most capable of handling all of your buying and selling needs”
OOC: Moonstone mask is probably the best choice for you guys. I’ll write up shortly unless there’s any objections
While Serak conducts his business Beetle heads to the Tyr shrine to converse with is deity for a bit. As he turns to go... "Syna, I will meet you at the inn in a little bit." He turns to head off to the shrine.
Leaving the others behind, Beetle makes his way west towards the Halls of Justice. His previous visits to the city didn't really give him enough time to take in the magnificence of the building, but now perhaps he will have a chance.
The streets are mostly empty. Strange for such a large city. Save for the odd cat or drunk, Beetle could swear he was the only soul left walking the streets. Though the rain probably has more to do with that than anything he thinks to himself. After a few short minutes, the beautiful stone temple appears before him. As tall and grand as he remembers. How long has it been? Surely no more than two days since he was here... but it feels like a lifetime ago.
Pacing along the buildings southern wall he checks the statues off against the memory in his mind - Bahamut, Helm, Kelemvor, Oghma and of course Tyr, the bringer of justice. Desperate to get out of the rain, and honestly a little curious of the interior, Beetle heads towards the entrance. Two huge double doors, easily 20 feet high swing open at the gentlest touch of his hand without making a sound, revealing an intricately carved marble hallway. High above, the ceiling stretches skywards in swirls of white, decorated with lifelike effigies of the gods. A huge stained glass window dominates the far wall, displaying an image of Tyr. The maimed god stands victorious, sword in hand, standing over a fallen foe with no face. A short distance away stands a grand shrine dedicated to Tyr, surrounded by a number of lit candles.
Slowly Beetle walks towards the shrine, eyes firmly fixed on the colourful display before him. His footsteps echo around the otherwise empty hall until he finally stops beside the shrine. Beside a pile of unlit candles sits a small wooden sign. "Blessings by the good grace of Tyr - 50 Silver."Beetle grumbles as he reads it under his breath. Traditional temple tactics.
Arkhan, Syna:
With Serak long gone and Beetle going on alone, Arkhan, Syna and Zyltris begin the quiet walk towards the nearest inn. The streets are empty, save for the odd stray cat or drunk. Though the relentless rain probably has more to do with that than anything. Following the music, the trio head westwards following the river on its way towards the sea. Up ahead in the distance, a grand stately home hovers in the air. Five storeys tall, the building floats about 20 feet above them, tied firmly to the earth by a set of four huge iron chains.
"Ah.... we've been here before" Zyltris says, recognizing the place, "We were here a couple of nights ago Arkhan. You'll like it here." Without a second thought, the two elves leap into a small green portal nearby and disappear in a flash of bright green. Grumbling to himself, Arkhan follows suit. Stepping into the swirling portal, Arkhan is instantly blinded by the bright green light. The dragonborn scrunches his eyes tightly, willing his sight to return.
"Zyltris! Syna! Welcome back! And you have brought a companion with you." A womans voice. Slowly Arkhans vision returns, albeit tinged with green at first. "Welcome Sirs, to the Moonstone Mask. Right this way, I have a table waiting." The woman, dressed in a sheer black gown from head to toe, quickly turns on her heel and heads inside beckoning for them to follow. Though her voice sounds young and fair, he face is hidden. Covered with a glowing mask, edged in moonstones.
Opening the set of double doors for them, the woman leads the party inside. The main hall is lavishly decorated. Paintings and statues adorn the walls, leading the eye to a huge central staircase that dominates the room from the opposite wall. The masked woman turns to Arkhan as she leads them through the maze of tables towards a grand fireplace. "Sir, my name is Lerissa. I'm sure these gentlemen will have told you this already, hence you being here... but I will be your chaperone for the evening. Food, drink and board is all provided here my dears for a set fee of 4 Gold per head. We have hot pies, fish skewers, soups, wines and ales on tap as well as a variety of other services should you require anything at all. Here we are now..." With that, Lerissa waves an arm towards an empty table beside the fireplace. Momentarily awestruck, Arkhan gazes around him. This place is packed with diners and drinkers, all laughing and joking, all accompanied by their own cloaked woman. "Now then... what are we having this evening gents?"
Arkhan leans into the cloaked woman so she can get a clear view of his face.
(ooc: seeing if I can use my background feature here) "I'll take your finest, hardest, whiskey or rum... for the best price you can offer Arkhan Voldez"
(ooc: I assume Arkhan has spent a lot of time around Sword Coast as a pirate, so seeing if I can get my services on the house tonight.)
FEATURE: BAD REPUTATION
No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your reputation. When you are in a civilized settlement, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities.
“Forgive me Sir. I did not know we had a celebrity staying. You really should have called ahead! Zyltris why didn’t you tell me your friend here was so important?” Clearly flustered, Lerissa spins away from the table, “I’ll fetch a round straight away Sirs. Sit tight now!”
In a flash the cloaked maiden scurries away, returning almost instantly with a tray of large tankards. Plonking a tankard before each of them, she takes a seat at the table, “Here we are..... Honeydew Rum. It’s sweet, but very firm. We have a cask on reserve here.... So what brings you back to the Mask gentlemen? You had a successful dragon hunt I trust?”
There’s a moments pause before Lerissa corrects herself, turning to the golden Dragonborn, “... I mean.... not that dragons need to be hunted... though in a way they found you! And I’m very glad they did!”
“At ease my dear, I don’t mean you any harm. My friends didn't know how widely appreciated I am. We've only just met." Arkhan smiles at the woman.
"It is good to be back, my friend here and his comrades actually saved me. And together we did have quite a successful hunt. We actually are going to be looking to sell some harvested bits here tomorrow morning. Know anyone specifically interested in that sort of thing that would pay handsomely? If you do it could fall back favorably to you as well. I tend to reward those who make me rich.”
Straightening her mask, Lerissa composed herself, “Good! I’m glad to hear all is well. Neverwinter of course is famous for its busy market, let me think.” The woman reaches a hand into her cloak, and pulls out a shining golden amulet with an inset emerald. Clutching the necklace tightly, she falls silent for a moment, “Yes, very much depends on what you have to sell Sirs. There’s Eldeth the jeweller, Rurik who is more of a smith, Astaro sells potions and arcane materials and Devyn is our local butcher - They’re all very popular and have their own stores along the river. Otherwise, Percival at the harbour might be more to your liking. He’s in charge of trade down there. A little rough and drives a hard bargain but he’ll buy anything he can sell.” The lady rises to her feet once more, “Now then.... who’s hungry?”
Syna takes a seat, "Tea for me please. Some of that spicy cinnamon blend if you have any, and a hot pie would be welcome. Lerissa, we've late had some encounters with a group of ruffians calling themselves Redbrands. Have they made themselves known here in the city? They seemed only country ruffians, but there is an inkling they are tied to something larger."
Seeing the donation plate, Beetle know it is a scam by the temple to generate income because the gods have no need for coin...however....convincing himself that the donations at least somewhat go to the shrine upkeep Beetle puts 5 gold into the donation plate and then goes on with his business of conversing with Tyr...
"Thank you almighty for guiding us through that village safely and helping us in defeat the dragon. Please continue to guide me and help me keep down my inner demons. Watch over my companions and myself as we continue our journey, and along the way we will bring Vengeance to an evil."
After finishing the prayers Beetle makes his way back to meet Syna at the inn, hoping the group can make some decent money off the treasure and re-armor himself to better protect the group.
Beetles hard earned coins clinks gently as he drops it into the collection plate. Almost immediately a single candle on the candelabrum is set alight, flickering gently. Tyr stares straight ahead as the paladin says his prayer. Soothed by the presence of his god, Beetle feels a great calm descend over him. His words have been heard.
As he turns to leave, a pair of priests shuffle in through the huge wooden doors, each with a large golden necklace depicting a set of scales resting on a warhammer - Priests of Tyr. "Good evening Brother" says the first from beneath his long hooded cloak as the shuffle past. The second barely nods his head, eyes fixed on the statue, quietly whispering a blessing of some kind. Beetle catches the door, stepping back into the rainy night once more.Next stop: The Moonstone Mask. Surely Syna and the others have made it there by now.
A few dark narrow streets later, Beetle finds himself at the familiar forecourt to the mask. The huge manor house still floats 20 feet off the ground, still held in place by the thick iron chains that gently rattle. Quite frankly the spectacle wares off slightly after the first visit. Stepping into a bright green portal nearby, the paladin disappears in a flash of bright light. Half a moment later, he is 20 feet higher, standing directly before the entrance to the inn, the city of Neverwinter sprawled behind him. Blinking the flickering green light from his eyes, he steps inside.
The main feasthall is as packed as ever, each table full of patrons eating, drinking and laughing loudly. Sitting with most tables, a cloaked lady. Their faces covered with eyemasks decorated with beautiful blue moonstones. Beetle scours the room... perhaps they haven't made it here after all. Then he spots them, sat cozily beside the fire on the right hand side of the room.
Beetle, Syna, Arkhan:
"Ah Beetle! I'm glad you could join us!" Lerissa calls across the room, seemingly delighted to see the paladin again. "Welcome! Indeed... welcome BACK to the Moonstone Mask. I was just about to fetch some tea and pies for Syna here... will you be boarding with the others tonight? This lovely dragonborn gentlemen has covered the bill already!" Rising from her stool the cloaked lady gestures for Beetle to sit, turning back to Syna as she does so, "Redbrands.... can't say I've heard of them. We did have a gentleman from some small village to the south mention something about them a while back.... but I can't say we've had any problems here in the city. I have no doubt though that you'll keep them at bay though! Isn't that right my dears!"
Serak:
"Excellent my brother. Most excellent. Let us not waste any more time, the night is upon us." Clearly delighted, the whispering voice moves back towards the doorway, seemingly beckoning Serak to follow, "Head to the Broken Crown Inn within the hour. It'll be full of drunken sailors at this time but there will be a familiar face lurking in the dark. Just tell them Sylas sent you and they will ensure you are well looked after." Outside at the end of the street, a dog starts barking. Silence falls over the abandoned cottage, though Serak knows better than to feel alone. Clearly the conversation is over... but his brethren will still be watching.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Serak:
Eager to be free of the disquieting cottage, Serak simply nods his agreement and steps once again into the cool night air. Breathing a sigh of relief, the bard makes his way as cautiously as possible toward The Broken Crown Inn. He stays to alleys and the shadows whenever possible, looping and doubling back several times, while leaving himself enough time to make his meeting.
Arkhan leans forward, "Yes please give my friend Beetle here anything he needs. We could use some of your best rooms if you don't mind. And before you leave, some more drink for me and I'm particularly famished, I've gone from being capture and tortured to slaying a dragon all within a day. Could you please fetch me whatever is the finest meat and bread you have. Be sure to let the chefs know its for me and let them know I appreciate their hard work." Arkhan slumps back in his chair and closes his eyes. "Thank you miss, remind me your name, I do appreciate your help."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Gash- Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
“Just hold on one sec and I’ll do just that Sir. Lerissa you call me, I’ll be back shortly.” With a bow and a nervous chuckle, the masked woman hurries back to the kitchens. In her haste she sends a colleague spinning backwards, her tray of drinks almost spilling over a table of drunken dwarves. For the time being the companions are alone.
Serak:
Following a winding trail towards the harbour, Serak almost loses himself in the narrow alleys of the Protectors Enclave. Convinced he is safe from being tailed, the bard finally heads back towards the river following its flow towards the ocean.
Neverwinter harbour is a simple affair. Once a flourishing port, it’s clear that the dock has seen better days. Old wooden ships of every size line the quay, some in better shape than others. Run down cabins and warehouses litter the boardwalk, all dark and devoid of life. In the distance, a set of windows blaze with light. Yells, laughter and loud drunken shanties echo through the air, growing louder with each of the bards silent steps. Outside a top heavy, burly sailor relieves himself into the sea.
Feigning confidence as he strides up to the doorway, Serak steps inside. The music stops abruptly. Every set of eyes is on him, a stranger in a tightly bound brotherhood of a very different kind. “OI! WHO ORDERED THE JESTER?!” A short fat captain at the bar bursts out laughing, streams of yellow ale leaking from his nose. Taking his queue, the singing dwarf in the corner resumes his shanty and the room bustles back into life.
Serak scans the room. Bright orange lanterns illuminate every inch of this stinking hole. Except for a single darkened corner where a lantern has been extinguished. Sat at a table covered in shadow, a young blonde woman. Serak recognises her instantly. The look of disgust on her otherwise beautiful face tells him that she has done the same. Halia Thornton. A sickening feeling swells in the bards stomach, burning at the back of his throat.
Syna looks up from his tea, a relaxed look on his face, "Not very much. Rumors of Redbrands have not made their way here, so that is a dead end in our search for Gundren (after all this time Syna considers that Gundren is probably dead). I was just about to ask of any rumors of a Black Spider or if their is a historian or library where we might find information on Cragsmaw."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Serak:
Swallowing back the lump in this throat, Serak does his best to appear unfazed by the unexpected appearance of his nemesis, Halia Thornton. At the sailor's joke, the bard replies, "Ho, my friend! This simple Skald would consider himself lucky to make the coin a true court jester earns!"
Serak decides a bit of petty revenge against his rival is in order, in the form of auditory bombardment. Walking up beside the singing dwarf, Serak cheerfully takes up the shanty alongside the sailors, dancing to the tune.
Preformance: 8
Finishing the song, the bard bows with a flourish before making his way toward Halia's table. He smiles slyly and says, "No need to ask what a girl like you is doing in a place like this..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien
The laughter and singing in the small bar becomes deafeningly loud as Serak finishes his entertaining performance. The sailors stomp their feet in time, shaking the very foundations of the wooden building. As he spins away from the stage Halia rolls her eyes.
Without making eye contact, Halia snorts as the bard draws a stool. “I could ask you the same thing.... though it’s obviously not to entertain these men. I’d advise you to scram, I’m waiting for someone and they won’t be best pleased if you’re unpleasant odour is still hanging in the air.”
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Serak:
“Hmm..... interesting..... Miss Thornton’s name has cropped up a few times now.....” The voice trails away as Serak withdraws the tin from his pack, the metal work corroded in a corner where the leaking poison has been pooling. To his right the soft whisper starts once more, “Of course loyalty will only get you so far.... if you are not with us.... you are of course against us. Though I do not doubt you have valid reasons for your absence.” Yet another long silence follows. Outside a cat skips along down the narrow street, it’s shadow catching Seraks eye. “By chance, we have a mutual friend staying in the city tonight. One with a great interest in this Phandalin situation. It seems there is potential here to an agreement which will benefit both parties.... if of course that interests you? They will be most capable of handling all of your buying and selling needs”
OOC: Moonstone mask is probably the best choice for you guys. I’ll write up shortly unless there’s any objections
While Serak conducts his business Beetle heads to the Tyr shrine to converse with is deity for a bit. As he turns to go... "Syna, I will meet you at the inn in a little bit." He turns to head off to the shrine.
Beetle:
Leaving the others behind, Beetle makes his way west towards the Halls of Justice. His previous visits to the city didn't really give him enough time to take in the magnificence of the building, but now perhaps he will have a chance.
The streets are mostly empty. Strange for such a large city. Save for the odd cat or drunk, Beetle could swear he was the only soul left walking the streets. Though the rain probably has more to do with that than anything he thinks to himself. After a few short minutes, the beautiful stone temple appears before him. As tall and grand as he remembers. How long has it been? Surely no more than two days since he was here... but it feels like a lifetime ago.
Pacing along the buildings southern wall he checks the statues off against the memory in his mind - Bahamut, Helm, Kelemvor, Oghma and of course Tyr, the bringer of justice. Desperate to get out of the rain, and honestly a little curious of the interior, Beetle heads towards the entrance. Two huge double doors, easily 20 feet high swing open at the gentlest touch of his hand without making a sound, revealing an intricately carved marble hallway. High above, the ceiling stretches skywards in swirls of white, decorated with lifelike effigies of the gods. A huge stained glass window dominates the far wall, displaying an image of Tyr. The maimed god stands victorious, sword in hand, standing over a fallen foe with no face. A short distance away stands a grand shrine dedicated to Tyr, surrounded by a number of lit candles.
Slowly Beetle walks towards the shrine, eyes firmly fixed on the colourful display before him. His footsteps echo around the otherwise empty hall until he finally stops beside the shrine. Beside a pile of unlit candles sits a small wooden sign. "Blessings by the good grace of Tyr - 50 Silver." Beetle grumbles as he reads it under his breath. Traditional temple tactics.
Arkhan, Syna:
With Serak long gone and Beetle going on alone, Arkhan, Syna and Zyltris begin the quiet walk towards the nearest inn. The streets are empty, save for the odd stray cat or drunk. Though the relentless rain probably has more to do with that than anything. Following the music, the trio head westwards following the river on its way towards the sea. Up ahead in the distance, a grand stately home hovers in the air. Five storeys tall, the building floats about 20 feet above them, tied firmly to the earth by a set of four huge iron chains.
"Ah.... we've been here before" Zyltris says, recognizing the place, "We were here a couple of nights ago Arkhan. You'll like it here." Without a second thought, the two elves leap into a small green portal nearby and disappear in a flash of bright green. Grumbling to himself, Arkhan follows suit. Stepping into the swirling portal, Arkhan is instantly blinded by the bright green light. The dragonborn scrunches his eyes tightly, willing his sight to return.
"Zyltris! Syna! Welcome back! And you have brought a companion with you." A womans voice. Slowly Arkhans vision returns, albeit tinged with green at first. "Welcome Sirs, to the Moonstone Mask. Right this way, I have a table waiting." The woman, dressed in a sheer black gown from head to toe, quickly turns on her heel and heads inside beckoning for them to follow. Though her voice sounds young and fair, he face is hidden. Covered with a glowing mask, edged in moonstones.
Opening the set of double doors for them, the woman leads the party inside. The main hall is lavishly decorated. Paintings and statues adorn the walls, leading the eye to a huge central staircase that dominates the room from the opposite wall. The masked woman turns to Arkhan as she leads them through the maze of tables towards a grand fireplace. "Sir, my name is Lerissa. I'm sure these gentlemen will have told you this already, hence you being here... but I will be your chaperone for the evening. Food, drink and board is all provided here my dears for a set fee of 4 Gold per head. We have hot pies, fish skewers, soups, wines and ales on tap as well as a variety of other services should you require anything at all. Here we are now..." With that, Lerissa waves an arm towards an empty table beside the fireplace. Momentarily awestruck, Arkhan gazes around him. This place is packed with diners and drinkers, all laughing and joking, all accompanied by their own cloaked woman. "Now then... what are we having this evening gents?"
Arkhan leans into the cloaked woman so she can get a clear view of his face.
(ooc: seeing if I can use my background feature here)
"I'll take your finest, hardest, whiskey or rum... for the best price you can offer Arkhan Voldez"
(ooc: I assume Arkhan has spent a lot of time around Sword Coast as a pirate, so seeing if I can get my services on the house tonight.)
FEATURE: BAD REPUTATION
No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your reputation. When you are in a civilized settlement, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities.
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Arkhan, Syna:
“Forgive me Sir. I did not know we had a celebrity staying. You really should have called ahead! Zyltris why didn’t you tell me your friend here was so important?” Clearly flustered, Lerissa spins away from the table, “I’ll fetch a round straight away Sirs. Sit tight now!”
In a flash the cloaked maiden scurries away, returning almost instantly with a tray of large tankards. Plonking a tankard before each of them, she takes a seat at the table, “Here we are..... Honeydew Rum. It’s sweet, but very firm. We have a cask on reserve here.... So what brings you back to the Mask gentlemen? You had a successful dragon hunt I trust?”
There’s a moments pause before Lerissa corrects herself, turning to the golden Dragonborn, “... I mean.... not that dragons need to be hunted... though in a way they found you! And I’m very glad they did!”
“At ease my dear, I don’t mean you any harm. My friends didn't know how widely appreciated I am. We've only just met." Arkhan smiles at the woman.
"It is good to be back, my friend here and his comrades actually saved me. And together we did have quite a successful hunt. We actually are going to be looking to sell some harvested bits here tomorrow morning. Know anyone specifically interested in that sort of thing that would pay handsomely? If you do it could fall back favorably to you as well. I tend to reward those who make me rich.”
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Arkhan, Syna:
Straightening her mask, Lerissa composed herself, “Good! I’m glad to hear all is well. Neverwinter of course is famous for its busy market, let me think.” The woman reaches a hand into her cloak, and pulls out a shining golden amulet with an inset emerald. Clutching the necklace tightly, she falls silent for a moment, “Yes, very much depends on what you have to sell Sirs. There’s Eldeth the jeweller, Rurik who is more of a smith, Astaro sells potions and arcane materials and Devyn is our local butcher - They’re all very popular and have their own stores along the river. Otherwise, Percival at the harbour might be more to your liking. He’s in charge of trade down there. A little rough and drives a hard bargain but he’ll buy anything he can sell.” The lady rises to her feet once more, “Now then.... who’s hungry?”
Serak:
Not seeing much other choice, Serak nods and says, "Alright, I'm in. Fill me in on this arrangement and whoever it is I'll be meeting."
"Not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien
Syna takes a seat, "Tea for me please. Some of that spicy cinnamon blend if you have any, and a hot pie would be welcome. Lerissa, we've late had some encounters with a group of ruffians calling themselves Redbrands. Have they made themselves known here in the city? They seemed only country ruffians, but there is an inkling they are tied to something larger."
"ALWAYS GIVE A MONSTER AN EVEN BREAK!"
1st Edition DMG
Beetle at the temple...
Seeing the donation plate, Beetle know it is a scam by the temple to generate income because the gods have no need for coin...however....convincing himself that the donations at least somewhat go to the shrine upkeep Beetle puts 5 gold into the donation plate and then goes on with his business of conversing with Tyr...
"Thank you almighty for guiding us through that village safely and helping us in defeat the dragon. Please continue to guide me and help me keep down my inner demons. Watch over my companions and myself as we continue our journey, and along the way we will bring Vengeance to an evil."
After finishing the prayers Beetle makes his way back to meet Syna at the inn, hoping the group can make some decent money off the treasure and re-armor himself to better protect the group.
Beetle:
Beetles hard earned coins clinks gently as he drops it into the collection plate. Almost immediately a single candle on the candelabrum is set alight, flickering gently. Tyr stares straight ahead as the paladin says his prayer. Soothed by the presence of his god, Beetle feels a great calm descend over him. His words have been heard.
As he turns to leave, a pair of priests shuffle in through the huge wooden doors, each with a large golden necklace depicting a set of scales resting on a warhammer - Priests of Tyr. "Good evening Brother" says the first from beneath his long hooded cloak as the shuffle past. The second barely nods his head, eyes fixed on the statue, quietly whispering a blessing of some kind. Beetle catches the door, stepping back into the rainy night once more.Next stop: The Moonstone Mask. Surely Syna and the others have made it there by now.
A few dark narrow streets later, Beetle finds himself at the familiar forecourt to the mask. The huge manor house still floats 20 feet off the ground, still held in place by the thick iron chains that gently rattle. Quite frankly the spectacle wares off slightly after the first visit. Stepping into a bright green portal nearby, the paladin disappears in a flash of bright light. Half a moment later, he is 20 feet higher, standing directly before the entrance to the inn, the city of Neverwinter sprawled behind him. Blinking the flickering green light from his eyes, he steps inside.
The main feasthall is as packed as ever, each table full of patrons eating, drinking and laughing loudly. Sitting with most tables, a cloaked lady. Their faces covered with eyemasks decorated with beautiful blue moonstones. Beetle scours the room... perhaps they haven't made it here after all. Then he spots them, sat cozily beside the fire on the right hand side of the room.
Beetle, Syna, Arkhan:
"Ah Beetle! I'm glad you could join us!" Lerissa calls across the room, seemingly delighted to see the paladin again. "Welcome! Indeed... welcome BACK to the Moonstone Mask. I was just about to fetch some tea and pies for Syna here... will you be boarding with the others tonight? This lovely dragonborn gentlemen has covered the bill already!" Rising from her stool the cloaked lady gestures for Beetle to sit, turning back to Syna as she does so, "Redbrands.... can't say I've heard of them. We did have a gentleman from some small village to the south mention something about them a while back.... but I can't say we've had any problems here in the city. I have no doubt though that you'll keep them at bay though! Isn't that right my dears!"
Serak:
"Excellent my brother. Most excellent. Let us not waste any more time, the night is upon us." Clearly delighted, the whispering voice moves back towards the doorway, seemingly beckoning Serak to follow, "Head to the Broken Crown Inn within the hour. It'll be full of drunken sailors at this time but there will be a familiar face lurking in the dark. Just tell them Sylas sent you and they will ensure you are well looked after." Outside at the end of the street, a dog starts barking. Silence falls over the abandoned cottage, though Serak knows better than to feel alone. Clearly the conversation is over... but his brethren will still be watching.
Serak:
Eager to be free of the disquieting cottage, Serak simply nods his agreement and steps once again into the cool night air. Breathing a sigh of relief, the bard makes his way as cautiously as possible toward The Broken Crown Inn. He stays to alleys and the shadows whenever possible, looping and doubling back several times, while leaving himself enough time to make his meeting.
Perception: 17
Stealth: 21
"Not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien
Moonstone Mask:
Arkhan leans forward, "Yes please give my friend Beetle here anything he needs. We could use some of your best rooms if you don't mind. And before you leave, some more drink for me and I'm particularly famished, I've gone from being capture and tortured to slaying a dragon all within a day. Could you please fetch me whatever is the finest meat and bread you have. Be sure to let the chefs know its for me and let them know I appreciate their hard work." Arkhan slumps back in his chair and closes his eyes. "Thank you miss, remind me your name, I do appreciate your help."
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Arkhan, Beetle, Syna:
“Just hold on one sec and I’ll do just that Sir. Lerissa you call me, I’ll be back shortly.” With a bow and a nervous chuckle, the masked woman hurries back to the kitchens. In her haste she sends a colleague spinning backwards, her tray of drinks almost spilling over a table of drunken dwarves. For the time being the companions are alone.
Serak:
Following a winding trail towards the harbour, Serak almost loses himself in the narrow alleys of the Protectors Enclave. Convinced he is safe from being tailed, the bard finally heads back towards the river following its flow towards the ocean.
Neverwinter harbour is a simple affair. Once a flourishing port, it’s clear that the dock has seen better days. Old wooden ships of every size line the quay, some in better shape than others. Run down cabins and warehouses litter the boardwalk, all dark and devoid of life. In the distance, a set of windows blaze with light. Yells, laughter and loud drunken shanties echo through the air, growing louder with each of the bards silent steps. Outside a top heavy, burly sailor relieves himself into the sea.
Feigning confidence as he strides up to the doorway, Serak steps inside. The music stops abruptly. Every set of eyes is on him, a stranger in a tightly bound brotherhood of a very different kind. “OI! WHO ORDERED THE JESTER?!” A short fat captain at the bar bursts out laughing, streams of yellow ale leaking from his nose. Taking his queue, the singing dwarf in the corner resumes his shanty and the room bustles back into life.
Serak scans the room. Bright orange lanterns illuminate every inch of this stinking hole. Except for a single darkened corner where a lantern has been extinguished. Sat at a table covered in shadow, a young blonde woman. Serak recognises her instantly. The look of disgust on her otherwise beautiful face tells him that she has done the same. Halia Thornton. A sickening feeling swells in the bards stomach, burning at the back of his throat.
"How goes things here?" Beetle says to Syna and Arkhan, "Any interesting news or events, and thank you Arkhan for picking up the tab,I am starving."
Syna looks up from his tea, a relaxed look on his face, "Not very much. Rumors of Redbrands have not made their way here, so that is a dead end in our search for Gundren (after all this time Syna considers that Gundren is probably dead). I was just about to ask of any rumors of a Black Spider or if their is a historian or library where we might find information on Cragsmaw."
"ALWAYS GIVE A MONSTER AN EVEN BREAK!"
1st Edition DMG
"A wonderful idea Syna..." Beetle perks up.. "We might find an old map or record of it in the city library..."
Serak:
Swallowing back the lump in this throat, Serak does his best to appear unfazed by the unexpected appearance of his nemesis, Halia Thornton. At the sailor's joke, the bard replies, "Ho, my friend! This simple Skald would consider himself lucky to make the coin a true court jester earns!"
Serak decides a bit of petty revenge against his rival is in order, in the form of auditory bombardment. Walking up beside the singing dwarf, Serak cheerfully takes up the shanty alongside the sailors, dancing to the tune.
Preformance: 8
Finishing the song, the bard bows with a flourish before making his way toward Halia's table. He smiles slyly and says, "No need to ask what a girl like you is doing in a place like this..."
"Not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien
"Pleasure's mine. Anything you want just ask. I have a bit of a tab open here."
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Serak:
The laughter and singing in the small bar becomes deafeningly loud as Serak finishes his entertaining performance. The sailors stomp their feet in time, shaking the very foundations of the wooden building. As he spins away from the stage Halia rolls her eyes.
Without making eye contact, Halia snorts as the bard draws a stool. “I could ask you the same thing.... though it’s obviously not to entertain these men. I’d advise you to scram, I’m waiting for someone and they won’t be best pleased if you’re unpleasant odour is still hanging in the air.”