Upon Irma's gentle ministrations, the kenku is brought back to consciousness and stares up at his captors bleary-eyed. After some croaking and clicking, he suddenly speaks in a deep voice with an orcish accent, saying “Xanathar sends its regards.” After that he bobs his head a couple times, and then in a thin, nasally voice, "“Tie up the pretty boy in the back room!” and then “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” A few moments later it speaks again in a third, scratchy voice, saying “No time to loot the place. Just get him to the boss.”
Falshen, meanwhile, has unlocked the closet door. The cramped chamber beyond smells strongly of sour fish and vinegar, and is filled with discarded ropes, canvas tarpaulins, and splintered wood from smashed barrels. Amidst the jumble sits a bound and gagged man, his physical description answering to that of...well, of one of the two similar-looking young men you've been tasked with finding.
"Let's get that out of your mouth good sir," Irma moves to take the gag out of the bound man's mouth and will ask the man to confirm his identity. Depending on the interaction he may heal him for 1 HP as well.
Upon Irma's gentle ministrations, the kenku is brought back to consciousness and stares up at his captors bleary-eyed. After some croaking and clicking, he suddenly speaks in a deep voice with an orcish accent, saying “Xanathar sends its regards.” After that he bobs his head a couple times, and then in a thin, nasally voice, "“Tie up the pretty boy in the back room!” and then “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” A few moments later it speaks again in a third, scratchy voice, saying “No time to loot the place. Just get him to the boss.”
Falshen, meanwhile, has unlocked the closet door. The cramped chamber beyond smells strongly of sour fish and vinegar, and is filled with discarded ropes, canvas tarpaulins, and splintered wood from smashed barrels. Amidst the jumble sits a bound and gagged man, his physical description answering to that of...well, of one of the two similar-looking young men you've been tasked with finding.
"Let's get that out of your mouth good sir," Irma moves to take the gag out of the bound man's mouth and will ask the man to confirm his identity. Depending on the interaction he may heal him for 1 HP as well.
Gregor considers for a moment, then, looking the Kenku in the eyes, says slowly and carefully, "I am very sorry I attacked you all. I will do everything in my power to make amends for my assault. Yes. No. I know the answer. I know the answer, but I need different words. I do not know the answer. I cannot tell you. That hurts. That hurts a lot. Stop hurting me, I will tell you now. Now That you have hurt me, I will tell you."
He takes a breath, "Do I make myself clear... Crow?"
Upon Irma's gentle ministrations, the kenku is brought back to consciousness and stares up at his captors bleary-eyed. After some croaking and clicking, he suddenly speaks in a deep voice with an orcish accent, saying “Xanathar sends its regards.” After that he bobs his head a couple times, and then in a thin, nasally voice, "“Tie up the pretty boy in the back room!” and then “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” A few moments later it speaks again in a third, scratchy voice, saying “No time to loot the place. Just get him to the boss.”
Falshen, meanwhile, has unlocked the closet door. The cramped chamber beyond smells strongly of sour fish and vinegar, and is filled with discarded ropes, canvas tarpaulins, and splintered wood from smashed barrels. Amidst the jumble sits a bound and gagged man, his physical description answering to that of...well, of one of the two similar-looking young men you've been tasked with finding.
"Let's get that out of your mouth good sir," Irma moves to take the gag out of the bound man's mouth and will ask the man to confirm his identity. Depending on the interaction he may heal him for 1 HP as well.
"Renaer," he says. "Renaer Neverember. And who in the archdevil's name are you? Zhentarim? Xanathar's lackeys? Or some new species of hoodlum?"
Upon Irma's gentle ministrations, the kenku is brought back to consciousness and stares up at his captors bleary-eyed. After some croaking and clicking, he suddenly speaks in a deep voice with an orcish accent, saying “Xanathar sends its regards.” After that he bobs his head a couple times, and then in a thin, nasally voice, "“Tie up the pretty boy in the back room!” and then “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” A few moments later it speaks again in a third, scratchy voice, saying “No time to loot the place. Just get him to the boss.”
Falshen, meanwhile, has unlocked the closet door. The cramped chamber beyond smells strongly of sour fish and vinegar, and is filled with discarded ropes, canvas tarpaulins, and splintered wood from smashed barrels. Amidst the jumble sits a bound and gagged man, his physical description answering to that of...well, of one of the two similar-looking young men you've been tasked with finding.
"Let's get that out of your mouth good sir," Irma moves to take the gag out of the bound man's mouth and will ask the man to confirm his identity. Depending on the interaction he may heal him for 1 HP as well.
Gregor considers for a moment, then, looking the Kenku in the eyes, says slowly and carefully, "I am very sorry I attacked you all. I will do everything in my power to make amends for my assault. Yes. No. I know the answer. I know the answer, but I need different words. I do not know the answer. I cannot tell you. That hurts. That hurts a lot. Stop hurting me, I will tell you now. Now That you have hurt me, I will tell you."
He takes a breath, "Do I make myself clear... Crow?"
The kenku takes a breath, and repeats in a perfect imitation of Gregor's voice, "Very sorry. I make myself clear. Yes. I know the answer. I will tell you."
Upon Irma's gentle ministrations, the kenku is brought back to consciousness and stares up at his captors bleary-eyed. After some croaking and clicking, he suddenly speaks in a deep voice with an orcish accent, saying “Xanathar sends its regards.” After that he bobs his head a couple times, and then in a thin, nasally voice, "“Tie up the pretty boy in the back room!” and then “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” A few moments later it speaks again in a third, scratchy voice, saying “No time to loot the place. Just get him to the boss.”
Falshen, meanwhile, has unlocked the closet door. The cramped chamber beyond smells strongly of sour fish and vinegar, and is filled with discarded ropes, canvas tarpaulins, and splintered wood from smashed barrels. Amidst the jumble sits a bound and gagged man, his physical description answering to that of...well, of one of the two similar-looking young men you've been tasked with finding.
"Let's get that out of your mouth good sir," Irma moves to take the gag out of the bound man's mouth and will ask the man to confirm his identity. Depending on the interaction he may heal him for 1 HP as well.
Gregor considers for a moment, then, looking the Kenku in the eyes, says slowly and carefully, "I am very sorry I attacked you all. I will do everything in my power to make amends for my assault. Yes. No. I know the answer. I know the answer, but I need different words. I do not know the answer. I cannot tell you. That hurts. That hurts a lot. Stop hurting me, I will tell you now. Now That you have hurt me, I will tell you."
He takes a breath, "Do I make myself clear... Crow?"
The kenku takes a breath, and repeats in a perfect imitation of Gregor's voice, "Very sorry. I make myself clear. Yes. I know the answer. I will tell you."
Irma lumbers over and cradles his hammer in his hand. “Well then let’s hear it,” he says with a slight smile looking at the Kenku. Depending on the answer Irma will attempt to persuade the kenku if the kenku needs another concussion to be more helpful to the party.
"Renaer," he says. "Renaer Neverember. And who in the archdevil's name are you? Zhentarim? Xanathar's lackeys? Or some new species of hoodlum?"
His eyes lock on Falshen.
"You, sir. I know your face. Have we met?"
With a slight but formal incline of his head, Falshen addresses the young lord, "Indeed we have but," here, Falshen glances over his shoulder, taking in Gregor's actions and conversation, "I think we might renew our acquaintance at a more appropriate time. This places has ears and a talent for mimicry, unless I miss my guess. In brief, we are looking for your lookalike, Floon. If we understand events correctly, you two were kidnapped together, taken here, and later separated when your former captors were killed by what I surmise to be Xanathar agents." Here, again, Falshen glances at the bound Kenku. "What might help to know is: why were you kidnapped in the first place?"
"Renaer," he says. "Renaer Neverember. And who in the archdevil's name are you? Zhentarim? Xanathar's lackeys? Or some new species of hoodlum?"
His eyes lock on Falshen.
"You, sir. I know your face. Have we met?"
With a slight but formal incline of his head, Falshen addresses the young lord, "Indeed we have but," here, Falshen glances over his shoulder, taking in Gregor's actions and conversation, "I think we might renew our acquaintance at a more appropriate time. This places has ears and a talent for mimicry, unless I miss my guess. In brief, we are looking for your lookalike, Floon. If we understand events correctly, you two were kidnapped together, taken here, and later separated when your former captors were killed by what I surmise to be Xanathar agents." Here, again, Falshen glances at the bound Kenku. "What might help to know is: why were you kidnapped in the first place?"
"As you say, sir," Renaer responds, tilting his head toward the kenku, and letting his eyes travel across each of the companions in turn, "this might be an inopportune time for discussing sensitive matters. Suffice to say, the gentlemen who owned this distinguished establishment believed - mistakenly - that I know the location of something they seek. It appears their competitors believed the same, and thus the resulting unpleasantness. I'm sorry to see that Floon has yet again played the part of my unwilling dead ringer. I only hope he's not quite dead yet, poor old fish. If you loose my bonds - and for Chauntea's sake, give me something to eat - I will do what I can to help you find him."
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Unfortunately, my particular set of contacts ends where the Xanathar Guild's begins," Gregor answers, the scorn in his voice indicating that, from his perspective, this is no very bad thing, "Crow, have you worked for the guild previously?"
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Unfortunately, my particular set of contacts ends where the Xanathar Guild's begins," Gregor answers, the scorn in his voice indicating that, from his perspective, this is no very bad thing, "Crow, have you worked for the guild previously?"
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Unfortunately, my particular set of contacts ends where the Xanathar Guild's begins," Gregor answers, the scorn in his voice indicating that, from his perspective, this is no very bad thing, "Crow, have you worked for the guild previously?"
"Yes."
"Excellent, then we can probably assume they weren't planning to kill you when you went to collect payment. You will go back to them, and you will take us with you. You will get your payment, and if all goes well we may have a more permanent position open for you when this unpleasantness has ended." Gregor pauses, "How much DID the Guild promise you?"
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Unfortunately, my particular set of contacts ends where the Xanathar Guild's begins," Gregor answers, the scorn in his voice indicating that, from his perspective, this is no very bad thing, "Crow, have you worked for the guild previously?"
"Yes."
"Excellent, then we can probably assume they weren't planning to kill you when you went to collect payment. You will go back to them, and you will take us with you. You will get your payment, and if all goes well we may have a more permanent position open for you when this unpleasantness has ended." Gregor pauses, "How much DID the Guild promise you?"
The kenku replies in the orcish voice. "Five shards for the job, and a dragon for every Zhent you bag. Ten dragons for the first lad that lays hands on Neverember."
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Unfortunately, my particular set of contacts ends where the Xanathar Guild's begins," Gregor answers, the scorn in his voice indicating that, from his perspective, this is no very bad thing, "Crow, have you worked for the guild previously?"
"Yes."
"Excellent, then we can probably assume they weren't planning to kill you when you went to collect payment. You will go back to them, and you will take us with you. You will get your payment, and if all goes well we may have a more permanent position open for you when this unpleasantness has ended." Gregor pauses, "How much DID the Guild promise you?"
The kenku replies in the orcish voice. "Five shards for the job, and a dragon for every Zhent you bag. Ten dragons for the first lad that lays hands on Neverember."
"Interesting. One moment if you please." Gregor walks away and motions for the group to join him out of earshot, "Let me know if this sounds too risky, but I think we might be able to turn this unfortunate situation profitable. I might possibly be able to disguise myself as the Kenku's dead friend. What if we 'deliver' a number of dead Zhents," he gestures to the other members of the group, "to the meeting ground? It provides a method of infiltration, and is a path to at least one potential source of information. Said source of information might also be carrying coin."
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Unfortunately, my particular set of contacts ends where the Xanathar Guild's begins," Gregor answers, the scorn in his voice indicating that, from his perspective, this is no very bad thing, "Crow, have you worked for the guild previously?"
"Yes."
"Excellent, then we can probably assume they weren't planning to kill you when you went to collect payment. You will go back to them, and you will take us with you. You will get your payment, and if all goes well we may have a more permanent position open for you when this unpleasantness has ended." Gregor pauses, "How much DID the Guild promise you?"
The kenku replies in the orcish voice. "Five shards for the job, and a dragon for every Zhent you bag. Ten dragons for the first lad that lays hands on Neverember."
"Interesting. One moment if you please." Gregor walks away and motions for the group to join him out of earshot, "Let me know if this sounds too risky, but I think we might be able to turn this unfortunate situation profitable. I might possibly be able to disguise myself as the Kenku's dead friend. What if we 'deliver' a number of dead Zhents," he gestures to the other members of the group, "to the meeting ground? It provides a method of infiltration, and is a path to at least one potential source of information. Said source of information might also be carrying coin."
Irma speaks “That’s a bold plan and I like it, let’s have some in the group hidden/sneaking while we do so. Don’t want to show all our cards.”
Ian, considering the ploy, whispers conspiratorially,
”I think this is an interesting plan. What leverage do we have over the kenku that prevents him from immediately blowing your cover? Also, a physical or magical disguise is one thing, but to imitate a kenku’s vocal skill is another. It’s not approximation, but rather perfect imitation that concerns me.”
Ian, considering the ploy, whispers conspiratorially,
”I think this is an interesting plan. What leverage do we have over the kenku that prevents him from immediately blowing your cover? Also, a physical or magical disguise is one thing, but to imitate a kenku’s vocal skill is another. It’s not approximation, but rather perfect imitation that concerns me.”
Gregor shrugs, "Knife at his ribs for now, promise of steady, less dangerous work for much better pay moving forward. It's a gamble, but if you have anything that might sweeten the deal please do share. The bird could be a valuable long term resource, which I'd cultivate if I could. As for imitation, I don't plan on doing much talking myself, but if I do... the Kenku's own skill at mimicry could work against the guild here. It's reasonable that they would have heard someone like me before now, especially if I phrase things not quite correctly for the questions asked."
"Let's get that out of your mouth good sir," Irma moves to take the gag out of the bound man's mouth and will ask the man to confirm his identity. Depending on the interaction he may heal him for 1 HP as well.
Gregor considers for a moment, then, looking the Kenku in the eyes, says slowly and carefully, "I am very sorry I attacked you all. I will do everything in my power to make amends for my assault. Yes. No. I know the answer. I know the answer, but I need different words. I do not know the answer. I cannot tell you. That hurts. That hurts a lot. Stop hurting me, I will tell you now. Now That you have hurt me, I will tell you."
He takes a breath, "Do I make myself clear... Crow?"
"Renaer," he says. "Renaer Neverember. And who in the archdevil's name are you? Zhentarim? Xanathar's lackeys? Or some new species of hoodlum?"
His eyes lock on Falshen.
"You, sir. I know your face. Have we met?"
The kenku takes a breath, and repeats in a perfect imitation of Gregor's voice, "Very sorry. I make myself clear. Yes. I know the answer. I will tell you."
Irma lumbers over and cradles his hammer in his hand. “Well then let’s hear it,” he says with a slight smile looking at the Kenku. Depending on the answer Irma will attempt to persuade the kenku if the kenku needs another concussion to be more helpful to the party.
With a slight but formal incline of his head, Falshen addresses the young lord, "Indeed we have but," here, Falshen glances over his shoulder, taking in Gregor's actions and conversation, "I think we might renew our acquaintance at a more appropriate time. This places has ears and a talent for mimicry, unless I miss my guess. In brief, we are looking for your lookalike, Floon. If we understand events correctly, you two were kidnapped together, taken here, and later separated when your former captors were killed by what I surmise to be Xanathar agents." Here, again, Falshen glances at the bound Kenku. "What might help to know is: why were you kidnapped in the first place?"
"As you say, sir," Renaer responds, tilting his head toward the kenku, and letting his eyes travel across each of the companions in turn, "this might be an inopportune time for discussing sensitive matters. Suffice to say, the gentlemen who owned this distinguished establishment believed - mistakenly - that I know the location of something they seek. It appears their competitors believed the same, and thus the resulting unpleasantness. I'm sorry to see that Floon has yet again played the part of my unwilling dead ringer. I only hope he's not quite dead yet, poor old fish. If you loose my bonds - and for Chauntea's sake, give me something to eat - I will do what I can to help you find him."
"Where is the other man?" Gregor asks the Kenku, "Where were you instructed to take him?"
The kenku repeats in the same nasally voice as before: “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers.” He cocks his head and blinks rapidly, and then his voice changes to the orcish accent. "My place. Fast. Down The Honorable Knight's own pisspot. You know the way."
“Hmmm interesting, looks like we have our first clue. Do we know of an information broker or a someone used to working with these mercenaries?” Irma ponders aloud to the group.
"Unfortunately, my particular set of contacts ends where the Xanathar Guild's begins," Gregor answers, the scorn in his voice indicating that, from his perspective, this is no very bad thing, "Crow, have you worked for the guild previously?"
"Yes."
"Excellent, then we can probably assume they weren't planning to kill you when you went to collect payment. You will go back to them, and you will take us with you. You will get your payment, and if all goes well we may have a more permanent position open for you when this unpleasantness has ended." Gregor pauses, "How much DID the Guild promise you?"
The kenku replies in the orcish voice. "Five shards for the job, and a dragon for every Zhent you bag. Ten dragons for the first lad that lays hands on Neverember."
"Interesting. One moment if you please." Gregor walks away and motions for the group to join him out of earshot, "Let me know if this sounds too risky, but I think we might be able to turn this unfortunate situation profitable. I might possibly be able to disguise myself as the Kenku's dead friend. What if we 'deliver' a number of dead Zhents," he gestures to the other members of the group, "to the meeting ground? It provides a method of infiltration, and is a path to at least one potential source of information. Said source of information might also be carrying coin."
Irma speaks “That’s a bold plan and I like it, let’s have some in the group hidden/sneaking while we do so. Don’t want to show all our cards.”
Ian, considering the ploy, whispers conspiratorially,
”I think this is an interesting plan. What leverage do we have over the kenku that prevents him from immediately blowing your cover? Also, a physical or magical disguise is one thing, but to imitate a kenku’s vocal skill is another. It’s not approximation, but rather perfect imitation that concerns me.”
Gregor shrugs, "Knife at his ribs for now, promise of steady, less dangerous work for much better pay moving forward. It's a gamble, but if you have anything that might sweeten the deal please do share. The bird could be a valuable long term resource, which I'd cultivate if I could. As for imitation, I don't plan on doing much talking myself, but if I do... the Kenku's own skill at mimicry could work against the guild here. It's reasonable that they would have heard someone like me before now, especially if I phrase things not quite correctly for the questions asked."
From, the closet, the group hears the voice of Renaer Naverember:
"Pardon me gentlemen, I apologize if I'm intruding on a private discussion, but perhaps somebody could cut my bonds?"
[You're far enough away that he probably can't hear exactly what you're saying and can't see you, but could tell that you're speaking nearby.]
"Damnation," Gregor says, shaking his head. Walking over to Renaer, he attempts to untie him. "Apologies, my lord."