Irma leans forward in his chair, “Would there be any person who would wish to make sure your friend doesn’t make it home? Business rivals, disgruntled noblemen, jealous lovers?”
"What?" splutters Volo, nearly spilling his refilled beverage. "Of course not! Floon is a fine, upstanding young man of unimpeachable reputation! An adornment of the high life of Waterdeep. Beloved, sir, beloved! No, I'm quite certain he has been abducted by some desperate band of bullyblades hoping to extort a ransom from his affectionate friends."
Bonnie plops a plate of honeycakes on the table in front of Volothamp, and he seizes one and takes an enormous bite, brushing the crumbs from his collar.
Akai mulls over Volo's words before voicing his thoughts.
"Hrm, hm... Akai had not considered 'hero-work' for spreading his name, but hero's glory is still glory. Very well!" He thumps one clawed fist on the table in emphasis. "Volo's friend will return safe and whole, and the 'bullyblades' will spread word of the fury and arcane might of Akai!"
Finishing his wine, Falshen gazes about the room for a moment before returning his attention to Volo. In an amicable tone, he addresses the author, "I'm always game for a good investigation. But I must point out that the only lead to which you've thus far alluded sounds a dead end; people at the Skewered Dragon say master Blagmaar left shortly after you. Has a demand for ransom been made of you? Or any of Blagmaar's friends, to your knowledge?" His tone, though still maintaining a friendly quality, sharpens with an air of aprofessional getting down to business, "Failing that, have you any other leads for us? Can you show us where he lives, works, or otherwise spends his time?"
“Well, ah, in truth, no demands as such. No, no haven’t heard a thing. I suppose one imagines…” he waves a hand vaguely. Then his face brightens, and he snaps his fingers. “You know, I did hear something else. When Floon left the tavern, it was in company with Renaer - Renaer Neverember, old Dagult’s son of course. Offered to walk Floon home, I believe. Decent chap, I’ve always said so, no matter how people talk about him. Anyway, I went around to his place - Neverember house, you know - to ask about young Blagmaar, but was told Renaer was out. Haven’t been able to pin the fellow down these past two days. Dashed inconvenient.”
He frowns, a honeycake halfway to his lips.
“I say, you don’t suppose he’s missing too?”
Obviously troubled by this sudden flash of insight, the distraught chronicler pops the entire cake into his mouth and chews thoughtfully.
Even the most socially unaware characters would know one fact - Dagult Neverember was the former Open Lord of Waterdeep.
His look having gone momentarily distant, Falshen shakes his head slightly before glancing about at his assembled companions. "I think... it would not be surprising, no. Hhmm..." Falshen leans back and appears to consider something for a few moments. Looking back to Volo, he continues, "Have you any location in which we" his gesture indicates the entire table, Volo included, "may meet privately, should discretion become a necessity?"
Washing down his last mouthful, Volothamp tugs his beard and snuffles contemplatively.
"Why," he says, "this very inn has more discrete accommodations upstairs, for meetings and private parties and so forth. I'm sure our good Durnan could assist us in that regard if necessary. Do you, uh, do you believe this matter could be...potentially scandalous?"
Volo ends this last question in a hushed and dramatically somber tone, but his eye takes on an eager gleam.
Gregor nods, "I would be happy to assist. Before we start the search, and I believe that The Skewered Dragon is an excellent place to begin, I would like to confirm: what was Floon wearing last? What does he look like? Does he carry anything unique on his person?"
“Hmmm,” Volo pauses and caresses his temples. “How to describe the inimitable Floon? Well, in sadly pedestrian terms, he is of medium height, trim, red-blond hair, green eyes, in his early thirties. Wearing, when I saw him last, a...a blue coat, gold trim, white cravat,” the scholar’s hands pat about his person as he remembers each article, “tan vest and trousers. He carries a black cane, the handle a head of a bronze dragon, and a gilded dwarven timepiece on a chain. And most importantly!” Volo stabs the air with a finger. “He carries about him an air of grace and sophistication. By this, more than by any mere accessory, is a gentleman known.”
Ian nods in assent to his fellow detectives, “I think we have enough to go on for now. I also agree to the terms of the job. If we need more from our esteemed client, we know where to find him.” Ian turns to Volo, Unless, Master Volo, you plan on doing more research and become incommunicado? I hope that the adventure and potential for... interesting developments will keep your attention and person local.”
"But of course!" Volo says with a flourish of his mug. "In fact, I find the atmosphere at the Yawning Portal particularly conducive to thought and composition, especially this time of year. I may be found here - well, frankly, most hours of the day - and if not, Durnan can be sure a message gets to me. You have my most heartfelt gratitude, my dear..." he trails off, looking around at each of you before bursting out laughing. "Why, I don't believe I caught your names! And whom do I have the pleasure of employing?"
"An honor indeed!" Volo beams beatifically and claps his hands. "As likely a band of bravos as ever graced the streets of Waterdeep. Gentlemen, you have my thanks, and my utmost confidence. Please, allow me to cover your tab."
He waves to Durnan, who nods curtly.
"And now..." Volo turns back to face the table - and then his eyes go wide. "And now," he continues with barely a catch in his voice, "I must bid you be valiant!"
Irma leans forward in his chair, “Would there be any person who would wish to make sure your friend doesn’t make it home? Business rivals, disgruntled noblemen, jealous lovers?”
"What?" splutters Volo, nearly spilling his refilled beverage. "Of course not! Floon is a fine, upstanding young man of unimpeachable reputation! An adornment of the high life of Waterdeep. Beloved, sir, beloved! No, I'm quite certain he has been abducted by some desperate band of bullyblades hoping to extort a ransom from his affectionate friends."
Bonnie plops a plate of honeycakes on the table in front of Volothamp, and he seizes one and takes an enormous bite, brushing the crumbs from his collar.
“A mystery case then, well as a law upholding paladin I can’t turn down someone in need. Count me in”
Akai mulls over Volo's words before voicing his thoughts.
"Hrm, hm... Akai had not considered 'hero-work' for spreading his name, but hero's glory is still glory. Very well!" He thumps one clawed fist on the table in emphasis. "Volo's friend will return safe and whole, and the 'bullyblades' will spread word of the fury and arcane might of Akai!"
Finishing his wine, Falshen gazes about the room for a moment before returning his attention to Volo. In an amicable tone, he addresses the author, "I'm always game for a good investigation. But I must point out that the only lead to which you've thus far alluded sounds a dead end; people at the Skewered Dragon say master Blagmaar left shortly after you. Has a demand for ransom been made of you? Or any of Blagmaar's friends, to your knowledge?" His tone, though still maintaining a friendly quality, sharpens with an air of aprofessional getting down to business, "Failing that, have you any other leads for us? Can you show us where he lives, works, or otherwise spends his time?"
Volothamp blinks.
“Well, ah, in truth, no demands as such. No, no haven’t heard a thing. I suppose one imagines…” he waves a hand vaguely. Then his face brightens, and he snaps his fingers. “You know, I did hear something else. When Floon left the tavern, it was in company with Renaer - Renaer Neverember, old Dagult’s son of course. Offered to walk Floon home, I believe. Decent chap, I’ve always said so, no matter how people talk about him. Anyway, I went around to his place - Neverember house, you know - to ask about young Blagmaar, but was told Renaer was out. Haven’t been able to pin the fellow down these past two days. Dashed inconvenient.”
He frowns, a honeycake halfway to his lips.
“I say, you don’t suppose he’s missing too?”
Obviously troubled by this sudden flash of insight, the distraught chronicler pops the entire cake into his mouth and chews thoughtfully.
Even the most socially unaware characters would know one fact - Dagult Neverember was the former Open Lord of Waterdeep.
His look having gone momentarily distant, Falshen shakes his head slightly before glancing about at his assembled companions. "I think... it would not be surprising, no. Hhmm..." Falshen leans back and appears to consider something for a few moments. Looking back to Volo, he continues, "Have you any location in which we" his gesture indicates the entire table, Volo included, "may meet privately, should discretion become a necessity?"
Washing down his last mouthful, Volothamp tugs his beard and snuffles contemplatively.
"Why," he says, "this very inn has more discrete accommodations upstairs, for meetings and private parties and so forth. I'm sure our good Durnan could assist us in that regard if necessary. Do you, uh, do you believe this matter could be...potentially scandalous?"
Volo ends this last question in a hushed and dramatically somber tone, but his eye takes on an eager gleam.
Falshen smiles disarmingly, "When nobles are involved?" His gives the briefest of winks, "Who can say?"
Shifting to take in his companions who have yet to voice ascent, Falshen asks, "What say you? Shall we band together and aid the good master Geddarm?"
Gregor nods, "I would be happy to assist. Before we start the search, and I believe that The Skewered Dragon is an excellent place to begin, I would like to confirm: what was Floon wearing last? What does he look like? Does he carry anything unique on his person?"
“Hmmm,” Volo pauses and caresses his temples. “How to describe the inimitable Floon? Well, in sadly pedestrian terms, he is of medium height, trim, red-blond hair, green eyes, in his early thirties. Wearing, when I saw him last, a...a blue coat, gold trim, white cravat,” the scholar’s hands pat about his person as he remembers each article, “tan vest and trousers. He carries a black cane, the handle a head of a bronze dragon, and a gilded dwarven timepiece on a chain. And most importantly!” Volo stabs the air with a finger. “He carries about him an air of grace and sophistication. By this, more than by any mere accessory, is a gentleman known.”
Ian nods in assent to his fellow detectives, “I think we have enough to go on for now. I also agree to the terms of the job. If we need more from our esteemed client, we know where to find him.” Ian turns to Volo, Unless, Master Volo, you plan on doing more research and become incommunicado? I hope that the adventure and potential for... interesting developments will keep your attention and person local.”
"But of course!" Volo says with a flourish of his mug. "In fact, I find the atmosphere at the Yawning Portal particularly conducive to thought and composition, especially this time of year. I may be found here - well, frankly, most hours of the day - and if not, Durnan can be sure a message gets to me. You have my most heartfelt gratitude, my dear..." he trails off, looking around at each of you before bursting out laughing. "Why, I don't believe I caught your names! And whom do I have the pleasure of employing?"
Ian grins and says, “Ian. Ian Nito. At your service.”
With a slight incline of his head evoking a bow, Falshen replies, "Falshen Brightblade, scion of house Margaster."
“Irma, Irma Gerd.” You have my hammer
Gregor nods to Volo, "Gregor Horsa. It is an honor to serve you, Master Geddarm."
Akai pipes in, "You speak to Akai, highborn kobold of dragon's blood! It is great honor for you to receive his aid!"
"An honor indeed!" Volo beams beatifically and claps his hands. "As likely a band of bravos as ever graced the streets of Waterdeep. Gentlemen, you have my thanks, and my utmost confidence. Please, allow me to cover your tab."
He waves to Durnan, who nods curtly.
"And now..." Volo turns back to face the table - and then his eyes go wide. "And now," he continues with barely a catch in his voice, "I must bid you be valiant!"
And with that he dives under the table.
Somebody in the room shouts "Troll!"
Initiative:
Akai: 23
Falshen: 11
Gregor: 12
Ian: 6
Irma: 6