Crimson Sands of Time

Cryptic Gravity

Gravity exchanges a look of bewilderment with the easy-going vendor before realizing the fact that she just made the second best decision of her life by not going farther inside the temple. "Hmmph, that was really an enjoyable treat since the last one I devoured tasted like a rotten piece of sponge. Thanks for the cupcake and..." She pauses momentarily to send a cautious look at the Gate of Good Fortune ".. and the information. How much do I need to pay for the cupcake?"

Assuming that Gravity completes the payment procedure, she will flash an amicable smile at the woman that reaches her eyes and make her look younger than her age, she's not yet a fully grown woman and it might take her more time to grasp the true meaning of 'adulting'. She then dashes towards the direction of the Windsnug Hearth... her matte orange length of frizzy hair bouncing repeatedly while the metallic tools stored in her backpack or pockets make clanking noise.

Gravity's cupcake is 2gp.  It is a luxury good sold to tourists.

Angus finds an elf wearing a brewer's apron and gloves.  He holds a flask of amber liquid to a lantern and swirls it, inspecting it closely through thick spectacles, held to uis face by a leather strap.  He then pours the contents of the flask into a large iron pot.  Noticing Angus watching, he smiles as he greets him "Oh, hello.  How are you? I haven't had a visitor in a while, but if you'd like to see how I brew Mulmaster's finest potable, you're more than welcome.  I was just about to hop the brew.  My own strain of hops.  Just one if the many herbs we used ro tend in our gardens.  Harder to keep it alive in these cool climbs, nowadays, but I have my methods."

<Sorry to cut the roleplay short, but I think we should move this bit quickly as we have a new PC waiting in the wings>

(Assuming Angus asks the monks something about the monastery, he tells Angus the following:)

"The Ilmateri were beloved by the poor, butbthe Nobles never took a shine to us.  I know we're known for being chronic martyrs,  but we really were persecuted in Mulmaster, all rhe way up until about a century ago, amid the Time of Troubles, the High Blade ordered rhe sacking of the Monastery.  It was converted to the Thayan Embassy shot thereafter, but only since the cataclysmic events and subsequent Thayan occupation did rhey start to make changes to the structure.  I haven't been inside, myself, but I can see they've been modifying the structure recently tly, and I've heard things from my occasional visitors. That barbican over the gate is new."

(RP opportunity.  Plus roll a charisma check)

@Brian_Avery not sure (apologies) what, if any, NPCs you're near right now, but any friendly NPC will do.  Ussa would work well.

1. "Not sure the Breeze will be mixh help.  They want plausible deniability if things go south, but you can always try."

2. "Morwena might be able to help with that.  She's in hiding but csn be contacted by the tailor should you wish to summon her."

3. "Not sure who the Ambassador would want to see, but most Nobles could have a plausible reason.  Suppose thst would entail a disguise of some kind, and of course, a very convincing story. Also means trying during business hours.  Whayever you decide to do, we have to act by tomorrow, or we'll lose our chance at whatver it is the courier brought."

Angus Persuasion 25

"When they sacked the monastery, how did they get past your defenses? Was it just a frontal assault?  And how were you able to escape amidst all the fighting?"

(If the monk reveals anything, Angus will leave it at that.  If not, he will share his identity as a Knight of Myth Drannor with the monk, and confide in him that he is searching for a way to enter the embassy unobserved, for a righteous cause).

The monk seems confused and disturbed. "Defenses? We are simple monks, martyrs for the poor. Most of the city loved us.  Our fortifications primarily consisted of sturdy fences and gates to keep the donkeys from wandering off." His expression changes, souring a bit. "You're not interested in the beer are you?  Well, a bunch of monks are no match for the best armed city on the Moonsea.  Even if we could have put up a fight, it's not whay Ilmater would want.  Would Ilmater will me to msrtyr myself on thst day? There isn't a day thsts passed in nigh a century I haven't thought of it.  In truth, I hid in the catacombs for three days.  Its a bit of a labyrinth and nobody was really eager to poke around for down there anyhow.  Of course there's no way out without emerging, so I had to bide my time and when I saw my chance, I fled.  Times change, tempers cool.  The trouble kes passed.  The Nobles had nothing to fear of our ministrations any longer, so they just forgot about us.  'A new day, a new enemy' as they say.  Thr people, they never stopped caring about us, Nd we never ceased to csre for them.  Some tend shrines, others, libraries.  Some are apothecaries and yet more lighthouse keepers.  Our numbers are few and dwindling still, but the spirit of Ilmater, of service, lives on in the city.  When I think of this, I believe I made the right choice that day."  Lost in though, as if seeing a distant memory in his mind, the monk makes eye contact with Angus again and holds aloft an outstretched index finger.  "Just a moment," he says as he turns to wall toward a cabinet, and removes carefully from a drawer a long scroll, which he unfurl on the table before him.  He rolls it back up and turns back to Angus, with just the fsint hint of a smile and the hint if a tear in his cloudy eyes, he hands it to the paladin.  "Ive kept thjs safe for many years.  I think I've been holding on to it for you, sir Knight."  It is not at all clear how the monk would know that Angus is a Knight, dressed as he is at the moment, nor a trustworthy one, but the old elf just slowly nods an expression of understanding.  "Best not to dawdle, then.  I'm sure you've got more sight to see in the city of towers.  "Today us the first day if what's left of your life.  So, live it well."

It appears to be a rough sketch of the catacombs beneath the monastery, now embassy,  the old monk described.

Quote from InkedBee >>

Cryptic Gravity

... She then dashes towards the direction of the Windsnug Hearth... her matte orange length of frizzy hair bouncing repeatedly while the metallic tools stored in her backpack or pockets make clanking noise.

As Angus returns to the main level of the inn, through gaps in the boards placed over the broken window, he hears the sound of growls and snarls, a whimper and a whine, then a crescendo of growls and howls.

"Ahhh, I bet it's that lass again.  I dunno what she's on about with the local wildlife, but I reckon she won't be makin' the same mistake again." says the bartender as he moves ro look out another, intact window.

When Angus looks out onto the street. He sees a gentle snow has begun to fall, the overcast sky darkening the not-yet setting sun.  Following a trail if blood and manybsets if pawprints, he sees a glimpse of a pack of wolves, all with thick black fur, pulling something among themselves in the distance, toward rhe city wall separating Mulmaster from the Earthspur Mountains, he recognizes her.  The shock of frizzy copper strands, drawn out on the snow, as her head passes by a dropped wrench from her toolbelt: Angus watches in horror as the wolves drag away the lifeless form of Crypric Gravity.

Angus reassures the monk that the beer itself was quite worthy of the visit, apart from the information.  He then thanks him profusely for the map, which he carefully folds and tucks inside his pack.

Heading upstairs, he is drawn to the commotion outside, and seeing his friend being dragged through the street, he sprints out of the inn yelling Gravity's name, sword drawn, in full pursuit of the pack.

The shadows of the mountains grow long over the south wall.  As the snowfall grows heavier and the sky darkens, the wolves move into the shadows where an old warehouse and a newly rebuilt stable meet.  The horses, if indeed there are any in the newly built stables, make no sound.  As Angus approaches the spot where he lasts saw the wolves, he notes the tracks stop right at the wall of the warehouse, as if the wolves simply phased through the exterior of the building.  Upon inspection, Angus is pretty certain that among all the pawprints and the trail made by gravity's body dragging through the snow, at least one, or maybe more, bare humanoid footprints are impressed into the powder.

🐾🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾 👣  🐾 🐾 🐾 🐾 👣 🐾 🐾 🐾

(Is there any blood in the snow where the body was dragged?)

The paladin will reach out to the wall to investigate whether it might be an illusion.  If not, he will check for a secret door.  Using his sending stone, he will inform the others of Gravity's capture and possible death.  He will also inform them of his location. If he has not yet gained access to the building, he will circle around looking for alternate entrances.

Investigation 10

There is blood.  Looks like at least one wolf. Maybe more were harmed in the scuffle.  The body trailed blood as well.

Finding no concealed entrance in the wall where the trail ends, Angus wanders to tbe front of the building, finding large double doors barred and lo ked with a heavy iron chain.

"Where's a damned rogue when you need one?" Angus mutters, wondering what his friend Tabaqui is up to right now.  He will begin to smite the lock with his enchanted longsword, while hoping his other companions will respond to the call for help he sent.

longsword first Attack: 29 Damage: 21 magical slashing

longsword second Attack: 26 Damage: 11 magical slashing

Angus breaks the lock, the chain falls to the ground. The door remains barred, a sturdy wooden board held in place by two supports on each door preventing them from swinging outward.  It can be lifted away and set aside to open the doors.

(Str (athletics) DC would make sense, but I think it's below (your Str score (18) x 30 (p.176)) lbs. So, you can just lift it if you choose.

If Angus does open the door:

Angus opens the door and enters cautiously, sword drawn. He will poke at the clothing, making sure nothing is hid under the piles.  He will go to the section of interior wall that would correspond to where the footprints outside had seemingly entered.  Is there any blood or tracks in that area of the warehouse?  Any trapdoors hidden under the rushes?  If all else is unfruitful, he will turn to the chests, inspecting them visually for locks and traps.

Investigation 17

The clothes are simply piled, but the stains appear to be a mix of filth and blood.  There is nothing but the floorboards beneath the rushes.   The three chests all look of a similar design, but distinct.  The left one is tiny, but the other two are of similar size.  Each has a hasp, but no lock. The smallest chest and one other have rounded lids, the third, in the center, has a flat top.  All appear to be constructed of the same hardwood, possibly oak, trimmed along the edges with brass.

<the group is on the other side of the city, even with the sending stones and their immediate departure, it takes about an hour on foot.>

<added First (Ground) Floor and Basement maps to the campaign notes for convenience>

(No blood or footprints at the point of entry?)

Using the point of his sword, Angus will gingerly flip the hasp of the leftmost chest.  Then, perhaps foolishly, he will kick open the lid.

Yep, it’s me. I bet you’re wondering how I got here…

It was midnight when I finally moved in, though I’d been watching the place for a while. There were many different ways to infiltrate a place like this, an embassy of a magocracy, and I chose one of the hardest. Probably should have established an identity, earn their trust and become an insider, but no time for that. A magical disguise would probably do the trick, but I decided against it. Maybe I’m just prone to self-sabotage. The maps helped, though, and I always had my family’s specialty to call upon. Better be careful with that, though. Someone might recognize the red eyes… Of course, there were guards, wards and alarms, as well as simple mechanical locks, but I had my ways. The guards saw and heard nothing. I could clearly see the wards which made it easy to avoid them. And the locks… I’d been dealing with such for years.

This had better be worth all the magic I was burning.

Well, I got what I came here for, the intel that was so important they’d send me after it (ever thought of using the disguise spell to record text as an illusion on your body? Much faster than copying it, and I certainly wasn't about to walk out with the original), and even the stuff the Breeze asked me to get, and was about to head out. Imagine my surprise when the door opened and a bunch of people barge in. For a moment I thought I tripped an alarm of some kind, always a possibility, but they seemed just as surprised to see me. 

The worst part was, all I could think of to say was, "Do you come here often?" Mortifying.