Aracynth eyed the Elf skeptically. Plots of assassination and betrayal, while intriguing, always bothered him for their necessity of subterfuge and deceit. He then spoke to answer Tharin's question.

"Ibben.." he thought solemnly, swirling the dregs of his brandy. "In truth, I wander on my own mission of sorts. By the Grace of Bahamut I've been told of a Great Calamity rising. I've been charged with Divine authority, to pursue the setting sun, and stand against all darkness and evil I should find there. The boat was tossed to and fro as I travelled across the Sea of Tears, nearly loosing all my innards o'erboard time and again. Yet, for two and a half moons I watched each evening as the sun would set behind Goldenrock Castle. The signs could not have been more plain. So I made haste from the docks to join a Caravan from the South roads, and found my way here to Ibben, where I am now presented an opportunity of sorts. I will pray for guidance on the matter tonight, but assisting those in need greatly pleases my diety." Aracynth finished his drink before signalling to Rod for a second.

"I only have one request from you my friends, before we should travel too far afield. Fizzbang, you have a notoriety and infamy about you, which stands as tall above you as anyone here. I would ask that you work honestly and earnestly to repay what you have borrowed on the good faith of others. It is clear to me even now that your path of redemption would begin thus." The Dragonborn caught the Gnome's gaze to see how he would react.

"Fizzbang has already told us that there are no crimes to his name.  His lawfulness is only evident by the bravery shown in the coliseum and the conviction in his voice.  He is worthy of my trust and should be worthy of yours!  These slanderous mutterings must be a part of the grip of the Clock Tower gang to discredit honest, upstanding citizens and enforce their rule of the shadows."

"As I bring about the drinks I can't help but overhear some stuff... Fizzbang here might be a bit of a scamp, but he's always been true in heart. Sure, we jab him for debts unpaid, but he really is a loved member of our community. Besides, who doesn't have run-ins with ruffians these days? He may not be a paladin or knight, but he's always welcome here." Rod says with a smile and an inquisitive look at Aracynth. He refills all the drinks and asks if you'd like food as well.

"As for the 'Clock Tower Gang' I've not heard mention of them around here... and I hear lots. But if you need info on them maybe some of Fizzbang's... lesser acquaintances... such as Jalud? Might be of some use. Good rumor I have heard though is with the Duke stressing there's been less crime. Though tension is rising with Cloverdown again. That's never good. I've always liked Duke Armitage too." Rod shrugs holding his flagon of wine. "Just some thoughts! I can't really say I know much more than rumors, though!"

Kynortas stared at the group and sipped his drink thoughtfully. Murder and intrigue, a holy mission, and some harm reducing self-interest. His company certainly was interesting. He had encountered worse and these men seemed not only capable but also at least interesting. He listened with intent to all of the stories and kept quietly to himself, waiting for the group to address him if they even did. He was content to watch and listen not wanting to relive his pain.

"Tensions with Cloverdown are rising again? Would you care to share the history of what you are speaking of?", Kynortas asked the pleasant man.

"Oh of course, of course!" Rod replies excitedly to Kynortas. "So these two towns are the same age, you see. Dukes Bartimus Oglethorn II and Reznik Armitage were in the service of the King and not only drafted but delivered and deliberated the peace treaty with Marzen to the far north. For this they were granted lands and titles; Duke Oglethorn a smart, business-minded man took the tiny village of Ibben and built his castle around the Church of Goldenrock on the cliff. Duke Armitage was a cavalier and paladin and settled the horse lands of Cloverdown Valley, brokering a time of peace between the hill dwarves to the west and the elves in the forest: Huntsman's Dream. He is also technically the only land and lord between Marzen and Ibben. So they've lived since the Great March of King Esvarr, but in the past 10 years or so the Dukes have had a bit of a falling out. Duke Oglethorn mistrusts Armitage's disregard for law since he's settled the valley. I don't know truly what changed, but with Duke Oglethorn's only daughter fancying Duke Armitage's eldest son? That certainly hasn't helped..." Rod trails off a little, idly wiping a flagon by your table. "But the tensions usually break," he continues, "The Duke's don't see eye to eye but they have been pleasant for business purposes and still tried to maintain some contact. This one feels different, though. Duke Armitage has disregarded the messages from Duke Oglethorn and our Duke even shortened supplies to Cloverdown."

Rod shrugs and glances at the party, no smile lighting his face this time. "I don't know what your quest is about, and don't need to. But I hope it helps Ibben and Cloverdown. We don't need trouble." He looks down at the glass and then smiles back up at you all. "Enjoy your stay, folks!"

Tharin:

Aracynth was startled by the other soldiers sudden appearance. The fatigue must really be getting to me, he thought, if a fully armored man can sneak up on me like that. Aracynth had to admit though, that the man had a knack for asking the right questions, and the Dragonborn sat up a bit straighter as Rod told them of rising tensions between the once firm friends. 

The news of Duke Armitage being a Paladin piqued his interest, though remarks of his disregard for the Kingdom's edicts and laws was troubling. "Rod, you tell of the Duke Armitage being a Cavalier and a Paladin, do you know to which diety he owes his devotion? Mayhaps the root cause of this current unsettling is a matter of faith; It is alarming that a man of devotion, a man who once brokered peace, would forsake his own kingdom and salvation."

"You know, I'm not sure... I always assumed it would be Sol, the Sun God by way of his heraldry, but mayhaps its a horse god? Alls I know is Duke Oglethorn is devout as well. He's at his Church inside the castle at least once every day, but I don't know to whom he prays either." Rod looks up, remembering. "I know Duke Reznik Armitage took the coat of 2 rampant horses on a green field, o'er fess a yellow sun on purple."

Reznik Armitage's Heraldry

Tharin sits up a little straighter at the mention of the Great March.  He furrows his brow in thought, then returns to listening to Rod.  He seems preoccupied with something, but unwilling to mention it while outside ears may be listening.  

Fizzbang opened his mouth to retort the Dragonborn’s words. Then thought better of it. He took a long sip of his honey mead. On second thought, he realized, someone had to tell the scaly ****er off.

”listen here you,” Fizzbang slurred, “I’ve been plying my trade in these parts since you were suckling at Tiamat’s poison bosom. Now I allow a short joke here or there, it’s to be expected. And granted my character is somewhat less than exemplary, but I know Ibben. I know these people, I know how this city works, and I’ll be a bugbear’s codpiece before I let a stuffy scalesack like you disrespect me in my own bar!

if you’re too high and mighty to make a few coins then I’ll gladly take your share! And while I’m at it we’ll be saving a virtuous young maiden from slander AND avoiding a bloody war! OR you could sit on your scaly behind and pray the day away without actually doing and GOOD for anyone like you cloistered sorts alway do!”

Fizzbang took a deep breath and followed it with the last of his mead, before belching loudly. 

Aracynth was stunned at the Gnome's vicious retort. His pride however, was not, and it demanded appeasement. His eyes snapped toward the Gnome, narrowing dangerously, and he had a strong urge to bathe the diminutive upstart in frost. He inhaled deeply and his vision blurred, though he had no need to aim at this range.

Seeing Rod's growing apprehension come into focus just behind the Gnome's head stalled him for a moment though. Just a moment, but enough for Aracynth to regain his sense of place. He was a stranger here. Alone, and far away from everything he had ever known.

His gaze faltered and softened as he sighed heavily, breathing a thin layer of condensate onto the table edge beneath him. "Fizzbang, it would appear that I forget myself, and have done you injustice by speaking so presumptuously. I am sorry to have offended you in my callous ignorance. Thank you for the drink, Rod." He lowered his head, deeply ashamed at what he'd nearly done. It was time to go, lest he should further exacerbate the situation. Aracynth secured his gear as he rose from the table, and walked outside, allowing the cooler air to relax his nerves. His fatigue hit him again, almost as hard as the Balmor's mace, though his mind was occupied elsewhere. His pride had nearly cost him everything once again. 

Aracynth ambled a few paces away from the Inn, still crowded with the celebrations of revelers. He ignored the catcalls and cheers as he made his way to the temple up the road. Reaching the temple doors, he spared a glance back up the street towards the Inn, abuzz with merriment, with Goldenrock Castle looming behind at the end of the road. The sky overhead was dotted with pin-pricks of light and the barest sliver of the moon beginning it's rebirth. A Good Omen he thought; Perhaps this venture could still be salvaged. Tomorrow's problems would no doubt await him in the morning anyways, and he stepped wearily inside to the welcoming scent of cloves and incense. 

Tharin looks after Aracynth's hasty leave. Kynortas was still at the table, and Fizzbang was finishing the mead that Tharin thought he had chosen from the middle of the table. The tension that had been building around the dragonborn had been released with his exit. The rest of the group shifted in their seats, Rod resumed cleaning up and serving the rest of the patrons in the Inn.

"Let's sleep on this and go back to the castle in the morning. It would be foolish to deny a duke, especially one who can offer us so much in exchange for so little."

Kynortas had watched the dragonborn inhale and noted not only condensate, but his pupils relax as well.

"I don't think the gnome realizes just how close to death he just came." He thought to himself. While Kynortas had not interacted with Dragonborn he knew of them and their breath attacks were said to be particularly potent. As he watched Aracynth leave he knew to let him be. Sometimes a person just needed to be alone to cool off. He looked at Tharin and Fizzbang and saw that things had grown a little awkward, but relaxed somewhat after Aracynth left.

"I think we could all use some sleep. I have decided to accept the Duke's request. Let's all sleep off the drink and speak some more in the morning. If anyone wishes to join me in the quest I will be downstairs bright and early. Thank you, Rod, for the information and the drink. Both things were helpful. I bid you both goodnight, Fizzbang, Tharin."

Kynortas put down his barely touched drink and rose to head to bed. He wanted to analyze his fights in his head as he laid to rest. His group was interesting, but he could see them getting to more of a team as time went on and they worked together. Kynortas would rise early, as he always does, to train and eat.

"Fizz, it looks to be us left. Another round? I've slept too much recently and could use a good night to clear my head."

Fizzbang looked at Tharin, “Another round? Hells, the Duke is buying! If I’m going to sleep in the pigsty again tonight I might as well not remember it! Another round Rod!”

Rod laughs and refills your drinks. "To champions!" He shouts along with the bar. "Best of luck on the morrow, friends. And congratulations once again," He smiles, his round red nose twitching lightly, and walks back to his rounds.

In the morning Rod rouses Fizzbang, asleep at his table, to inform him the other 3 are standing outside waiting for him. "Looks like you're up, Fizzbang. Do our town proud, little friend!"

After a quick walk into the rising sun, you reach the castle gates. People are still excited despite seeming slightly groggy and hungover, so you get some cheers during your short walk. A steward greets you silently by a side door to the main gate and bows, silently ushering your party forward. He leads you past the coliseum, now empty and hollow looking, past the entrance to one of the mines, guarded by 2 heavily armored soldiers, and to your left you notice the tiny church with a slightly bent steeple that Rod referenced the Duke frequents. You pass through the main entrance to the castle and meet the Duke in the foyer.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you all. I take it this means you are seriously considering my offer," The Duke says almost impassively. The Duke looks to be in his mid fifties and sports a fine, black robe, graying brown hair, and sharp features. He’s of average height (5’ 10”) and build, though his long fingers sport many rings. A gold scepter hangs at his belt, the hilt of which ends in a serpent’s head and the top of it in a perfectly spherical red gem. An ornate necklace hangs about his neck and even his boots have a meticulous shine to them. He has a piercing gaze when he looks at you, but doesn’t seem menacing. His smile is genuinely warm, despite his tired look and poorly hidden distress.

 "Now, I will begin by answering our intense soldier friend: I would not consider Duke Armitage my rival. He is a fellow noble and has provided ample trade for us previously. As for why our daughter would leave I do not know. That is why I suspect foul play from the Marquess. I know he fancies Lady Rhea, but I rebuked him before as his character does not sit well with me..." he pauses, looking away.

"Lady Rhea is a young woman, well dressed as we are with dark hair and pale skin. She often wears long, flowing gowns like her mother. Our colors are black and gold, so likely she is dressed thus," his eyes look worn as he says this. His face darkening he adds, "Though that oaf of a Marquess has probably given her something else to wear so she is unrecognizable. I can 't believe he would resort to blackmail to force us to lower trade prices!" At this the Duchess enters and places a hand gently on the Duke's arm. "My dear, Bart. I know you're upset. I can speak with these fine men if you would like to take a walk. It may do us both good. Me to talk about it and you to clear your head."

"Yes, yes..." The Duke scowls and takes a while to look at his wife. "Please. Thank you. I bid you a moment's reprieve, gentlemen. I will return shortly and hopefully in better manners."

The Duke exits the room out the back (to a stairway leading up, it looks) and the Duchess turns to you. The Duchess is similarly dressed in black, a velvety sheen reflecting the torch light. Her dress is cinched at the waist by a thin, gold chain. She wears a small gold tiara in her raven-black hair, though she sports less jeweled items. Her rings are ornately carved and embossed with seemingly indecipherable lettering, though the only gem she has is a large, red hexagon in the multi-chain necklace clinging to her chest. She wears black, elbow length gloves in addition to a thin shawl. Her eyes are puffy as if she’s recently cried. As she turns she takes a moment to look you all over and nods, almost imperceptibly, before speaking.

"Is there any more information you require? I will do my best, but as you see she has been gone nearly a full cycle of the moon and we miss her dearly. It's certainly odd she hasn't contacted, so we suspect someone is blocking her communication or ours."

"Do you know of any good hiding spots where the Marquess is hiding? Does Duke Armitage have a holiday home away from Cloverdown that may be used for some purpose? Does the young mistress have a code that she knows we are there to rescue her? What advice would you have for those unfamiliar with the area?"

Tharin asks this in a calm and steady meter, with a small notebook at the ready.

Aracynth steps forward a pace following on the heels of Tharin. "Also, your Grace, if it is not too much to ask, I am curious as to the diety of both your Lord Husband and the Duke Armitage, if you might know. Roderick, the Innkeeper, spoke yesterday that despite the storied history between the Duke's Oglethorn and Armitage, there is tension rising and threats against the peace your Lord Husband has worked so diligently to establish and uphold. Know you of any unrest or change in manner or demeanor of the Duke Armitage? or do your qualms lie strictly with the Marquess? There was a tale that the Duke Armitage was once a Paladin, so I find it very disturbing that he would allow such ill-mannered behavior from his own child. 

Additionally, how far to the North is Cloverdown? At least two among our number hail from across the Sea of Tears and are unfamiliar with the lay of these lands. Would the trip North merit a Steed for travel, or can we make a timely trip by foot? 

And finally, there was mention of some possible supplies that might be afforded to us for this journey. Can you please provide further details of where we should proceed to procure these supplies?

I know it must seem like too much, but as much assistance as you can provide now will doubtless enable us to recover the fair Lady Rhea with both the haste and care that this matter warrants."

Persuasion : 20

Insight : 19 (OOC: to detect what I can of the truth behind the Duchesses replies.)

"Oh, many questions. Then I shall do my best. First, young elf, I do not know of any hiding spots or homes away from home, but the traveling merchants have spotted her around the Duke's Longhouse. Each time exclusively in the Marquess' presence. As for a code...? I suppose you could say "It's time for tea." ..." The Duchess' voice breaks a little "That's what she always used to tell me if she wanted to talk privately," she sighs heavily and then continues. "The road to Cloverdown Valley is quite straightforward. Simply go north, following the road and you will reach it. There is but one true stop on the way, you will pass by the monastery of the Order of Zant. They are a group of monks from all walks of life and act as a waypoint for travelers."

"Now to you, Dragonborn. First, please simply call my 'my Lady'. 'Your Grace' would be our Queen," She smiles. "My husband is not beholden to any god in particular, but he is a spiritual man and seeks guidance in the Chapel each morning. I suspect it is really more of a way for him to isolate himself and think alone. The Duke Reznik Armitage serves his god Etain. She is a horse goddess, known for her beauty, skill, and honesty. He previously served as a Paladin for King Esvarr, touting the words of Sol," the Duchess says, toying with her necklace subconsciously.

"The Dukes were once very close, you know. They grew up as neighbors in a small village south of here, on the edges of Ptolemos and our neighboring country Sciborna. They served the King in the Border Wars and the Great March, Bartimus as a Bard, forever the uplifting support, and Reznik as a Paladin, forever leading the charge. They brokered peace to end the Border Wars and King Hu Esvarr granted them lands and titles. Bart settled here, forever the businessman, to grow the mine and small merchant town of Ibben. He had Goldenrock Castle built and named it after the way the cliff face looks in the rising sun," she smiles and blushes a little. "Reznik took longer to settle, conferring with the Dwarven Tribes in the Giant Hills and the Elven people of Huntsman's Dream. He even broke from the order and relinquished his title of Paladin. The King still holds him in high regard, but after that they began to drift apart. Reznik became chaotic, chasing his heart instead of his duties. He married and finally settled, laying the foundations of Cloverdown, the quaint, though industrious, village in the valley. He mistrusts the King and the Order, and has even urged Bart to turn on occasion, but never with any passion. Bartimus and he have become distant of late, what with the King calling upon Bartimus as a business advisor. It pains him, you know, to lose his friend..." she trails off again, looking at Aracynth's feet.

"I'm sorry," she starts. "Cloverdown Valley is just north, as I've said. The travel by foot will take you the day, arriving at nightfall. As for supplies we can supply you with basic weaponry, but all of our armor is currently in supply of the guard. Eyani, the gnome merchant in town, may be able to supply you with some other things and we can vouch for minor sales." She hands Aracynth a small piece of paper with the Duke's Seal on it. "The armory is just to your right, through those wooden doors. Speak with the Quartermaster and he can give you some things. Best of luck to you all and I hope we have been of proper help." She bows slightly and folds her hands at her waist.

Aracynth:

"Thank You for your patience, My Lady." Aracynth bowed low, as he knelt before the Duchess, "We shall prepare and be on our way. We will send word by Raven when we have news to report." He said, gesturing to the figurine he had recieved yesterday. "In the meantime, I will pray for you and your Lord Husband's ease of mind. By your leave." 

Aracynth steps away, noting to the others that he will be at the North Gate of Ibben, ready to go, within an hour. He first stops by the Armory to request a longsword and an unmarked shield, if they have any available. From there, he proceeds to Eyani, looking for Healing Potions.