Kynortas was angry at himself. He was proud that they had won the bout, but he had contributed little. He would redouble his training efforts and make certain that next he was in combat his performance would improve. The gifts that showered the arena were many and he looked around to try and see if anything worth his time had come from the stands.

Perception: 20

Tharin pauses to pick up some of the gifts tossed into the arena, making sure to gather whatever was left behind by those eager to join in the revelry. He'll distribute the gifts evenly when the excitement has died down .

Fizzbang watched the shower of riches with the hunger of a fully grown mountain troll at supper time. 

Discarding any attempt at propriety, he dove anxiously for the bestowed coinage.

Perception 20

Between the 3 of you you recover an additional 290 gold and a small bouquet of local flowers. The crowd can be heard chanting “Fizzbang, Fizzbang” and “Swordsman, Swordsman” punctuated by claps or stomps.

If he has a chance, Tharin returns the bow and quiver to the marshal and asks for a receipt to keep tally of the costs. The debt will be paid after the festivities. 

In the waiting room a steward takes Tharin's bow and says to see the town smith, Kulgoth, for a chance to settle debts. Once the four of you are in the waiting room the gates shut and torches are lit by the same steward, illuminating the two figures standing in the center of the room. The first is a small, stiff man in his elder years, standing at attention of the other with a black shirt and pants, a white towel draped over his extended left forearm. He eyes the party as they walk by, silently.

The second man looks to be in his mid fifties and sports a fine, black robe, graying brown hair, and sharp features. He’s of average height 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 the party, but doesn’t seem menacing; it’s almost as if he can tell what you're thinking... Then he speaks:

"Gentlemen. Congratulations and many thanks for a fine show. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Duke Bartimus Oglethorn the Second. My wife, Duchess Helga, and I live in Goldenrock Castle and have ownership of the land of Ibben. Please, take this as your prize for winning the tournament.” The Duke says and hands them a figurine of wondrous power. “This raven will animate at the command: Lir Ve (silver sky) and can carry a message anywhere within its 24 hour time limit. To command it to take a message, simply say: Salif." (song)

He waits as a representative of the party receives the raven and smiles. "Now, if you would please accompany me to the castle, we have much more to discuss. The festivities here will continue in our absence." He then turns to the other man and nods, they silently walk back out of the waiting room passed two armed guards and up a path to the castle. There are no other people about in this path and it leads directly to a side door of Goldenrock.

Following the Duke, you enter Goldenrock Castle, taking in its sights: the make appears to be large, precisely chiseled, brown rocks that are mortared together. It looks quite old, and yet, the castle seems more sturdy than most. The air smells of barely masked sand and perfumes, as if the smells were fighting to be noticed above each other. The smell of the sea takes precedence, however, as the salt and moisture in the air pepper your noses. No hallways are too narrow, no ceiling goes un-vaulted, and each chambermaid and butler stands at ready attention at each doorway. They pay the adventurers little heed, but you notice some longer glances as there are non-royals in the Duke’s company. In a private chamber off the main hall the Duke begins in earnest why he needs you.

"Please, take some wine, I have a request for you." He looks to a butler who pours five glasses of dark, red wine into silver goblets. He first hands one to the Duke, then stands in front of the party with the goblets on a tray. "Since you have proven yourself, and shown that you are more than capable of handling both monsters and mercenaries I would like you to find and retrieve my daughter, Rhea." As he says this a door opens on the right side of the room and a middle aged woman walks in with puffy eyes. "Duchess Helga," The Duke notes.

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.

"Our Daughter, Lady Rhea," Duke Oglethorn continues, "Has been missing for two weeks now. We wish you to find her and return her to Goldenrock Castle. We miss her so, and rumors from traveling merchants have said they have seen her in the company of Marquess Armitage, the Duke Reznik's son. They are from Cloverdown Valley in the north." He looks exasperated as he says this and stares at his wife's shoes briefly before returning his gaze to you. "What do you say? Will you accept? We can give you what information we have and possibly outfit you if necessary should you request. My guards may have spare weapons or I could see what deals we could make with Kulgoth or Eyani for basic items. Please. We beg you." His voice trails...

In truth, Aracynth wasn't sure what to make of the Duke Oglethorn's request. While the four of them were undoubtedly capable, they were still barely aquaintances. Aracynth had already accepted the wondrous Silver Raven figurine from the Duke though, a rare item he'd seen only once or twice before in the Lysian Army, doubtless a tool to be used for this endeavor. Still, the humans standing before them, distraught as they were, must be truly desperate to trust such a matter to total strangers. Aracynth wanted only to rest and pray upon the matter, though he strongly suspected down which path his redemption must lie. The whole venture might go ill if any of the four of them would opt out though, and he wanted to hear his new friends thoughts on the matter before committing their services to the Duke.

"Your Graces, this indeed must be an incredibly harrowing time for you both. Though, given we are fresh from our own trial,"--he gestured to his own wound--"I would ask that you give us a chance to rest and to consider your request. Allow us a reprieve for this evening, and we will return on the morrow to give you our answer." The Dragonborn bowed deeply to the Duke and Duchess. 

Persuasion : 12

As much as Tharin was pulled to obey the... command? Tharin hesitates. He's more accustomed to orders coming from his superiors, not pleas. The wound received from the smaller sister was bothering him. It had blossomed into quite a magnificent bruise that would need ministration before too long. With the Duke's plea, the newly minted wound, and the debts he still had to pay swirling around his mind, Tharin piped in.

"Aracynth is right. We need to rest before we can go out searching for a wayward daughter."

Persuasion: 2

Fizzbang’s eyes bulged as he walked through the gilded hallways. He’d never seen such extragance before! He could feel the eyes of the guards on him as he walked. His fingers twitched, his eyes twitched, his twitches twitched. It took all his willpower not to steal at least something! Even a tiny thing! Surely that gold spoon wouldn’t be missed, right?

he listened to the Duke’s plea. Save my daughter, do this for me me, yeah, yeah. That was all well and good. But what he did hear was “pay day”, and that was a language Fizzbang spoke all too well. 

Kynortas had followed into the passage and to the Ducal estate. When offered the wine he declined politely and turned to listen to the Duke. The mention of the Marquess and the daughter being together leads Kynortas to play close attention to the duke's face, his cadence, his tone of voice and anything else that might give him a clue as to not only if he believes these rumors are true but also any other information he can garner.

Insight: 21

Duke Oglethorn had finished speaking and of Kynortas' companions spoke up asking for time to consider the request. 

"Your grace, what information can you give us of the valley and this Marquess? Are they a rival political house? Forgive my ignorance but myself and another of our group are not originally from this land. Could you tell us why would your daughter leave such a luxurious home? What does she look like? Is there any other information you would care to volunteer so that we might make our decision more readily? Lastly, my lord, what are you offering in return should we decide to take up your request? While the gracious thanks and favor of a Duke is a great thing to have it does not put food into this soldier's belly."

The Duke scans your faces hoping for something more than 'thanks, but maybe tomorrow' and his eyes soften and his face lightens at Kynortas' questions. "Ah, kind soldier, I will of course answer all these questions. If you must rest, however, I will speak no further of my daughter but grant you that we have stores of riches and I am an enchanter to some degree and could help you further your goals." His smile is tired but he does seem happy to have some interest.

"I will send word to Roderick before you arrive that you are to have the night on my wish without payment. You are the victors of the tourney at the very least!" He turns to a steward and whispers something to him, the steward nods and walks from the room briskly. As he turns back to you he bows slightly "Then on the morrow meet me at the castle gate and we can discuss the details further should you wish to partake. If not, I must say that I will be remiss, but my goals are not your own and I would wish you no ill will."

Kynortas:

"One more thing." The Duke adds, with a single eyebrow raised, "Fizzbang. I know of you from Ibben, and I would be willing to forgive, or at least refund, some of your debts should you help me. It would be only fair. Goodnight, and I hope to see you all in the morning."

And with that the Duke and Duchess turn, bow slightly to you, and walk out a side door from the room, leaving you with a steward and two heavily armed and armored guards.

Taking the Duke's leave as a dismissal, Aracynth asked the nearby guards for directions out of the Castle. Upon reaching the street, he moved through the crowds, shaking hands and playing to the fervor, until he reached the Crossroads Inn once more. He eased into a seat inside off to one side, ordered a round from Rod, and waited to see if his new friends followed. 

Debts forgiven? Fizzbang thought, now THAT had a nice ring to it. He wasn’t much of one for numbers, and loan shark interest rates being what they were....well, this was an offer he couldn’t pass up.

he certainly wouldn’t pass up a night of carousing on the Duke’s tab either.

Fizzbang rejoined his fellows at the Crossroad. “One flagon do your finest honey mead, Rod!” He shouted. Not that Rod’s finest was anything to boast about, but a man had to live a Little now and again.

”So friends, we’re taking this job right?”

Tharin bows curtly and turns to the others. 

"I have business to attend to before tomorrow, but here are the winnings we received from the crowd. I will see you back at the Crossroads later tonight."

Tharin equally divides the gold, giving a the gold statues to Fizzbang and Kynortas, and giving the flowers to Aracynth. He makes his way confidently out of the castle and heads into town, straight to Kulgoth's shop. He thanks the armorer curtly and asks if he could purchase a longbow of his own, as well as a quiver of arrows, some leather armor he hadn't nearly died in, and a few swords, just in case.

After that, he makes his way to the Inn and joins Aracynth and Fizzbang at the table.

Tharin:

At the Crossroads Inn a familiar chubby face greets your table. "Hello, hello and congratulations! I watched from the stands and whooped the whole time for you! The Duke sent a message your food, drink, and lodge are on him for the night. Let's celebrate!" He hands out flagons of honey mead, ale, brandy, and a rather sour smelling wine to your table, beaming. "I suppose you took his quest then? I'm sure noble heroes such as yourself will excel at whatever it is the Duke needs!"

Fizzbang:

The Inn begins filling up with the townsfolk again, each one passing by your table and shouting, most of them already drunk. The festivities continue on into the night, with or without your praise.

"You do seem to have much to gain in this venture, Fizzbang. Though, certainly a missing persons, especially the heir apparent of a duchy is worth pursuing. Still, it strikes me curious that the Duke Oglethorn would entrust such a vital quest to apparent strangers.." he let the thoughts hang as he sipped the brandy Rod had offered.

"You aren't wrong, Aracynth. But who better to send to retrieve a daughter from a rival dutchy? At any rate, the daughter probably ran off with this marquess to make a much smaller duke of her own, eh lads?"

The expectant pause hangs for a bit too long before Tharin continues, grabbing the mead from the gathered mugs.

"But her grace would probably bolt at seeing the guards she grew up with. We are strangers to her as well, and she won't know we were assigned to bring her back to her parents."

“See? Tharin gets it!” *goes for a high-five with Tharin*

Bloody Dragonborn still hasn’t forgotten the whole ‘pantaloons’ jibe apparently. 

“Now sure, I hav plenty to gain from this, I won’t lie. But so do ALL of us! Fame! Wealth! The support of a Duke! And all we have to do is bring his little ugly duckling home safe and sound! Come on now chum, you have to admit we make a good team!”

"Yes, and I am quite relieved to learn such. But more importantly, Tharin, by what means did you end up bloody, and in the street when we first met? As glad as I am for your assistance in the arena, it doesn't add up that one as skilled as yourself should be found in such a state. We've had barely a chance to talk yet, so please, share a bit more about yourself." 

"The tale I told to the guards of being ambushed in the Duskwater Swamp was not entirely accurate.  Since you seem to be lawful soldiers of Ptolemos, (albeit fallen from service), and an upstanding, law-abiding citizen, I'll be less discrete with you."

Tharin continues in a hushed tone.  He glances about the Crossroads, as if suspecting any of his words may eventually find their way to unwanted ears.

"I am a of lieutenant of Ptolemos, sent on a mission to take down the Clock Tower gang by assassinating its leader, the 'Lord' Semael."  His lips curl in a grimace, as if uttering this name was anathema to Tharin's core.  "On my mission, we were ambushed.  Betrayed, I'm sure, by someone within the Lion district.  I must get back to Ibben and report these findings to Captain Steelhammer, or someone in the Royal Guard.  This betrayal runs deep.  It must, or my team would still be alive and Semael would be dead."

He sighs, and leans back into his chair.  "Although I need to get back to Ptolemos, I can't do that safely without alerting the agents of Semael.  So I must make my way there as a mercenary, and must rely on happenstance to bring me to Steelhammer, in order to allay any suspicion of the agents of my doom."

"But what of you, Aracynth?  What brings you to Ibben?  I apologize for not asking sooner.  More pressing matters than pleasantries have made introductions impossible."