Bhevek passes the card back to Doozey as Ukharim approaches an agreement with Utar: "And what's to say you won't demand a full day of questioning with that additional fee? How about we settle on 30-minute visits for 15gp each and shake hands now? Half-an-hour for each visitor should be more than plenty of time?"
Doozey's continued use of Draconic does not go unnoticed. Bhevek complains:"Not a mute then, just strange. Whispers and foreign languages don't go so well in a negotiating setting. If Common is what makes you stumble, why not use the language of us Halflings then, instead of whatever it is you are speaking?"
Utar nods along as Ukharim as he sets out his counter offer, weighing and considering the halfling's words. "I am not opposed to these terms, provided we retain the option to talk further with either prisoner should it we see it necessary, but as I said previously, if we want more, we can always re-negotiate and could agree to do so at the appropriate time."
He then turns to the rest of CRAP before agreeing any deal on their behalf, "Are we agreed, 30 gold total for a half hour with each prisoner?"
Doozey looks up and gives Bhevek a flat look for the 'strange' comment, before going back to his writings. But as he returns to it he adds in halfling:
"Tongue is lizardfolk tongue. Not many words in their tongue requires tongue, unlike common and word of Hin, kinfolk, as know. But if unnerved hearing it, even when speaking only with self, I quiet then."
By the time he seemed just about down writing, Utar's question prompts a toughtful look out of the halfling, before offering up the freshly written card. "Fye by me. You 'em o'ers spea'. I wistem. Me wors for prisom wri'im 'ere, but save for waash." He then gives Utar a warning look as if to say 'Don't ask for repeat', before motioning for him to just move on.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Bhevek only grunts once more as Doozey offers his answer in the tongue of his kin. This side conversation then quickly gives way to Utar's latest effort to reach an agreement. Earning Raist and Neya's approval, and Doozey's... partially communicated agreement, the orc cleric turns to face Ukharim again. The halfling jailer nods and, unlike CRAP, does not seek the wisdom of the rest of his own companions: "Fine, you have a deal if you agree to one more condition: no harm is to be done the prisoners. Damaged goods lose value. You can leave your 30 gold on the table right here. Bhevek will show you to the prisoners."
Neither halfling moves until the payment is completed. The crossbowman in the corner still points his weapon in CRAP's general direction. Looking over his shoulder (passive perception), Raist notices that the guard's current target is the elf himself.
You recall a discussion with Utar and Doozey back when CRAP recruited the help of Captain Hulbard and his family. Utar asked Hulbard to share his opinions on other captains in town and Hulbard mentioned two of them. Captain Klaven and Captain Walharrow. The former was dealt with by CRAP and his crew was commandeered by his first mate, now captain, Hermenor. The latter was said to be a competent pirate passing for a merchant. Separately, Mar from The Laughing Goblin had previously described him as a half-man half-bull who had been missing for some time.
Ukharim and Bhevek exchange a look and a nod. The latter then leads CRAP northward toward a door set on a curved wall (opposite to the entrance you used to enter this hall.) Past this door, a cramped spiral staircase punches through the heart of the prison tower. Archways open onto each floor, offering eerie glimpses of dank stone corridors, barred cell doors, and scurrying river rats. The interior of the tower is pitch dark. The only lights you see as you pass each floor are from the tiny windows found in just a handful of cells, which happen to be unused. That said, you can hear the presence of prisoners behind cells with closed doors.
On your way up, as you pass by the entrance of the third floor, Bhevek points in the entrance's general direction and mutters “Pirate.” Bhevek nods to a passing dwarven guard and keeps moving; he does not stop on this floor. He keeps moving up toward the forth floor. On this top floor, the stairs deliver you onto a guard room that occupies exactly one quarter of the circle that forms the floor plan for this level (the top left quarter). The room is ill lit and, like the hall in the first floor, sports little more than a table, some chairs, and some loose furniture, all in a decaying state. There are two human guards on this room.
Bhevek leads you to a south-facing door, unlocks it, and brings you through. For the first time since entering the jail, you are now close to a jail cell. There are cells to both your left and your right as you advance through a dank curved hallway. You pass by two opened and three closed doors before Bhevek stops in front of a sixth.
It is this bandit’s cell at the very top of the tower, near a small guardroom, that Bhevek gestures you toward. He unlocks the cell door unceremoniously and offers you his lantern in case you desire to bring a light source with you into the cell. “Half a bell,” he snaps. An orc clad in filthy rags is held in the cell, lashed to the wall by her wrists and fettered with heavy chains. She winces at you through wet, plastered hair. “You’re no jailers,” she croaks. “Why are you here?”
"Thirty minutes," Bhevek reminds you. He waits at the door, keeping it open and watching for any mischief. It is pretty obvious that he can hear the conversation you are about to start with the prisoner.
Utar clocks Bhevek loitering around the door and decides to kick things off in Orcish. It has been a while since he has spoken his mother tongue and while common might allow his friends to listen in, it also allows the waiting ears of Bhevek to listen in too.
"You're right. We aren't your keepers, although they are just outside, so mind what you say. We're interested in heading out down the Iron Route. We wondered if you might let us ask you some questions. We understand there are some former Black Fist out there and a group of kobolds. Who did you run with?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Doozey for his part posted up just out of line of sight of the cell, half-figuring the sight of any halflings might prove more a detriment than anything. Plus, anything he might've wanted to ask the prisoner he'd trust Utar and the rest to say. But if in doubt, Utar yet had his card to fall back should his own considerations fail him in the moment. Though likely much like Bhevek, he'd frown a little at the sound of Orcish, but held back any word of complaint in favor of distracting himself trying to sniff out/listen for any living occupants in the other closed cells. Then maybe, just maybe determine their species and possibly how long they'd been imprisoned, if nothing else.
The prisoner adjusts herself as best as she can, though the result is still an obviously uncomfortable position. She tries to slow down the pace of conversation, asking for some introductions first. In Orcish, addressing Utar, she asks: "And do you have a name, kin? What interest do you have in the Iron Route?" She stifles a cough and waits for an answer.
Just outside the cell, Doozey keeps Bhevek company and relies on his senses to gather as much information about the other nearby prisoners as he can. The rank smell of humanoid excrement, dank conditions, and rotting food scraps all mix in the air to mask any pinpoint detail about the prisoners, but Doozey gets a whiff of oiled wood from a nearby cell, and hears a few whispers in the Halfling language coming from another. Based on general low noises, the ranger is also able to tell that six out of the nearest nine cells hold a prisoner. This includes the one holding the prisoner Utar is talking to in Orcish.
Utar continues in Orcish, "My name is Utar. My interest is in reopening the trade route. The people in the city are starving, I would prefer them not to. Whatever disputes exist outside of that are secondary. I have told you my interest, would you tell me yours?"
"Very well," the prisoner responds still in Orcish. "My name is Rathene Fel, and I am a member... a former member of the Gray Patriots." she pauses for a moment to adjust her bound wrists. “I’ve no loyalty to Sahnd Krulek,” she resumes. “I can tell you where the bastard is right now. Tell you about that dragonborn he’s at war with too. But first you’ve got to earn it. Get me a better cell, one where I can see the sky, and you'll get some answers. Get me out of here altogether and I’ll tell you all you want.”
As Utar continues to be the spokesperson for CRAP, Neya and Raist pay close attention to their surroundings. The human (insight) focuses on the prisoner herself, making a mental note that, based on her proud poise and confident demeanor even in these precarious circumstances, she is unlikely to succumb to intimidation as a questioning tactic. In turn, the elf (passive investigation) notices some details around the cell. The door is made of fortified sturdy wood, and it is set with small barred windows. The locks are fairly mundane though, and Raist has no doubt a person with strong shoulders or deft fingers could find their way past the door, as long as they are not chained.
Despite the rank smells just doing "wonders" for his psyche, Doozey smelled far worse, so put much of it out of mind... or as much as was feasible possible, in any case. He even went a step further in breaking out his cards and shuffling through them, before finding one that left him squinting and cocking his head to the side, before looking to Bhevek and says in halfling: "How you and brother end up business? Clan thing?"
Utar nods, responding to Rathene in Orcish again. "I can understand that. Answer me this before I see what we can do for you, do you know a Captain Burrall within the Black Fist? Would she take you back into the fold? That might be a way out of here too and easier for us to negotiate with your captors."
Once Rathene answers, Utar catches the others up, this time in Draconic.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
DM's Screen:
History: 3 (18)
"Fine," Rathene answers in Orcish still. "One free answer if it might make you more inclined to free me in turn: Yes, I am familiar with the name though I have no relationship with the Black Fist Captain. Even if I was interested in reformation, I doubt any Black Fist worth their salt would take any of the Gray Patriots back. Now, lower your expectations and get me out of here."
@Neya & @Raist & @Doozey: As Utar then turns to the rest of CRAP, and since you all speak Draconic, you may now consider yourselves all caught up with the prisoner questioning up to this point.
Bhevek chuckles at Doozey's question: "One for small talk are you... it is in the kin's blood, is it not? Very well, Old Grim, a great uncle on mother's side, used to live in Phlan. He made a business of helping out the Black Fist. So much so, that some Captain or another got to trusting the old man. When the jail outside town needed a new chief warden following a minor uprising, the captain recommended Old Grim to the post. It's been the family's business since, though our old clan didn't approve of it. They abandoned us, deserted us. We had to change our clan name and adopted the old man's name and new profession to honor his entrepreneurship. It is just a few generations old, and has even fewer members in it, but that's how Clan Grimshackle was born. How about yours? What clan did you say you belonged to?"
Doozey grimaced a little the phrase "small talk", but held his tongue, seeing the fruitlessness in trying to deny it in the moment. When finally questioned in turn he had lowered his gaze for just a few moments, before then following an inward bit of nodding at a thought, met Behvek's gaze once more. "Redfoot. A clan of traitors themselves, if'n you believe the words of the local archfey. Not fully sure myself bout it. Kind of... I last of Clan-..." He pauses in his admission and furrowed his brows before continuing, "As far as aware. Wouldn't happen to know 'bout Redfoots? Or stories shared by Grim?"
(OOC: All the above is spoken in halfling.)
Before Bhevek can ponder to heavily on the question, and at the risk of not having it answered, Doozey calls out in common to Utar, "Ramsom. Pay'em for her. We see piram sill'vo."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
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Bhevek passes the card back to Doozey as Ukharim approaches an agreement with Utar: "And what's to say you won't demand a full day of questioning with that additional fee? How about we settle on 30-minute visits for 15gp each and shake hands now? Half-an-hour for each visitor should be more than plenty of time?"
Doozey's continued use of Draconic does not go unnoticed. Bhevek complains: "Not a mute then, just strange. Whispers and foreign languages don't go so well in a negotiating setting. If Common is what makes you stumble, why not use the language of us Halflings then, instead of whatever it is you are speaking?"
Utar nods along as Ukharim as he sets out his counter offer, weighing and considering the halfling's words. "I am not opposed to these terms, provided we retain the option to talk further with either prisoner should it we see it necessary, but as I said previously, if we want more, we can always re-negotiate and could agree to do so at the appropriate time."
He then turns to the rest of CRAP before agreeing any deal on their behalf, "Are we agreed, 30 gold total for a half hour with each prisoner?"
Doozey looks up and gives Bhevek a flat look for the 'strange' comment, before going back to his writings. But as he returns to it he adds in halfling:
"Tongue is lizardfolk tongue. Not many words in their tongue requires tongue, unlike common and word of Hin, kinfolk, as know. But if unnerved hearing it, even when speaking only with self, I quiet then."
By the time he seemed just about down writing, Utar's question prompts a toughtful look out of the halfling, before offering up the freshly written card. "Fye by me. You 'em o'ers spea'. I wistem. Me wors for prisom wri'im 'ere, but save for waash." He then gives Utar a warning look as if to say 'Don't ask for repeat', before motioning for him to just move on.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Raist looks to Utar and nods keeping position behind Doozy. More importantly he keeps his mouth shut
Laissez les bons temps rouler
"I can agree to those terms."
Extended Signature
Bhevek only grunts once more as Doozey offers his answer in the tongue of his kin. This side conversation then quickly gives way to Utar's latest effort to reach an agreement. Earning Raist and Neya's approval, and Doozey's... partially communicated agreement, the orc cleric turns to face Ukharim again. The halfling jailer nods and, unlike CRAP, does not seek the wisdom of the rest of his own companions: "Fine, you have a deal if you agree to one more condition: no harm is to be done the prisoners. Damaged goods lose value. You can leave your 30 gold on the table right here. Bhevek will show you to the prisoners."
Neither halfling moves until the payment is completed. The crossbowman in the corner still points his weapon in CRAP's general direction. Looking over his shoulder (passive perception), Raist notices that the guard's current target is the elf himself.
History: 14
Extended Signature
Utar quickly counts out the 30 gold pieces and sets them on the table in two piles of 15.
"I can understand why you need to say that. Your charges will be safe with us."
Rising from his seat, Utar moves to follow Bhevek.
(@Neya: (history):
You recall a discussion with Utar and Doozey back when CRAP recruited the help of Captain Hulbard and his family. Utar asked Hulbard to share his opinions on other captains in town and Hulbard mentioned two of them. Captain Klaven and Captain Walharrow. The former was dealt with by CRAP and his crew was commandeered by his first mate, now captain, Hermenor. The latter was said to be a competent pirate passing for a merchant. Separately, Mar from The Laughing Goblin had previously described him as a half-man half-bull who had been missing for some time.
Ukharim and Bhevek exchange a look and a nod. The latter then leads CRAP northward toward a door set on a curved wall (opposite to the entrance you used to enter this hall.) Past this door, a cramped spiral staircase punches through the heart of the prison tower. Archways open onto each floor, offering eerie glimpses of dank stone corridors, barred cell doors, and scurrying river rats. The interior of the tower is pitch dark. The only lights you see as you pass each floor are from the tiny windows found in just a handful of cells, which happen to be unused. That said, you can hear the presence of prisoners behind cells with closed doors.
On your way up, as you pass by the entrance of the third floor, Bhevek points in the entrance's general direction and mutters “Pirate.” Bhevek nods to a passing dwarven guard and keeps moving; he does not stop on this floor. He keeps moving up toward the forth floor. On this top floor, the stairs deliver you onto a guard room that occupies exactly one quarter of the circle that forms the floor plan for this level (the top left quarter). The room is ill lit and, like the hall in the first floor, sports little more than a table, some chairs, and some loose furniture, all in a decaying state. There are two human guards on this room.
Bhevek leads you to a south-facing door, unlocks it, and brings you through. For the first time since entering the jail, you are now close to a jail cell. There are cells to both your left and your right as you advance through a dank curved hallway. You pass by two opened and three closed doors before Bhevek stops in front of a sixth.
It is this bandit’s cell at the very top of the tower, near a small guardroom, that Bhevek gestures you toward. He unlocks the cell door unceremoniously and offers you his lantern in case you desire to bring a light source with you into the cell. “Half a bell,” he snaps. An orc clad in filthy rags is held in the cell, lashed to the wall by her wrists and fettered with heavy chains. She winces at you through wet, plastered hair. “You’re no jailers,” she croaks. “Why are you here?”
"Thirty minutes," Bhevek reminds you. He waits at the door, keeping it open and watching for any mischief. It is pretty obvious that he can hear the conversation you are about to start with the prisoner.
Utar clocks Bhevek loitering around the door and decides to kick things off in Orcish. It has been a while since he has spoken his mother tongue and while common might allow his friends to listen in, it also allows the waiting ears of Bhevek to listen in too.
"You're right. We aren't your keepers, although they are just outside, so mind what you say. We're interested in heading out down the Iron Route. We wondered if you might let us ask you some questions. We understand there are some former Black Fist out there and a group of kobolds. Who did you run with?"
Doozey for his part posted up just out of line of sight of the cell, half-figuring the sight of any halflings might prove more a detriment than anything. Plus, anything he might've wanted to ask the prisoner he'd trust Utar and the rest to say. But if in doubt, Utar yet had his card to fall back should his own considerations fail him in the moment. Though likely much like Bhevek, he'd frown a little at the sound of Orcish, but held back any word of complaint in favor of distracting himself trying to sniff out/listen for any living occupants in the other closed cells. Then maybe, just maybe determine their species and possibly how long they'd been imprisoned, if nothing else.
-Perception: 27.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
The prisoner adjusts herself as best as she can, though the result is still an obviously uncomfortable position. She tries to slow down the pace of conversation, asking for some introductions first. In Orcish, addressing Utar, she asks: "And do you have a name, kin? What interest do you have in the Iron Route?" She stifles a cough and waits for an answer.
Just outside the cell, Doozey keeps Bhevek company and relies on his senses to gather as much information about the other nearby prisoners as he can. The rank smell of humanoid excrement, dank conditions, and rotting food scraps all mix in the air to mask any pinpoint detail about the prisoners, but Doozey gets a whiff of oiled wood from a nearby cell, and hears a few whispers in the Halfling language coming from another. Based on general low noises, the ranger is also able to tell that six out of the nearest nine cells hold a prisoner. This includes the one holding the prisoner Utar is talking to in Orcish.
Raist moves silently keeping the prisoner and the door in line of sight
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Utar continues in Orcish, "My name is Utar. My interest is in reopening the trade route. The people in the city are starving, I would prefer them not to. Whatever disputes exist outside of that are secondary. I have told you my interest, would you tell me yours?"
Neya isn't privy to anything spoken in this conversation. Instead of the spoken words, she pays attention to the orcish prisoner's body language.
Insight: 20
Extended Signature
"Very well," the prisoner responds still in Orcish. "My name is Rathene Fel, and I am a member... a former member of the Gray Patriots." she pauses for a moment to adjust her bound wrists. “I’ve no loyalty to Sahnd Krulek,” she resumes. “I can tell you where the bastard is right now. Tell you about that dragonborn he’s at war with too. But first you’ve got to earn it. Get me a better cell, one where I can see the sky, and you'll get some answers. Get me out of here altogether and I’ll tell you all you want.”
As Utar continues to be the spokesperson for CRAP, Neya and Raist pay close attention to their surroundings. The human (insight) focuses on the prisoner herself, making a mental note that, based on her proud poise and confident demeanor even in these precarious circumstances, she is unlikely to succumb to intimidation as a questioning tactic. In turn, the elf (passive investigation) notices some details around the cell. The door is made of fortified sturdy wood, and it is set with small barred windows. The locks are fairly mundane though, and Raist has no doubt a person with strong shoulders or deft fingers could find their way past the door, as long as they are not chained.
Despite the rank smells just doing "wonders" for his psyche, Doozey smelled far worse, so put much of it out of mind... or as much as was feasible possible, in any case. He even went a step further in breaking out his cards and shuffling through them, before finding one that left him squinting and cocking his head to the side, before looking to Bhevek and says in halfling: "How you and brother end up business? Clan thing?"
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Utar nods, responding to Rathene in Orcish again. "I can understand that. Answer me this before I see what we can do for you, do you know a Captain Burrall within the Black Fist? Would she take you back into the fold? That might be a way out of here too and easier for us to negotiate with your captors."
Once Rathene answers, Utar catches the others up, this time in Draconic.
DM's Screen:
History: 3 (18)
"Fine," Rathene answers in Orcish still. "One free answer if it might make you more inclined to free me in turn: Yes, I am familiar with the name though I have no relationship with the Black Fist Captain. Even if I was interested in reformation, I doubt any Black Fist worth their salt would take any of the Gray Patriots back. Now, lower your expectations and get me out of here."
@Neya & @Raist & @Doozey: As Utar then turns to the rest of CRAP, and since you all speak Draconic, you may now consider yourselves all caught up with the prisoner questioning up to this point.
Bhevek chuckles at Doozey's question: "One for small talk are you... it is in the kin's blood, is it not? Very well, Old Grim, a great uncle on mother's side, used to live in Phlan. He made a business of helping out the Black Fist. So much so, that some Captain or another got to trusting the old man. When the jail outside town needed a new chief warden following a minor uprising, the captain recommended Old Grim to the post. It's been the family's business since, though our old clan didn't approve of it. They abandoned us, deserted us. We had to change our clan name and adopted the old man's name and new profession to honor his entrepreneurship. It is just a few generations old, and has even fewer members in it, but that's how Clan Grimshackle was born. How about yours? What clan did you say you belonged to?"
Doozey grimaced a little the phrase "small talk", but held his tongue, seeing the fruitlessness in trying to deny it in the moment. When finally questioned in turn he had lowered his gaze for just a few moments, before then following an inward bit of nodding at a thought, met Behvek's gaze once more. "Redfoot. A clan of traitors themselves, if'n you believe the words of the local archfey. Not fully sure myself bout it. Kind of... I last of Clan-..." He pauses in his admission and furrowed his brows before continuing, "As far as aware. Wouldn't happen to know 'bout Redfoots? Or stories shared by Grim?"
(OOC: All the above is spoken in halfling.)
Before Bhevek can ponder to heavily on the question, and at the risk of not having it answered, Doozey calls out in common to Utar, "Ramsom. Pay'em for her. We see piram sill'vo."
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.