This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Geren takes in Reyna's speech...and can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"Well. This certainly is the most unique job I've ever taken on. But if we're to do this we'll need supplies. Wilderness survival isn't cheap and with how specific the instructions are.... And maybe some magical weapons and armor in case of trouble, you did say removing lizardfolk was preferable if feasible."
Persuasion: 24
Geren takes an appreciative bite of his second bacon and cheese sandwich. He gets the feeling this won't end well for the lizardfolk regardless of whether or not the party comes into conflict with them, but Geren isn't one to let sentimentality get in the way of his ambitions.
The arrival of the Duchess of Daggerford and her apparent familiarly with Reyna has Geren carefully put down his sandwich and wipe off his hands.
He rises to his feet and performs a courtly bow before straightening up.
Once the new figure is named Gus stands with a bolt, banging the table as he does knocking over a couple of mugs, " ya, yor, um. Your grace!"he finally gets the words out and bows.
Bree looks at the interaction between Reyna and Morwen too see if she can glean any information as to the relationship of the two.
passive insight is 14 and I rolled an 18 on insight.
Bree is able to tell they have a more than a passing familiarity with each other - that it's a mutual respect is plain to see. The older woman is old enough to be Reyna's mother and almost seems to have adopted a motherly tone and posture towards her. The disappointment etched on Morwen's face almost seems like it might just be there permanently.
Geren takes in Reyna's speech...and can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"Well. This certainly is the most unique job I've ever taken on. But if we're to do this we'll need supplies. Wilderness survival isn't cheap and with how specific the instructions are.... And maybe some magical weapons and armor in case of trouble, you did say removing lizardfolk was preferable if feasible."
Persuasion: 13
Geren takes an appreciative bite of his second bacon and cheese sandwich. He gets the feeling this won't end well for the lizardfolk regardless of whether or not the party comes into conflict with them, but Geren isn't one to let sentimentality get in the way of his ambitions.
The arrival of the Duchess of Daggerford and her apparent familiarly with Reyna has Geren carefully put down his sandwich and wipe off his hands.
He rises to his feet and performs a courtly bow before straightening up.
"Duchess Daggerford, a pleasure."
Geren wracks his mind for what he knows of her.
History: 11
(Before the Duchess arrives)
Reyna: "Yes, their removal is preferable. But your suicide is not. As for supplies, that's why I mentioned Crom's Hold - while I can give you funds for whatever they have available here, its more than likely you'll be able to get more help from the Baroness."
(After Duchess's arrival)
Geren is able to recall that which anyone who had spent more than a few days living in any town within a few hundred miles of Daggerford would know - Morwen Daggerford's brother, you can't recall his name, had been the Duke here, but was not very well liked, and as a result the inheritance laws shifted to a purely cognatic primogeniture from an agnatic-cognatic primogeniture (from male preference first-born, to equal between genders first-born; and Morwen, being older than her brother, thus became the new Duchess then - some decades ago now). He also knows that Morwen spent some time captured by a demon or something, Geren is vague on the specifics, but thanks to the efforts of some adventures, was rescued. Her brother was involved, and was possessed, and did not survive. He had been in charge of Crom's Hold you think? Nayeli Goldflower was a name associated with him, you think? Of Morwen, you know she has a reputation for being tough but fair, and good hearted, unlike her brother who had been very self-indulgent.
Gus smiles back at Innes, barely catching the question, "16 mistress Reyna. And no, does it mean she likes madame Cleo?" he pets the cat.
(Before Ducchess's arrival)
Reyna blinks. Then she smiles. "Yes. Yes, it very much means she likes your, uhm. Cat." She looks at Madame Cleo and gives her a little wave. Then she looks back at you. "Please don't do anything to get hurt on this; I've lost many an adult under my command, and I've come to terms with that, but never a kid," she sighs, and looks to the rest of you. "You will be sure he doesn't come to harm, yes? Good." She answers her own question.
Once the new figure is named Gus stands with a bolt, banging the table as he does knocking over a couple of mugs, " ya, yor, um. Your grace!"he finally gets the words out and bows.
In response to everyone who has more or less mirrored Reyna's gesture toward the Duchess, she raises a hand. "Now, now, it's ok, no need for all that. I'm a solider - a fighting woman, not a 'noble'. Even if I am a Duchess," she laughs a little at her own joke. As a result, Reyna ceases her bow and looks at Morwen. Morwen starts again: "Ms. Nydlar, if I'd known you were coming I'd have baked something. Or I'd have had someone bake something. Or whatever. Why on earth are you in this..." she looks around the tavern. "Establishment. You, and your friends, should stay in the castle tonight. We've plenty of rooms, you know. More than I can fill up with my own cats," she goes on, almost stating to ramble.
Reyna: "Of course, your grace. I- eh." She looks back over the group. Then she looks back to Morwen. "I'm sure we'd be delighted to stay in the castle. Theres just one problem. I have a captive," she admits finally.
Morwen nods. "Yes, I know. You didn't think this was just a social call, did you? Really, Reyna, what am I to do with you? You were planning on bringing him to me, weren't you?"
Reyna visibly deflates. "I was... that is to say... I am instructed to bring him to my employer," she mutters.
Morwen frowns. "Of course you were. This ... Mr. V. of yours again, hmm? Really, Reyna. A fighting woman of your caliber can do better than a pampered patriar. But I'll hear no protest - his influence ends at the borders to my domain. He may be a Patriar, but I am a Duchess. You will hand him over to me, and he will face the justice he is due."
Reyna nods. "Of course, your grace." With resigned reluctance, she produces a key from one of her pouches. "For his shackles. I take it you've already seen where he is? I knew I should've cast invisibility on him," the last part is under her breath, but those nearest to her catch it.
Morwen takes the key, and hands it to one of several guards that have been waiting in a small line well behind Morwen. Morwen says something to the man, and then he and the other guards depart.
"Good. Now come, let's get out of this place, shall we?"
Reyna looks to the group, and sort of half-smiles. Sort of apologetic, sort of something else. She manages to shrug, before following the Duchess out, indicating that you all should follow.
As you each get up and pass by (assuming you do), Reyna, who has opened the satchel on the floor by her glaive, hands you each a pouch filled with 50 gold and 50 silver (ooc: I'll add it to your sheets).
Eltra takes his share and thinks about taking the shares of those who have little need for money but instead hops down from his chair and follows out. As he heads to the door he turns to the group and says "Someone should square up the tab"
Eltra takes his share and thinks about taking the shares of those who have little need for money but instead hops down from his chair and follows out. As he heads to the door he turns to the group and says "Someone should square up the tab"
Reyna smiles at Eltra. "Don't worry, I already settled your tab."
Eltra goes to slap her back in thanks but stops himself….
”Ah thank ye. A gracious host to boot!”
Reyna smiles. "Thank Mr. V. Eventually."
(OOC: I'm giving everyone a chance to have one last interaction with Reyna before the Duchess arrives, or some other action within the Tavern, before proceeding - after a time I'll presume everyone that hasn't said otherwise is on board with following Reyna and Morwen to Castle Daggerford. I'm also going to give everyone 50 XP for everything they did to get to the Tavern, and for having met the Duchess of Daggerford).
As Gus quickly gathers his few belongings, and Cleo perches on his shoulder, he looks over to Innes, smiles and waves. Passing Reyna, "lady Reyna, my thanks. I promise to do my best to help and not get myself kilt." he bows slightly and moves along with the others.
As Gus quickly gathers his few belongings, and Cleo perches on his shoulder, he looks over to Innes, smiles and waves. Passing Reyna, "lady Reyna, my thanks. I promise to do my best to help and not get myself kilt." he bows slightly and moves along with the others.
Reyna smiles at you and Madame Cleo. "Good - just stick to the rear, if any fighting breaks out, and use those spells and cantrips you've been working on."
As you pass by, Inness grabs your arm. "Come back and visit any time," she whispers to you.
Gus smiles back at Innes, barely catching the question, "16 mistress Reyna. And no, does it mean she likes madame Cleo?" he pets the cat.
(Before Ducchess's arrival)
Reyna blinks. Then she smiles. "Yes. Yes, it very much means she likes your, uhm. Cat." She looks at Madame Cleo and gives her a little wave. Then she looks back at you. "Please don't do anything to get hurt on this; I've lost many an adult under my command, and I've come to terms with that, but never a kid," she sighs, and looks to the rest of you. "You will be sure he doesn't come to harm, yes? Good." She answers her own question.
Dawn answers anyway, "I will do my best to keep him alive, along with everyone else."
Gus smiles back at Innes, barely catching the question, "16 mistress Reyna. And no, does it mean she likes madame Cleo?" he pets the cat.
(Before Ducchess's arrival)
Reyna blinks. Then she smiles. "Yes. Yes, it very much means she likes your, uhm. Cat." She looks at Madame Cleo and gives her a little wave. Then she looks back at you. "Please don't do anything to get hurt on this; I've lost many an adult under my command, and I've come to terms with that, but never a kid," she sighs, and looks to the rest of you. "You will be sure he doesn't come to harm, yes? Good." She answers her own question.
Dawn answers anyway, "I will do my best to keep him alive, along with everyone else."
Reyna nods, and you note some degree of visible relief. "I believe you. I am glad they will have someone like you watching out for them."
As everyone comes outside into the warm summer night air, the sun only having departed behind the horizon perhaps an hour ago, there are still plenty of people on the streets - though most if not all the stalls in the market square are closed, or in the process of closing. By the time everyone has collected outside, the group of guards that had been escorting Morwen have returned, and they are walking in formation surrounding a human male of about the same age as Reyna, with both his feet and his hands bound in shackles, leaving just enough slack for his feet to take small, hurried steps to keep up with the guardsmen who are practically shoving him along. As they get closer, the shackled man's face comes into better view:
He might almost be fair, quite handsome even, if not for the numerous and vicious scars – scraps, burns, and lacerations of various depths, sizes and freshness seem to cover every inch of his skin, but none of it seems to have affected his spirit – there is a powerful feeling of energy about him. Perhaps it’s just defiance, but as each of you look more closely you realize that it's probably something darker - malice and unbridled contempt, or at least that's what you assume it to be when you recognize where you've seen him before. Wanted posters, in every major port of the greater Waterdeep region, as far north as Neverwinter, as far south as Calimport - or so the rumor goes at least. The man in front of you is none other than Feydon the Cold – the most hated pirate to plague the Sword Coast in recent times. Though he's thoroughly defeated, and almost certainly going to be hanged, his outward composure is almost catatonically undisturbed - a fact that the guards are clearly frustrated by. Their taunts, jeers, pokes and prods have absolutely no effect; he barely reacts at all even on being struck by the handle of a sword after nearly tripping to keep up.
Morwen balks. "That's won't be necessary, guardsman," she bellows, not so much in anger, but to be clear she is heard, as they are still a good 50 feet away. With his feet chained, as fast as he tries, he cannot move more quickly than a slow walk. As soon as he sees Reyna, his eyes narrow just slightly, and never move away from her, yet there's little else for evidence of what is going on internally in his mind.
"Where should we put him, your grace?" the lead guardsman asks when they've neared enough. "I fear the town jail may not be suitable for the likes of him."
Morwen sighs. "Yes, I suppose you're right. He may have sympathizers within the city. But not within the castle. Put him in the dungeon. We'll fast track his trial and see him brought to justice," she commands. The guard captain nods, and the group of guards begin pushing their prisoner toward the castle.
Reyna watches them depart, a mixture of emotion on her face, but a clear amount of anxiety she's unable to conceal. Oblivious to this, or perhaps uninterested, Morwen turns to the group and considers each of you. "I don't recognize any of you. You must be new to the city. Would you like a brief tour before we adjourn to the castle for a late supper? I understand you've been given some assignment involving a trip to Crom's Hold? I happen to be in need of a message to be delivered there. We can discuss the details over our meal."
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Eltra sits waiting to see what drama unfolds between the two ladies
Geren takes in Reyna's speech...and can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"Well. This certainly is the most unique job I've ever taken on. But if we're to do this we'll need supplies. Wilderness survival isn't cheap and with how specific the instructions are.... And maybe some magical weapons and armor in case of trouble, you did say removing lizardfolk was preferable if feasible."
Persuasion: 24
Geren takes an appreciative bite of his second bacon and cheese sandwich. He gets the feeling this won't end well for the lizardfolk regardless of whether or not the party comes into conflict with them, but Geren isn't one to let sentimentality get in the way of his ambitions.
The arrival of the Duchess of Daggerford and her apparent familiarly with Reyna has Geren carefully put down his sandwich and wipe off his hands.
He rises to his feet and performs a courtly bow before straightening up.
"Duchess Daggerford, a pleasure."
Geren wracks his mind for what he knows of her.
History: 7
Gus smiles back at Innes, barely catching the question, "16 mistress Reyna. And no, does it mean she likes madame Cleo?" he pets the cat.
Once the new figure is named Gus stands with a bolt, banging the table as he does knocking over a couple of mugs, " ya, yor, um. Your grace!"he finally gets the words out and bows.
Bree is able to tell they have a more than a passing familiarity with each other - that it's a mutual respect is plain to see. The older woman is old enough to be Reyna's mother and almost seems to have adopted a motherly tone and posture towards her. The disappointment etched on Morwen's face almost seems like it might just be there permanently.
(Before the Duchess arrives)
Reyna: "Yes, their removal is preferable. But your suicide is not. As for supplies, that's why I mentioned Crom's Hold - while I can give you funds for whatever they have available here, its more than likely you'll be able to get more help from the Baroness."
(After Duchess's arrival)
Geren is able to recall that which anyone who had spent more than a few days living in any town within a few hundred miles of Daggerford would know - Morwen Daggerford's brother, you can't recall his name, had been the Duke here, but was not very well liked, and as a result the inheritance laws shifted to a purely cognatic primogeniture from an agnatic-cognatic primogeniture (from male preference first-born, to equal between genders first-born; and Morwen, being older than her brother, thus became the new Duchess then - some decades ago now). He also knows that Morwen spent some time captured by a demon or something, Geren is vague on the specifics, but thanks to the efforts of some adventures, was rescued. Her brother was involved, and was possessed, and did not survive. He had been in charge of Crom's Hold you think? Nayeli Goldflower was a name associated with him, you think? Of Morwen, you know she has a reputation for being tough but fair, and good hearted, unlike her brother who had been very self-indulgent.
(Before Ducchess's arrival)
Reyna blinks. Then she smiles. "Yes. Yes, it very much means she likes your, uhm. Cat." She looks at Madame Cleo and gives her a little wave. Then she looks back at you. "Please don't do anything to get hurt on this; I've lost many an adult under my command, and I've come to terms with that, but never a kid," she sighs, and looks to the rest of you. "You will be sure he doesn't come to harm, yes? Good." She answers her own question.
In response to everyone who has more or less mirrored Reyna's gesture toward the Duchess, she raises a hand. "Now, now, it's ok, no need for all that. I'm a solider - a fighting woman, not a 'noble'. Even if I am a Duchess," she laughs a little at her own joke. As a result, Reyna ceases her bow and looks at Morwen. Morwen starts again: "Ms. Nydlar, if I'd known you were coming I'd have baked something. Or I'd have had someone bake something. Or whatever. Why on earth are you in this..." she looks around the tavern. "Establishment. You, and your friends, should stay in the castle tonight. We've plenty of rooms, you know. More than I can fill up with my own cats," she goes on, almost stating to ramble.
Reyna: "Of course, your grace. I- eh." She looks back over the group. Then she looks back to Morwen. "I'm sure we'd be delighted to stay in the castle. Theres just one problem. I have a captive," she admits finally.
Morwen nods. "Yes, I know. You didn't think this was just a social call, did you? Really, Reyna, what am I to do with you? You were planning on bringing him to me, weren't you?"
Reyna visibly deflates. "I was... that is to say... I am instructed to bring him to my employer," she mutters.
Morwen frowns. "Of course you were. This ... Mr. V. of yours again, hmm? Really, Reyna. A fighting woman of your caliber can do better than a pampered patriar. But I'll hear no protest - his influence ends at the borders to my domain. He may be a Patriar, but I am a Duchess. You will hand him over to me, and he will face the justice he is due."
Reyna nods. "Of course, your grace." With resigned reluctance, she produces a key from one of her pouches. "For his shackles. I take it you've already seen where he is? I knew I should've cast invisibility on him," the last part is under her breath, but those nearest to her catch it.
Morwen takes the key, and hands it to one of several guards that have been waiting in a small line well behind Morwen. Morwen says something to the man, and then he and the other guards depart.
"Good. Now come, let's get out of this place, shall we?"
Reyna looks to the group, and sort of half-smiles. Sort of apologetic, sort of something else. She manages to shrug, before following the Duchess out, indicating that you all should follow.
As you each get up and pass by (assuming you do), Reyna, who has opened the satchel on the floor by her glaive, hands you each a pouch filled with 50 gold and 50 silver (ooc: I'll add it to your sheets).
Eltra takes his share and thinks about taking the shares of those who have little need for money but instead hops down from his chair and follows out. As he heads to the door he turns to the group and says "Someone should square up the tab"
Reyna smiles at Eltra. "Don't worry, I already settled your tab."
Eltra goes to slap her back in thanks but stops himself….
”Ah thank ye. A gracious host to boot!”
Reyna smiles. "Thank Mr. V. Eventually."
(OOC: I'm giving everyone a chance to have one last interaction with Reyna before the Duchess arrives, or some other action within the Tavern, before proceeding - after a time I'll presume everyone that hasn't said otherwise is on board with following Reyna and Morwen to Castle Daggerford. I'm also going to give everyone 50 XP for everything they did to get to the Tavern, and for having met the Duchess of Daggerford).
As Gus quickly gathers his few belongings, and Cleo perches on his shoulder, he looks over to Innes, smiles and waves. Passing Reyna, "lady Reyna, my thanks. I promise to do my best to help and not get myself kilt." he bows slightly and moves along with the others.
Reyna smiles at you and Madame Cleo. "Good - just stick to the rear, if any fighting breaks out, and use those spells and cantrips you've been working on."
As you pass by, Inness grabs your arm. "Come back and visit any time," she whispers to you.
Dawn answers anyway, "I will do my best to keep him alive, along with everyone else."
Bree follows the others, eager for a new adventure and new things to see.
Reyna nods, and you note some degree of visible relief. "I believe you. I am glad they will have someone like you watching out for them."
As everyone comes outside into the warm summer night air, the sun only having departed behind the horizon perhaps an hour ago, there are still plenty of people on the streets - though most if not all the stalls in the market square are closed, or in the process of closing. By the time everyone has collected outside, the group of guards that had been escorting Morwen have returned, and they are walking in formation surrounding a human male of about the same age as Reyna, with both his feet and his hands bound in shackles, leaving just enough slack for his feet to take small, hurried steps to keep up with the guardsmen who are practically shoving him along. As they get closer, the shackled man's face comes into better view:
He might almost be fair, quite handsome even, if not for the numerous and vicious scars – scraps, burns, and lacerations of various depths, sizes and freshness seem to cover every inch of his skin, but none of it seems to have affected his spirit – there is a powerful feeling of energy about him. Perhaps it’s just defiance, but as each of you look more closely you realize that it's probably something darker - malice and unbridled contempt, or at least that's what you assume it to be when you recognize where you've seen him before. Wanted posters, in every major port of the greater Waterdeep region, as far north as Neverwinter, as far south as Calimport - or so the rumor goes at least. The man in front of you is none other than Feydon the Cold – the most hated pirate to plague the Sword Coast in recent times. Though he's thoroughly defeated, and almost certainly going to be hanged, his outward composure is almost catatonically undisturbed - a fact that the guards are clearly frustrated by. Their taunts, jeers, pokes and prods have absolutely no effect; he barely reacts at all even on being struck by the handle of a sword after nearly tripping to keep up.
Morwen balks. "That's won't be necessary, guardsman," she bellows, not so much in anger, but to be clear she is heard, as they are still a good 50 feet away. With his feet chained, as fast as he tries, he cannot move more quickly than a slow walk. As soon as he sees Reyna, his eyes narrow just slightly, and never move away from her, yet there's little else for evidence of what is going on internally in his mind.
"Where should we put him, your grace?" the lead guardsman asks when they've neared enough. "I fear the town jail may not be suitable for the likes of him."
Morwen sighs. "Yes, I suppose you're right. He may have sympathizers within the city. But not within the castle. Put him in the dungeon. We'll fast track his trial and see him brought to justice," she commands. The guard captain nods, and the group of guards begin pushing their prisoner toward the castle.
Reyna watches them depart, a mixture of emotion on her face, but a clear amount of anxiety she's unable to conceal. Oblivious to this, or perhaps uninterested, Morwen turns to the group and considers each of you. "I don't recognize any of you. You must be new to the city. Would you like a brief tour before we adjourn to the castle for a late supper? I understand you've been given some assignment involving a trip to Crom's Hold? I happen to be in need of a message to be delivered there. We can discuss the details over our meal."