”Hey friend, caretaker of this fine establishment, is there a good place to hide away precious valuables in this manor that you are aware of and if so could you lead us there? We wish to hide a small object the size of my fist away from prying eyes and and seeking hands.”
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Guiding the party down into the cellar, the spirit of the former proprietor shows them a loose brick in the wine cellar that neatly conceals a clean, dry, snug little cubbyhole, in which they find 1 silver pieces stashed away for a rainy day, as well as a greasy pack of cards, a small brass lamp, and a flask of oil.
A woman stands in the doorway. She is dressed in a brisk and business-like fashion, but with a touch of elegance. In one hand she holds a long black staff.
She bows with a subtle flourish and says,
"Good morning, masters. My name is Vajra Safahr. I have come to discuss a matter that may prove greatly profitable, should you wish to hear me out. May I come in?"
With an equivalent bow - though carefully calculated to be a degree or two lower than the visitor's - Falshen moves aside. "The famed Blackstaff of Waterdeep is always welcome. Please, come in and allow us to make you comfortable." As she moves (if she does), Falshen makes brief but formal introductions of all assembled.
She sweeps into the taproom with an air of proprietary authority, takes a seat at the head of a table, and lays her staff across her knees.
"It has come to my attention that you gentlemen have, through a series of fortuitous and highly improbable circumstances, gotten hold of an artifact that may or may not pertain to matters of vital interest to Waterdeep and her Open Lord. As one of the chief guardians of the good order of the City, I thought it prudent to investigate this very intriguing rumor. And, well, I happened to be in the neighborhood. My favorite tea house is just down the road. So. Tell me." She settles back into her chair, and her gaze travels across each of the companions in turn. "Have you recently acquired anything of sinister appearance, dubious provenance, or, eh, violent history? Anything, hmmm, uncanny? Anything uncomfortable?"
With only the briefest of glances cast about to take in his companions' expressions, Falshen smiles at the visitor and chuckles. "Pardon me for saying so, but you may wish to confer with the Open Lord - her sources seem to work even faster than your own." With that, the young rogue withdraws a slip of folded paper from his pocket and hands it to the Blackstaff. "A commission has been offered - " here, Falshen looks to his companions, "Laeral Silverhand has offered us a 10% finder fee should we recover the hoard of Dragons." Returning his attention to Vajra, he continues, "- a commission which requires us to make use of the object to which you refer: the Stone of Golorr. We have recovered it and were planning - just this morning, in fact - to attempt attuning with it. Your magical expertise is well-known and any advice you have to offer would be greatly appreciated."
“Good. You know what you hold, and you know what it’s worth. I had feared that the Stone had fallen into the hands of yet another band of feckless idiots who come to the City of Wonders with grand ambitions and no brains. Had you proven merely clueless, I may have been forced to relieve you of your burden. It would have been an act of mercy. But if the Open Lord has entrusted you with this task, I will not interfere. You say you intend to attune to the Stone? My only advice: ward yourself, as best you might, against the influence of...outsiders. If that lies in your power. I would offer my own services, but my talents lie elsewhere. Do you intend to proceed immediately? I would not tarry.”
"Kahahah! Indeed! You have good head, know that glory waits for none! Akai would have bent stone to his will already, but others find him too valuable to risk! One even threatened others with violence should they let him handle it alone!" The scaly pyromancer's diminutive frame puffs up with self-importance. "Feh! Not that Akai could fall prey to influence of outsiders! Likely they stay 'outside' out of fear of his might! They think they have any strength, let them come and prove it! They will burn like kindling 'neath dragon's fire!"
"No doubt you are. I can see you are a...circumspect little band. Well!"
She gets to her feet with an abrupt spring.
"A very great pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. I look forward to hearing the results of your investigations. Don't bother to send me any reports, I will hear whatever I need to hear. Good day to you."
Irma waits until The Blackstaff has left the Tavern-Base and turns to the party, "At least we're being left alone for the moment. What is our first order of business?"
"I suppose we start warding. I'm not untrained in repelling mental intrustions, but I also confess to not being the best at it. I'd prefer to act in a support role if possible. I can be on standby with a sleep spell, and I can also prepare to check the atunee's thoughts to see if I can sense any odd patterns."
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Ian asks the poltergeist,
”Hey friend, caretaker of this fine establishment, is there a good place to hide away precious valuables in this manor that you are aware of and if so could you lead us there? We wish to hide a small object the size of my fist away from prying eyes and and seeking hands.”
Guiding the party down into the cellar, the spirit of the former proprietor shows them a loose brick in the wine cellar that neatly conceals a clean, dry, snug little cubbyhole, in which they find 1 silver pieces stashed away for a rainy day, as well as a greasy pack of cards, a small brass lamp, and a flask of oil.
Ian grabs the silver and other items and lays them out for the party to see. He then stashes the stone in the hideaway. Ian says,
”Well we should be good to go. I’ll plan on adding these funds to the party funds.”
Ian then heads up to sleep off a long day.
Day 22 - Twenty-Second of Eleint
It's morning.
There's a knock at the door.
With a yawn and a brief shake of his head to clear the mental cobwebs, Falshen opens the door.
Ian will go and answer the door.
Akai joins the two, ready to brave the sun and
confrontgreet their guest.Irma will join the group.
A woman stands in the doorway. She is dressed in a brisk and business-like fashion, but with a touch of elegance. In one hand she holds a long black staff.
She bows with a subtle flourish and says,
"Good morning, masters. My name is Vajra Safahr. I have come to discuss a matter that may prove greatly profitable, should you wish to hear me out. May I come in?"
With an equivalent bow - though carefully calculated to be a degree or two lower than the visitor's - Falshen moves aside. "The famed Blackstaff of Waterdeep is always welcome. Please, come in and allow us to make you comfortable." As she moves (if she does), Falshen makes brief but formal introductions of all assembled.
Ian’s usual slight grin fades at the name and he bows as well.
She sweeps into the taproom with an air of proprietary authority, takes a seat at the head of a table, and lays her staff across her knees.
"It has come to my attention that you gentlemen have, through a series of fortuitous and highly improbable circumstances, gotten hold of an artifact that may or may not pertain to matters of vital interest to Waterdeep and her Open Lord. As one of the chief guardians of the good order of the City, I thought it prudent to investigate this very intriguing rumor. And, well, I happened to be in the neighborhood. My favorite tea house is just down the road. So. Tell me." She settles back into her chair, and her gaze travels across each of the companions in turn. "Have you recently acquired anything of sinister appearance, dubious provenance, or, eh, violent history? Anything, hmmm, uncanny? Anything uncomfortable?"
With only the briefest of glances cast about to take in his companions' expressions, Falshen smiles at the visitor and chuckles. "Pardon me for saying so, but you may wish to confer with the Open Lord - her sources seem to work even faster than your own." With that, the young rogue withdraws a slip of folded paper from his pocket and hands it to the Blackstaff. "A commission has been offered - " here, Falshen looks to his companions, "Laeral Silverhand has offered us a 10% finder fee should we recover the hoard of Dragons." Returning his attention to Vajra, he continues, "- a commission which requires us to make use of the object to which you refer: the Stone of Golorr. We have recovered it and were planning - just this morning, in fact - to attempt attuning with it. Your magical expertise is well-known and any advice you have to offer would be greatly appreciated."
She nods curtly.
“Good. You know what you hold, and you know what it’s worth. I had feared that the Stone had fallen into the hands of yet another band of feckless idiots who come to the City of Wonders with grand ambitions and no brains. Had you proven merely clueless, I may have been forced to relieve you of your burden. It would have been an act of mercy. But if the Open Lord has entrusted you with this task, I will not interfere. You say you intend to attune to the Stone? My only advice: ward yourself, as best you might, against the influence of...outsiders. If that lies in your power. I would offer my own services, but my talents lie elsewhere. Do you intend to proceed immediately? I would not tarry.”
"Kahahah! Indeed! You have good head, know that glory waits for none! Akai would have bent stone to his will already, but others find him too valuable to risk! One even threatened others with violence should they let him handle it alone!" The scaly pyromancer's diminutive frame puffs up with self-importance. "Feh! Not that Akai could fall prey to influence of outsiders! Likely they stay 'outside' out of fear of his might! They think they have any strength, let them come and prove it! They will burn like kindling 'neath dragon's fire!"
Ian puts his head down and shakes his head. Then comes up with a smile and says,
”Our fiery friend here has a lot of moxie. But you can trust that we will tend to this matter carefully.”
Irma nods in agreement, "we are planning to proceed with as much caution as we can."
The Blackstaff graces you with a languid chuckle.
"No doubt you are. I can see you are a...circumspect little band. Well!"
She gets to her feet with an abrupt spring.
"A very great pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. I look forward to hearing the results of your investigations. Don't bother to send me any reports, I will hear whatever I need to hear. Good day to you."
And she strides toward the door.
Irma waits until The Blackstaff has left the Tavern-Base and turns to the party, "At least we're being left alone for the moment. What is our first order of business?"
"I suppose we start warding. I'm not untrained in repelling mental intrustions, but I also confess to not being the best at it. I'd prefer to act in a support role if possible. I can be on standby with a sleep spell, and I can also prepare to check the atunee's thoughts to see if I can sense any odd patterns."