Nodding, Falshen replies, "Any age, any size, and any metallic color." He glances toward his companions in case any of them wish to add any details before adding, "And how much for the cloak?"
"Any metallic, hmm? Let's see, let's see. Yes, I've got a small silver scale I could part with. Wyrmling, three, four years of age I believe. Yours for 150 gold pieces.
"As for the cloak, I would normally charge 65, but if you buy the scale I'll toss it in for 40."
Ian eyes the cloak longingly and mutters under his breath,
”Fair is fair. I cannot claim what he already claims interest in.”
To Grinda Ian says,
”That cloak is nice, I would like another like it or perhaps of a different style. Do you know of, or could you secure another cloak of magical quality? Perhaps something I could use during negotiations or in a range other circumstances?”
"All-purpose duds, eh? Variety of social circumstances. Might do, might do. I know a man who knows a kobold who knows a young lady who knows a gnome who could supply a Cloak of Many Fashions. Give me three days. 125 dragons, 25 up front."
Overhearing Ian's comment, Falshen turns to the bard, "If you wish the cloak, my friend, you should have it. My interest was more in the nature of magical curiosity than sartorial desire. If you will pay the 40 for the cloak, I shall front the 150 for the scale and we may both enjoy our acquisitions. What say you?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ian thinks about it and says,
”I like a cape that billows like the wind, but a cloak that could change at will would be very useful for a bard on the streets. I could stir a crowd with my voice a regal bearing or saunter off into the shadows and play a pauper.”
He looks to Grinda and says,
”The cloak of many fashions and the scale are what I desire. But we’ll take all three for 250 dragons. Or, my lovely Madame, would you consider in lieu of payment or even a depreciation of your asking price, that our services be considered for any tasks that need, ah, taken care of? We’re quite adept at finding our way into and out of places, collecting on debts owed, and other services.”
At the last point Ian puts on a sly grin and winks suggestively.
"Very charming, young man, but I have no services I require from you, nor am I an easy woman to haggle out of a profit. 300 gold pieces for both cloaks and the scale, or you can take any one of them for prices already stated. Final offer."
Overhearing the bargaining going on, Akai nudges Ian and Falshen. "Hsst!" he whispers, "Brooch and papers are high value, indeed - too high for Akai, for now. But Akai is gracious enough to add his coin for scale and cloaks. What say you?"
Falshen suddenly starts and glances about, having momentarily hallucinated that all of his companions vanished without his noticing the fact. He shudders away a vision of having stood in this same spot, frozen in time, for months on end.
Ian feels a quiver in his soul as if it had just been rekindled. He glances a little worriedly over at Falshen, shakes his head, and proceeds to hand over 300 gold to Grinda.
”Fair price, Grinda. I will be back for the cloak. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
Feeling as if he had awoken from a deep sleep, Irma heads back with the group and to look at the locks. He stands with the group looking at the cloak and scale waiting to see what happens in the room.
Ian pulls out the three “keys” that the party has collected including the dragon scale, the drow hand, and the eye stalk. He walks to the door and pushes the items up against the door.
The doors (V1) part, sliding back into the walls. The party sees a vast chamber (V2) beyond. Three age-worn columns support crumbling stone bridges 60 feet overhead, with the ceiling rising another 20 feet beyond that. Set into alcoves are twelve sets of double doors made of iron. Each door is 10 feet wide, 10 feet high, and embossed with images of dwarf warriors in plate armor.
The hot, dry air thrums with a steady ebb and flow, as of a great beast breathing.
Nodding, Falshen replies, "Any age, any size, and any metallic color." He glances toward his companions in case any of them wish to add any details before adding, "And how much for the cloak?"
"Any metallic, hmm? Let's see, let's see. Yes, I've got a small silver scale I could part with. Wyrmling, three, four years of age I believe. Yours for 150 gold pieces.
"As for the cloak, I would normally charge 65, but if you buy the scale I'll toss it in for 40."
Ian eyes the cloak longingly and mutters under his breath,
”Fair is fair. I cannot claim what he already claims interest in.”
To Grinda Ian says,
”That cloak is nice, I would like another like it or perhaps of a different style. Do you know of, or could you secure another cloak of magical quality? Perhaps something I could use during negotiations or in a range other circumstances?”
Madame Garloth rubs her chin.
"All-purpose duds, eh? Variety of social circumstances. Might do, might do. I know a man who knows a kobold who knows a young lady who knows a gnome who could supply a Cloak of Many Fashions. Give me three days. 125 dragons, 25 up front."
Overhearing Ian's comment, Falshen turns to the bard, "If you wish the cloak, my friend, you should have it. My interest was more in the nature of magical curiosity than sartorial desire. If you will pay the 40 for the cloak, I shall front the 150 for the scale and we may both enjoy our acquisitions. What say you?"
Ian thinks about it and says,
”I like a cape that billows like the wind, but a cloak that could change at will would be very useful for a bard on the streets. I could stir a crowd with my voice a regal bearing or saunter off into the shadows and play a pauper.”
He looks to Grinda and says,
”The cloak of many fashions and the scale are what I desire. But we’ll take all three for 250 dragons. Or, my lovely Madame, would you consider in lieu of payment or even a depreciation of your asking price, that our services be considered for any tasks that need, ah, taken care of? We’re quite adept at finding our way into and out of places, collecting on debts owed, and other services.”
At the last point Ian puts on a sly grin and winks suggestively.
Persuasion: 27
Grinda barks a short, dry laugh.
"Very charming, young man, but I have no services I require from you, nor am I an easy woman to haggle out of a profit. 300 gold pieces for both cloaks and the scale, or you can take any one of them for prices already stated. Final offer."
Overhearing the bargaining going on, Akai nudges Ian and Falshen. "Hsst!" he whispers, "Brooch and papers are high value, indeed - too high for Akai, for now. But Akai is gracious enough to add his coin for scale and cloaks. What say you?"
Irma agrees to lend his coins to Ian and Falshen.
Falshen is prepared to buy if everyone else is ready.
Falshen suddenly starts and glances about, having momentarily hallucinated that all of his companions vanished without his noticing the fact. He shudders away a vision of having stood in this same spot, frozen in time, for months on end.
Ian feels a quiver in his soul as if it had just been rekindled. He glances a little worriedly over at Falshen, shakes his head, and proceeds to hand over 300 gold to Grinda.
”Fair price, Grinda. I will be back for the cloak. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
Feeling as if he had awoken from a deep sleep, Irma heads back with the group and to look at the locks. He stands with the group looking at the cloak and scale waiting to see what happens in the room.
Ian with Irma and the group will begin making his way back to the locked door beneath the playhouse.
A 20-foot-high, 20-foot-wide stone corridor ends before an adamantine double door bearing Dwarvish runes.
The doors have neither handles nor hinges.
The writing reads, “THE THREE KEYS. BRING THEM FORTH.”
Ian pulls out the three “keys” that the party has collected including the dragon scale, the drow hand, and the eye stalk. He walks to the door and pushes the items up against the door.
The doors (V1) part, sliding back into the walls. The party sees a vast chamber (V2) beyond. Three age-worn columns support crumbling stone bridges 60 feet overhead, with the ceiling rising another 20 feet beyond that. Set into alcoves are twelve sets of double doors made of iron. Each door is 10 feet wide, 10 feet high, and embossed with images of dwarf warriors in plate armor.
The hot, dry air thrums with a steady ebb and flow, as of a great beast breathing.
Irma steps into the doorway and uses Divine Sense to scan the area.
[OOC: I accidentally posted this as a PM to George rather than on this thread. The check score here is just typed rather than rerolled]
Falshen readies his bow and slips into the shadows, preparing to skulk, scout, and -if necessary - shoot.
Stealth check: 10
Irma does not detect the presence of any celestial, field or undead.