Killilli’s Dragon Heist

Lyss holds her hands to either side of her eyes and moves her head rapidly up the portraits, giggling and elbowing Aimee to do the same.

Aimee tries to determine where Cico's brand would be.

She giggles along with Lyss at the portraits.

She will again lean in to whisper to Lyss when the servant guy calls Mirt the old wolf again.

"Lyss, can you start calling me the Smart Wolf? Oh, maybe the Wise Owl? Or do I need to buy you a shirt with two big 'A's first?"

She looks over to Aldrik and smiles encouragingly for to give his plan. At a normal volume she comments,

"Too bad Lif couldn't come!"

((Is this the same Mirt Im thinking off?))

((Is he famous enough Aimee would have heard about him in the cloister?))

Aldrik nods to Fenton, and gives the girls a wink before starting his pitch.

"Fenton, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm sure you've heard of the up-and-coming neighborhood that is Trollskull Alley, with a variety of new businesses and attractions for some of the well-to-do among the city, from the merchant class to even some of the nobility. Capping the alley is the old manorhouse, which my companions here..." He motions a hand towards the three girls, "possess the deeds and full ownership of."

"Now, the Trollskull Manor, as it currently stands, is an outlier in the rest of the Alley. It is, admittedly, in dire need for some repairs. Cico, as the official sent to us from the Guild of Brewers and Innkeepers, has estimated a cost of twelve hundred dragons to repair the tavern and bring it to a certifiable state by the guild. And so, I have come to ask the Old Wolf for his business as a moneylender to secure a loan of that twelve hundred dragons."

Pausing a moment as if Fenton were asking a question, Aldrik continues. "Why would this be a good investment and what guarantees would you have of timely repayments, you might ask? What would set this taproom apart from others in the city? Well, in addition to the prime location, we have a line to one of the finest alecrafters on the Sword Coast..." Aldrik gives Cico another nod. "And there is another draw, one that the curious and adventurous in the city will flock to like seagulls to bread - Trollskull Manor has it's own friendly ghost."

Pausing for effect, Aldrik continues, "Much like how folk flock to the Elfsong Tavern in Baldur's Gate, people will want to come visit the inn where they can, perhaps, catch a glimpse of the spirit that is quite adept at making chalk drawings, among other things. And they'll stay - and pay - when we wow them with good ale and hearty food, lively music, the works. With the right influx of coin and some elbow grease now, we could eventually rival the Yawning Portal!"

He steeples his hands a moment, glancing at the others before facing Fenton in an open gesture. "Fenton, do you have any questions for me or my companions?"

Lyss stands by, rather impressed at his proposal. 

Cico watches the exchange with interest, paying particular attention to how Aldrik holds his body and hands as he talks. He tries out a couple of the hand gestures himself and then nods quietly when he's satisfied that he's copied them.

 Once Aldrik has finished his pitch, Cico moves to stand beside Kerri.

"The moneylender may now scoff and say disparaging things about the tavern," Cico says at his normal volume. "And that it's not worth what Aldrik asks. If he does you may feign anger, but true anger will be counterproductive."

He turns back to look at Fenton to see what he'll say in response to Aldrik.

Aimee shifts her smile to Fenton!

While Aldrik speaks, Edvord watches intently attempting to judge the impact of his brother's words. To his own ears the pitch seems reasonable enough, perhaps there is more to Aldrik than what Lord Reinholdt has conveyed.

Edvord Insight Roll: 12

Waiting until after both Cico and Aldrik have finished, Edvord adds in, "Returning to one of the more... ghastly... elements of the pitch. I have observed the apparition which Aldrik mentioned... If such subjects are likely to make this monetary opportunity disappear... as a man of high learning I could further expound upon the nature of the phantasm if desired."

Fenton smiles cordially at Aldrik, “Magnificent pitch, why, you could sell ice to the Tentowns! However, I do not have entire faith that you could successfully turn a profit on this business. The location is good yes, but the building has changed hands a significant number of times over the years. Established publicans, restaurateurs, and hoteliers have tried and failed to get it off the ground. What relevant experience do you all have, and what other than this ghost gimmick sets you apart from your predecessors?” 

As Fenton looks at you all one by one, Edvord gets the sense that Fenton very much knows how little experience you have and is merely asking in order to not sound presumptuous. 

Before you have a chance to respond, a hearty voice chuckles from atop the staircase “Aldrik my boy! Great to see you!” The same figure from the portraits, though plumper, stands atop the stairs, descending gracefully with a warm smile across his face and a glass of thick red liquid with a celery sticking out of it in his hand. “Always the bright spark in those drab Reinholdt do’s.  And talking of which… Edvord, it’s been a long while! I’ve not seen you since you went away for your studies.”

Rea hing the bottom of the stairs, he looks over the others, taking a bow as he reaches to kiss Kerri’s hand ”’Kerri Amblecrown, my,my, in all I heard about you, nobody mentioned what a beauty you are! And this must be Aimee and Lysslin. I’ve heard much of your tousles with the local gangs, any more leads on the scoundrels that came after Neverember?“ 

Finally, he turns to Cico. “ And you must be Cico, from the Harvest Road Abbey! I’m a big fan of Milners, talking of which….. Bently, why do my guests not have drinks? I would recommend this concoction here I call the Bloody Mirt. I discovered it on a far away island on one of my many adventures, and made a few of my own adjustments.”

As he heads over to his seat at the head of the table, he continues, every word he says seeming to bring immense joy to himself. “Now, you’ll have to excuse Fenton. I’ve grown tired of this investment game, and to be honest I’ve made more than enough off of it. I let Fenton handle all the boring stuff. I overheard your pitch Aldrik, you’ve got a little of that Mirt charm in you and I quite fancy the idea of owning my own tavern, one with a friendly ghost even more so! Durnan will be green with Envy!”

Lyss narrows her eyes at him knowing who she is, and even more when he mentions wanting to own a tavern...

Aimee is delightfully pleased this large man with a big mustache knows her!

"Hi Mr. Wolf! I don't think I know anything about you except you have money! Nothing about the people that took what'shisname! Haven't really looked though!"

Aimee will gladly try a Mirt.

Cico bows his head to Mirt at his greeting. He watches Mirt's eyes for a moment, trying to decide if he knows more than he lets on about Cico and the Abbey, but then decides whether he does or not won't affect what is happening here.

He then looks from Mirt to the paintings then back.

"You could buy any tavern you wanted," Cico says and then gestures at Kerri, Lyss and Aimee. "Though, yes, these three would make sure it wasn't boring. Do you need to own it though to make Duran envious? Perhaps your name in large letters showing your involvement would be more satisfying? One of these portraits could hang over the bar? Though a newer more realistic one would be more entertaining. Maybe harder on the ego but more honest."

Cico pauses, his head tilts up as he inwardly chastises himself. Speaking without thinking first never usually works out for him.

Edvord bows as a sign of respect to Mirt both when he enters and mentions his name. When there is a pause in the conversation before the party begins their pitch to Mirt, Edvord speaks up acknowledging Mirt's welcome.

"Sir, thank you for your hospitality. It has been too many years that I have been away from this city."

As the conversation begins Edvord sees the look in Lyss' eyes. As drinks begin to arrive, Edvord picks up a pair of bloody Mirt's, walks over to Lyss, and whispers to her alone in an attempt to heed off certain avenues of the conversation. "Time to see how crafty Aldrik is on his feet. He desires to avoid dilution of the tavern's ownership as much as you do. And let's just say I'm interested in how well he performs."

Edvord awkwardly holds both drinks after whispering, suspecting that the drinks may be alcoholic and unsure if Lyss is old enough to have one.

"Looks like a way to trick folks into eating veggibles...", Lyss mutters.

((She comes about up to Edvord's knee, and if he were good at judging halfling ages, he'd place her at about 12-13 years old, which is roughly the equivalent of an 11 year old human child, as halflings are considered adults at age 20. Whether he considers her old enough for alcohol would be up to him...))

"He seems to be doing alright so far..."

Mirt chuckles at Aimee’s comment “Not heard of me? Ha, what are they teaching in that dusty old temple! It’s true, I have a lot of money, earned through my amazing feats of bravery, strength, cunning and sometimes a little charm.” he waves his hand towards a picture of himself standing bravely against a towering black dragon. 

“ So, no word on these lowlifes that targeted our mutual friend Renaer then.” Mirt continues “That’s a shame, understandable with your new business venture taking up your time though. If you intend to start looking again, I have contacts spreading far and wide across this city and sharing information would certainly be of mutual benefit.” 

Mirt claps his hands together at Cico’s points. “Yes, yes, what a fabulous idea! My name and image should be at the forefront, I wish I had thought of it myself! It will bring in the masses on mass! And yes, I could just buy a tavern, but then I would have to run said tavern. There are a vast number of young ladies in this city who dream of one day spending an evening with the legendary Mirt. I would be doing a disservice were I to deny them my time. ” On discussion of his physique, he puffs his chest out a little, though he seems more playful than outright offended. “ Yes, I’ve been enjoying life, and my body has started to show it. So what? I’m still in my prime, maybe we can go for a round or two after we’ve got this wrapped up. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good bar brawl.”

Aldrik beams a wide grin at Mirt, and gives a bow as he descends the stairway. "Ah, Lord Mirt! Well met!" As Mirt demonstrates his knowledge of Aldrik's companions, Aldrik waits a moment, not wanting to interrupt his potential benefactor and insult him.

After a moment, Aldrik spies Edvord awkwardly holding two drinks, and moves to take one off his hands. He gives his brother a wink, and returns his attention to Mirt. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mirt. I've also brought you a bottle of brandy - I believe you were enjoying this particular vintage the last time we were neck and neck during that game of Talis." He offers the bottle, in its silken bag, to Mirt.

"Now, to the matter at hand." Aldrik takes a sip of the Bloody Mirt, and nods approvingly. "Trollskull Manor has plenty of history, and can be the capstone for the entire alley as it is brought to new life... though we may want to either get a new troll skull or perhaps think of a taproom name to focus more on our friendly ghost."

He pauses a second, turning to the girls. "Lif's Haunt, maybe? We'll think on that later."

Back to Mirt, "As for owning the tavern, these three lovely ladies are very possessive of it, as the upper floors serve as their home. But as a benefactor and patron, I can see you having all the perks you'd want as a tavern owner - a dedicated place at the bar, a portrait on the wall, a comfortable spot for a game of cards, and say a revolving cocktail special, such as this fine concoction." Sip. "But you don't want the actual pesky parts of ownership like budgets, bar wench labor unions, swabbing the floors, and so on. We can handle that business."

Aimee smiles at everything Mr. Wolf says and nods at his offer.

She does ask,

"Do you know these people maybe?"

She turns into tentacles and then the dead orc guy.

(Not sure on the timing of this, she wouldn't do it during the 'Sell')

Kerri watches Mirt, "I havent stopped looking for information," she say carefully. "Its just not there right now."

Mirt takes the bottle with a gracious bow, excitedly popping off the cork and swirling it delicately before pressing it against his nose. As he inhales, his cheery facadey  creases slightly before he composes himself “Well, uh, this will make a fine base to try to come up with some more concoctions.” He passes the bottle to Bently to store away, “Thank you Aldrik, I owe you a rematch soon.”

To Aimee he remarks, “Well, they definitely aren’t my type if that’s what you mean.” Chuckling at his own joke. ”But no, I don’t know those individuals. This is the mind flayer you encountered with Renaer correct?” He furrows his brow “Nasty creatures they are. Renaer assures me that nobody came under it’s thrall.  I would be careful who to trust in these times, this one could have his grip around anyone you meet and you wouldn’t know it.” 

At Kerri he nods approvingly, “Well that’s reassuring, you’ll have to catch me up on your efforts once we are done with our business.” 

Once you are all seated, sipping on your spicy tomatoey boozy drinks, Aldrik begins his sell. Mirt listens intently, looking at Aldrik like a proud father. “You speak with eloquence young Aldrik, I’m sure you’ll break many hearts like your good old uncle Mirt.” He roars with laughter leaning over to slap the young noble on the back. “I love your insights here, but I think your brewery rep here has a far more simple and effective one. Why name the tavern after your spectre when you have such a recognisable name as mine that you can hang on the door eh? ” He looks over to Lyss Aimee and Kerri. “I would like to assure you, that I would not dream of taking this tavern off of your hands. I merely want to invest in your future, for our mutual benefit. Naturally I would need to take a share at the least, but you would gain the benefits of using my name and my consultancy. I would also be liable for any losses the business incurs, so would mitigate any risk on your part and would be able to cover any expenses that may come along down the line. If you were to borrow money, even from a source of reputable as myself, you would be putting yourself at considerable risk - Baldurs Gate wasn’t built in a day, you could be running a loss for a good while before you start to earn anything and then you’d have that interest hanging over your head. Here’s what I suggest, a five percent share of your business for each hundred dragons I invest. If we aren’t making enough within a year to satisfy me thenI can request the invested funds back, ending our deal. Sound fair?”