Wrapped in a dark hooded cloak Prudencecautiously made her way through the fog-shrouded back alleys of Woad Town... a wretched hive of scum and villainy where death and danger lurked around every corner... behind every door. But the Nightingale did not walk alone and thus had nothing to fear with a Mummers' Guild Mook at her side.
Prudence casually glanced down... her eyes met the irritated gaze of her companion... and protector. They both spoke using Mimzy's talent of silent speaknot wishing to risk being overheard. "You're here to provide security for my person... not to lecture me as if I were a child, Flounder."
The dwarf... Grendel Breakbones scowled, "don't call me that! You know I don't like people using that name. I've killed for less... as you well know. Now tell me again, why you dragged me out of a warm soft bed and the arms of a..."
Prudence did not permit the dwarf to finish his thought. "the arms of a street-tart..."She said as she shook her head... a look of obvious disappointment on her face,"Trust me Flounder your choice in pillowing companions has a lot to be desired. Cheap is not always the best option. I did you a favor... that one is nothing but trouble... even for you. Besides, you owe me a favor... or two, and I need your assistance... and your discretion!"
Several minutes later the pair entered the Woad Toad through the back entrance where they were met by a short elf female by the name of Cora. The one who had sent a street urchin as a messenger to Prudence concerning the worrisome matter at hand. The innkeeper quickly escorted them to a back room where a well-dressed young man paced back and forth nervously. He looked at Grendel, and then at Prudence and started to speak but fell silent as Mimzy brought her forefinger up to her painted red lips. "You'll do well to hold your tongue young Lord. You've already got enough trouble... do not seek to add to it. I'm here to see you safely home to your uncle... Baron Finius Faarquaad."
On the floor covered with a bloodstained blanket, another young Lord's body lay dead... killed by a blade thrust into his heart. Prudence walked over and peeked under the blanket and sighed. The situation was far far worse than she had been led to believe. The young man who lay dead was not just any nobleman's son. Most likely even Cora didn't know who he was exactly or else she'd have warned the Nightingale. The dwarf Grendel walked over beside Mimzyy and looked down at the corpse not recognizing who it was either. To him, it appeared as a simple case of two young noblemen slumming it... getting into a dispute, probably over a woman or a slight which ended in the untimely death of one of them. Not as uncommon as one might think even for Woad Town. Still, no one wanted to see a blood feud or worse erupt between two noble houses.
Then Prudence silently informed Grendel who the dead young man was... and the dwarf quickly became agitated... extremely displeased, to say the least, "bloody hell Mimzy! What have you gotten me into? I want none of it!"
"Too late for that... you know that as well as I do. And I'm sure I don't have to tell you how to do your job. But with this one, you best take great care and bury the body deep, very deep." The Nightingale advised.
"Deep! Shyte woman... this one is going straight to the pig farm and after this, my debt to you is gone... paid in full... no more favors from here on out. You've taken advantage of my good nature for the last time." The dwarf spat and crossed himself before he knelt down to get a closer look at the body... grumbling under his breath.
Prudence slowly walked over to the young man and placed her hand on his shoulder, "come with me, Lord Fitzroy. It's time to get you home to your uncle and explain the situation to him." The pair exited through the backdoor... the same way Mimzy had entered... leaving the dwarf to clean up the mess and dispose of the body...
Every lord and lady has heard of you (even if they pretend they haven't). Your name and your employer open even the most stubborn door. You have unrequited access to most noble houses and estates, excluding those who break the city's rules. Being on the wrong side of the law is bad for business. You also have access to locations deemed off-limits or illegal due to your knowledge of guardsmen's habits or their superior's interesting tastes. If you need money, men and women of any noble house will gladly grant you money in their pocket; either out of the kindness of their hearts, the promise of an owed favor, or special services only you can provide.
Organization: The Nightingale Order --//--The Order of Secrets
The Nightingale Order or the Order of Secrets... often shortened to the Order, or merely the Sisterhood. No matter what name is used the Nightingale Order is an ancient nearly extinct holdover from the days of old empires as a sort of pseudo-religious organization comprised of all-women known as Nightingales. The Nightingales themselves are an elite class of beautiful highly trained courtesans made up of the bastard daughters of the various noble and sometimes even royal houses. Such daughters are given up to the Order when they are still swaddling babes for protection and preserving anonymity. Such girls are given the same surname, Nightingale to set them apart from others and as a secondary measure to ensure that their true parentage is never known or revealed. The Order then provides each girl with a distinctive common first name but later when are of age (18) each Nightingale also chooses a professional nickname for herself... flowers and gemstones often being the most commonly used for this purpose.
The full origins of the Order are somewhat murky and not widely known but there are of course whispers and rumors that circulate. The one thing that is clear and universally agreed upon is that the Nightingales arose during a time of great political turmoil that followed a great civil war which allowed the Order to establish itself as an influential political force as both courtesans and diplomats often with no one knowing where one thing ends and other begins. For millennia now the Sisterhood tends to act hidden in the background of imperial and court politics as they ply their trade.
It is widely known that Nightingale processes an Expertise in Performance and/or the art of Persuasion as well as being required to learn at least one musical instrument as well as the art of Silent Speak. Fewer still know that Nightingales are also trained in Sleight-of-hand and the use of Thieves Tools which is often explained that sometimes they find it necessary to use extraordinary means in order to avoid jealous wives/husbands... or scenes that might otherwise cause a client potential embarrassment.
Backstory: Prudence Nightingale is of the Order of Secrets... born of an unknown noble house and parentage. Her first and only memory as a child is that of the Order... the Reverend Mother(s) and the Sisters who make up her family. Raised and trained extensively to perform in the combined role of courtesans and diplomats. At 18 years of age, Prudence was sponsored by a Warlock Patroness and anointed with the professional name Mimzy as she was deemed of sufficient skill and quality to be tattooed and embraced as a Dhampir... an exceedingly rare gift and a great honor given in order to extend one's existence and preserve physical beauty. Now that Prudence has graduated from the Order she is at an age where she is now required to seek out her own way as an independent agent for the most part while still bound by her oaths to serve and protect the Order and her Patroness as her sacred duty.
Appearance: Prudence Nightingale also known as Mimzy to her customers, close friends, and associates is an extremely attractive female with fair butterfly tattooed skin. Tall and slender, her most striking features are her haunting pale-blue eyes, ruby-red lips, and golden-blonde hair with rainbow highlights. Her haughty demeanor... expensive, fashionable, and sophisticated gossamer silk attire confirm her profession and status as a true Nightingale.
OOC: Hello all, I hope my post was alright. I just wanted to let everyone know I tend to enjoy creating and using NPCs for some of my scenes and turning them over (sharing them) with the DM to possibly further develop, etc. I like a Pinterest Character Board to help keep track of them all and link to add them to my posts of which the board can be shared with others to upload their own images there as well when giving out the board's collaborators link which I'm glad to do privately upon request in a PM.
The hot bath had steamed the room in its entirety, spreading the rich scents of the lavender and jasmine oils added to the water. Calsipher languidly combed his long pale blond hair, enjoying the comforts afforded to him by his most gracious host. After carefully scrubbing his skin clean of all imperfections he rose from the waters and stood before the polished silver mirror. His pale lilac eyes examined his face, his eyebrows were thick yet groomed, his lips pastel pink and enticing, his slim nose complemented the androgynous angles of his face. He was astonished by his own beauty, a vain thought and he knew it.
“It’s almost as if I was carved from finest of marble, by divine hands…” he said with a smile to the only audience that mattered, himself. He walked away from the silver mirror, towards the door that connected the bath to his private chamber.
On the canopy bed, awaiting him was a finely crafted outfit. The diaphanous silks had been tailored to his exact measurements. The material was exquisite, and he could tell that the tailor had experience and talent, both in ample measures. The opulence and artisanry of the robes he wore pleased him to no end.
He walked out of his room and headed towards the main door of the mansion, but was halted by an old tired voice. “Young Sir, The Master of the house would like a word before your departure this evening.”
Cal turned to the old butler with a kind smile, “Sebastian, I see you find yourself in better health... I have missed you.”
"Very kind of you Sir, It's good to be back in service.” He said as he straightened himself, only to avoid Calsiphers eyes.
“I shall see to him now Sebastian, you’re free to return to your duties.” Said Cal as he purposely positioned himself to make the old manservant look directly into his eyes.
The old servant shivered, excused himself, and disappeared into one of the many hidden doors within the mansion. They all led to the same place, the servants quarters, Cal had explored them all.
Cal walked down the stairs and past a hallway, followed the scent of burning herbs until he arrived. Lord Elren Damson awaited him with his usual forlorn expression, cigar in mouth, and shrouded in smoke. “Is…is it to your liking?” he said trying to fixed his gaze past the smoke to meet with Cal's lilac eyes.
“Yes, it is everything you promised, and everything I hopped for,” said Cal as he twirled. Then with a sudden stop he walked passed the smoke and took the cigar from Elren. “You cannot make a habit of this…” rage painted Elren's face but for a moment, “My Lord.” added Calsipher in a neutral tone.
“They help with…” Cal cut him off. “I know what they do, but know this… Even an Albatross can lose themselves in the sea.” Cal walked towards the door, with his back turned, he said. “I must go, remember that you too have a role to play,” and departed knowing that this would not be the end to that conversation.
Cal concealed himself in an old hooded cloak and stepped onto the streets, it would be a long walk from The Gardens to Woad Town. It could not be helped, he thought to himself and sighed, he needed to talk to his good ‘friend’. He walked through dimly light alleyways and streets, making his way to Whiteport, then followed the docks to The Airein River, and from the river beyond the wall.
He wove arcane words (Disguise Self) and bent both light and shadow around him, he closed his eyes and thought of his first day in the city, of the drunkard he witnessed, half dead, and marinating in a pool of his own piss and vomit. Cal focused on his face, and wore it much like his new gift from Lord Elren. He fancied himself a collector of faces, he called this one Hector. Calsipher slouched, dragged one foot, and began to walk the streets of Woad Town. He walked, ranted, and babbled, until he stood below the sign depicting a blue toad that dangled from rusted chains, and with a deep sigh, he summoned the odor of piss from his memory (Prestidigitation), it added credibility to his illusion.
Being in the city roughly a week, getting to know the the going ons of the Holy Church of Eshra, the etiquette and what is expected from him on a day to day basis, Torach finds out that the military side of the church, the Tempest Order, has their field commander, who answers only to Lord Commander Gauwyn Endhelm himself,gives tasks to those enlisted on weekly basis.
Torach waiting for his orders, he spent the first day of being in High Shore getting familiar with the lay out of the city, however after getting the streets and buildings as best as what he can to memory and taking notes in his daily journal he then spends majority of his time on docks.
Fishing with his home made bait and tackle, barely catching enough for his evening meal at times, but he loves watching the ships float buy, to the smaller row boats to the huge sail boats, they all bring a small to his face, as he tries to think on what it would be like to be on one of those vessels.
After having a good catch for the day, he shares some of his fish with a seagull that is alone. While cooking the fish he has cleaned he throws some to the gull, remembering the stories he heard as a child, gulls that are buy themselves host the souls of sailers lost at sea.
“Well little fella I best be going, I still have my studies, prayers and my weapon forms to go over before I call it a night, I am hoping I get my orders tomorrow, but I will be back, be safe when I am gone” Torach always smiling, bids the seagull farewell for now
He heads to the barracks with his cooked fish wrapped up in his backpack, greeting the city folk on his way with a cheerful “howdy” or “good evening ma’am, sir” his youthful excitement getting the better of him as he day dreams about what his orders will be, and how he will bring honor to his clan threw his noble deeds
The pale glow of the full moon shone on the now almost empty streets of Woad Town. At this time of the night, only the drunkards, the "courtesans", and the guard patrol were still out. No soul could have expected that the silence would be disturbed by the sound of running feet upon shingled roofs.
Two hooded individuals were giving chase to another one, ahead by about 20 or so feet. The latter was a young man, skin blue like the day sky and hair silver white and flowing in the wind. He was carrying something in a bag which he held closely to his side. And despite the distance, he could feel the anger his pursers harbored towards him. It amused him greatly.
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, jumping from roof to roof and vaulting over chimneys. "Get back here, traitor!", yelled one of the pursuers. "You can’t keep running forever.", yelled the other one. Which he found funny, because he knew he could.
As the chase continued, the silver-haired thief approached a large gap between the rooftops. A normal person wouldn’t dare attempt this jump, for there was an awful long drop for those who failed. But this young man was possibly just crazy enough to try. When he reached the ledge, he gathered all his strength and propelled himself forward. For a moment, he felt like he was soaring across the air. Reaching the other side, he tumbled and rolled over to catch his fall.
He looked back to his pursuers, who were contemplating jumping as well. "What’s the matter, lads? A bit to far for you?". The taunt managed to tip the scale in favor of jumping. Just like him, they tried to soar across the air to reach him…but fell short a few feet. In a loud noise that half the neighborhood might have heard, the two man fell on a scaffolding that came crashing down with them. The sound alerted some guards who soon arrived on the scene. The thief watched the whole scene, satisfied, before disappearing in the shadow.
A while later, he arrived at the Woad Toad, his favorite inn in the city. He pushed the door open, letting his senses become overwhelmed by the sounds and smells. "Cora! It’s been so long! How are you, darling?". The elven woman jumped when she heard the voice. "Gust? Blessed St. Heather. You’ve been up to no good again haven’t you?". Faking an expression of shock, he approached the bar and replied. "You know already? How?"
- "Half of Woad Town heard your little performance. I worry about you, kid". She bent down and whispered. "You know very well that Trefort’s men are after you. You’re gonna get yourself killed."
- "Well, I can’t just stand there and let them do what they want, can I? Who’s gonna stop them? The guards? They’re either too stupid or too corrupt.
- "I know. But, you’re one of the few customers I have that I can stand.". Cora sighed heavily before giving Gust a corner smile. "So, what did you task from them this time?"
The genasi smiled and revealed the bag he had been carrying. He showed her the contents of the bag and smiled connivingly. "Just enough to make them really angry."
As the sun set over the barracks of High Shore, the Tempest Order began their rotation shift for the night’s watch. Lord Commander Gauwyn Endhelm had his men stand in a line and inspected them as he marched from end to end, stopping at the last guard. This was the newest recruit, a Dragonborn who went by the name of Torach. “So, you’re the new recruit?” He looked at Torach up and down, he could tell that he was strong and could see why the cleric had sent him to enlist in the Order. “Father Edgar sang praises about your assistance to the church this past week. He’s the reason you’re here. Pray you don’t disappoint,” he turned from Torach and walked ten paces to the middle of them all and spun to face them.
“Listen up!” his deep voice boomed “I want all of you on high alert tonight. We of the Order have kept the streets of High Shore in good state, but even with our efforts the vermin of the night commit their crimes. As you know, the King has ordered us to keep the streets especially clean for the following week as the festival of the Solstice is upon us,” he looked at them all with a hardened face. “I expect a full report on any criminal activity you discover in your watch tonight. Begin your duty at once!” He barked with finality and the guards began their patrol. Accompanying Torach on his watch were Thury Ashbane a rugged looking man with years of experience in the Order, and Arior Forel a serious looking woman known for being an expert marksman.
“I’ll be leading us on our watch tonight,” said Thury to Arior and Torach. “Our march will lead us into Woad Town, don’t know how familiar you are with this city newbie, but you should know that’s where the worst of the worst are holed up,” he said in a grave tone before Arior broke her normally serious expression to flash a smirk at the Dragonborn. “The perfect mission for a new recruit, eh?” The trio marched down the cobblestone streets of the city for thirty minutes before they had reached the half-way point to their destination. The city watch had done their job well it seemed as the streets were tranquil for the most part, or so they thought. A sudden commotion erupted from an alley as they reached the Short Walk district, one person bursted from the window of a second story building and climbed onto the rooftop, right after two figures came through the same window and began chasing him. “And here I thought tonight would be uneventful,” said Arior, before Thury let out an order “After them!”
Mimzy & Calsipher
In the cover of night Mimzy and Lord Fitzroy exited the back entrance of the Woad Toad and made a right, before they could make it three feet from the inn an old drunkard who exuded a mixed stench of urine with floral undertones stumbled past them offending their sense of smell. Lord Fitzroy who had now become almost entirely sober at the realization of what he’d done began to exhibit signs of panic. "I'm a dead man," he said in a weary whisper and turned to Mimzy, "My lady I am a dead man! Do you know who that was? Once the King hears about this my head will be on a spike before the morrow, but not before being broken at the wheel! Our kingdom could go to war!" He grew pale and began hyperventilating.
Ten minutes after the departure of Mimzy and the lord, Grendel Breakbones had slipped through the back entrance of the Woad Toad and made a left, this time with a heavier burden than when he arrived. The slumped corpse of the noble weighed awkwardly over his broad shoulder as he made his way through the back allies of Woad Town, a maze he was quite familiar with. In this late hour those of questionable motives began crawling out from the shadows, looking for their next victim. Even in his burdened state Grendel gave off a dangerous aura which even those who did not know of his notoriety could tell he was not one to be trifled with.
He marched on until he made it to a crossway almost to the gates, when he stopped abruptly at the sound of shouting. He looked around to see where the noise was coming from, looking up in time to witness someone make an impossible leap from one rooftop to another. More words were exchanged before two more figures leaped into the night, only these did not make their desired landing. In a loud crash the two figures smashed through a scaffolding right besides Grendel. He let out a relieved sigh, but it was short-lived, from the darkness of the alley came the clattering sound of armor heading their direction. "This way!" The commanding shouts grew louder in the distance. "There they are!" Grendel let out a curse under his breath before trying to flee.
Gust
Inside the Woad Toad Cora Dustbloom had continued with her innkeeping duties after the departure of Mimzy and the lord. She was incredibly worried at the implications of what this could mean for her and her business if word got out that a noble had been killed in her establishment. The two men had been arguing over something at the bar before taking the matter to one of the rooms. By the time she went in there to see what was going on, one of the nobles was lying on the floor with a dagger in his chest bleeding out. Terrified, she called for the only person she knew could bridge the gap from nobility to the slums of Woad Town, the one they called Mimzy. The danger of what could come still lingered in her mind but for now she would try to put that aside.
A look of actual shock took hold of Cora as she peered into the bag Gust was holding. From within it, a pair of pearl eyes wedged into the sockets of a pure platinum statue looked back at her, the statuette held the almost real likeness of a sea dragon devouring its own tail with the exception of a series of glyphs running along its serpentine body. “Gust, have you lost your wits!” She said in a hushed shout, equally excited as she was mortified at the item the genasi held in his hand. “There’s no way they won’t come after you for this! You could buy a mansion in The Gardens with this,” she warned him. “What do you plan to do with it? You know this looks like something the wizards of the Spire might be interested in.”
Mimzy rolled her eyes with something akin to disdain at the young lord's words as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. "And your little head will be mounted right next to it on a kabob skewer if this mummer's farce of yours in any way involves his grace's daughter... the Realm's Joy. The Realm's Ruin, more like! Was it she who the pair of you fools were fighting over? I seem to recall a similar incident not all that long ago involving the two stable boys. Wasn't that enough of a cautionary tale for you? Look how well that turned out."
As he began to hyperventilate Prudence reached out and took him gently by the hand and continued to lead him through the maze of streets and back alleys of Woad Town wanting to get him to a better part of the city where she could engage the services of a private coach to take them the rest of the way to his uncle's city house. "I shall never ever comprehend the appeal Woad Town holds for young nobles and royals. Just know had this gone the other way... then right this moment your corpse would be on its way to an inglorious end at some peasant's pig farm. Come on then, don't dawdle now, the Night Watch is sure to be about. Once I get you to your uncle then you're his problem. Explain this all to him."
Gust looked at the statuette with a great sense of pride. Besides its large coin value, it was a symbol to him. A symbol of his superior skill as a thief. If he had been a nucance to Trefort before, now he would be a problem he can’t ignore anymore.
"If that’s your reaction, Trefort’s must be worth actual gold.", he mocked while speaking to his elven friend.
But Cora brought up a good point. What should he do with this statuette now? Sell it? That would just give those thugs the opportunity to steal it again.
"Well, as much as I don’t like it, the Spire might be my best bet. After all, those mages might know something about those runes on the side. And I don’t think Trefort would dare approach that tower. He hates mages and their tricks even more than I do."
As they exchange ideas on the matter, Gust couldn’t help but notice that something felt off. It was faint, but Cora’s hand weren’t as steady as usual and her eyes seem to be shifting towards the back door every once in a while.
"Are you alright, darling? You seem stressed.", he asked with genuine concern.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
An Old Trick and New Deceptions
Under the pale light of the moon stood and an old man, rugged, unclean, and clothed in burlap and string. Through his eyes Cal looked at the toad, recalling poor old “Hector”. His old emaciated body, the way he cradled his bad hand with the good one, the slow thick way each word would come out, the pain, loneliness, regret, and… the fear.
From below the blue toad a barely ambulatory “Hector” walked to the doors of the tavern opening them with his good hand, then stumbled in. Through parched lips and a tongue too thick for his mouth he uttered “Cora… Child… Bring.. this old… boy something…to wet his.. lips… while… he… can still drink,” each word started strong, thick in its enunciation, but slowed towards the end as if giving the speaker time to think before the next; a sign of an aged mind undone by an abundance of drink.
“Hector” paused, through his eyes Cal took in the room. Cora was speaking with someone, someone Cal had not see before.
(Perception: 10)
“You’re… busy, I’ll… wait.. at my… ah.. usual spot,” said the drunk as he hobbled towards the bar, then proceeded to struggled as he sat on a stool with uneven legs.
“Hector, an old client ravaged by drink and age. You feel pity for him, and humor him with a drink every so often, a kindness that’s all… An old drunk who can’t even remember what he ate yesterday little importance and even lesser consequence. That is what you’ll say if asked, and nothing more... and Cora, remember… I’m always listening.” Whispered Cal into Cora's head, as “Hector” looked behind the counter for something drink.
(Performance: 12 and/or 19 if Actor feat is applicable)
OOC: Hello, I edited the post due to some typos and some needed clarification at the end to indicate that I was using my psionic speech with the NPC, I refreshed the post due to it not loading and the dice rolls changed. I'm happy to reroll them. Once again I rolled without it being requested by the DM.
[Welcome to the official High Shore campaign thread.]
Prudence 'Mimzy' Nightingale
Wrapped in a dark hooded cloak Prudence cautiously made her way through the fog-shrouded back alleys of Woad Town... a wretched hive of scum and villainy where death and danger lurked around every corner... behind every door. But the Nightingale did not walk alone and thus had nothing to fear with a Mummers' Guild Mook at her side.
Prudence casually glanced down... her eyes met the irritated gaze of her companion... and protector. They both spoke using Mimzy's talent of silent speak not wishing to risk being overheard. "You're here to provide security for my person... not to lecture me as if I were a child, Flounder."
The dwarf... Grendel Breakbones scowled, "don't call me that! You know I don't like people using that name. I've killed for less... as you well know. Now tell me again, why you dragged me out of a warm soft bed and the arms of a..."
Prudence did not permit the dwarf to finish his thought. "the arms of a street-tart..." She said as she shook her head... a look of obvious disappointment on her face, "Trust me Flounder your choice in pillowing companions has a lot to be desired. Cheap is not always the best option. I did you a favor... that one is nothing but trouble... even for you. Besides, you owe me a favor... or two, and I need your assistance... and your discretion!"
Several minutes later the pair entered the Woad Toad through the back entrance where they were met by a short elf female by the name of Cora. The one who had sent a street urchin as a messenger to Prudence concerning the worrisome matter at hand. The innkeeper quickly escorted them to a back room where a well-dressed young man paced back and forth nervously. He looked at Grendel, and then at Prudence and started to speak but fell silent as Mimzy brought her forefinger up to her painted red lips. "You'll do well to hold your tongue young Lord. You've already got enough trouble... do not seek to add to it. I'm here to see you safely home to your uncle... Baron Finius Faarquaad."
On the floor covered with a bloodstained blanket, another young Lord's body lay dead... killed by a blade thrust into his heart. Prudence walked over and peeked under the blanket and sighed. The situation was far far worse than she had been led to believe. The young man who lay dead was not just any nobleman's son. Most likely even Cora didn't know who he was exactly or else she'd have warned the Nightingale. The dwarf Grendel walked over beside Mimzyy and looked down at the corpse not recognizing who it was either. To him, it appeared as a simple case of two young noblemen slumming it... getting into a dispute, probably over a woman or a slight which ended in the untimely death of one of them. Not as uncommon as one might think even for Woad Town. Still, no one wanted to see a blood feud or worse erupt between two noble houses.
Then Prudence silently informed Grendel who the dead young man was... and the dwarf quickly became agitated... extremely displeased, to say the least, "bloody hell Mimzy! What have you gotten me into? I want none of it!"
"Too late for that... you know that as well as I do. And I'm sure I don't have to tell you how to do your job. But with this one, you best take great care and bury the body deep, very deep." The Nightingale advised.
"Deep! Shyte woman... this one is going straight to the pig farm and after this, my debt to you is gone... paid in full... no more favors from here on out. You've taken advantage of my good nature for the last time." The dwarf spat and crossed himself before he knelt down to get a closer look at the body... grumbling under his breath.
Prudence slowly walked over to the young man and placed her hand on his shoulder, "come with me, Lord Fitzroy. It's time to get you home to your uncle and explain the situation to him." The pair exited through the backdoor... the same way Mimzy had entered... leaving the dwarf to clean up the mess and dispose of the body...
Character Name: Prudence 'Mimzy' Nightingale
Race: Dhampir
Ability Scores: (Point Buy) Str: 10 Dex: 16 Con: 12 Int: 10 Wis: 10 Cha: 17
Alignment: Neutral
Class(es): Sorcerer (Aberrant Mind) Lvl: 1 -//- Warlock (Celestial Patron) Lvl: 2
Background (Homebrew) Title: Nightingale (Courtesan)
Background Feat: Skill Expert (Performance)
Background Feature: Connected
Every lord and lady has heard of you (even if they pretend they haven't). Your name and your employer open even the most stubborn door. You have unrequited access to most noble houses and estates, excluding those who break the city's rules. Being on the wrong side of the law is bad for business. You also have access to locations deemed off-limits or illegal due to your knowledge of guardsmen's habits or their superior's interesting tastes. If you need money, men and women of any noble house will gladly grant you money in their pocket; either out of the kindness of their hearts, the promise of an owed favor, or special services only you can provide.
Organization: The Nightingale Order --//-- The Order of Secrets
The Nightingale Order or the Order of Secrets... often shortened to the Order, or merely the Sisterhood. No matter what name is used the Nightingale Order is an ancient nearly extinct holdover from the days of old empires as a sort of pseudo-religious organization comprised of all-women known as Nightingales. The Nightingales themselves are an elite class of beautiful highly trained courtesans made up of the bastard daughters of the various noble and sometimes even royal houses. Such daughters are given up to the Order when they are still swaddling babes for protection and preserving anonymity. Such girls are given the same surname, Nightingale to set them apart from others and as a secondary measure to ensure that their true parentage is never known or revealed. The Order then provides each girl with a distinctive common first name but later when are of age (18) each Nightingale also chooses a professional nickname for herself... flowers and gemstones often being the most commonly used for this purpose.
The full origins of the Order are somewhat murky and not widely known but there are of course whispers and rumors that circulate. The one thing that is clear and universally agreed upon is that the Nightingales arose during a time of great political turmoil that followed a great civil war which allowed the Order to establish itself as an influential political force as both courtesans and diplomats often with no one knowing where one thing ends and other begins. For millennia now the Sisterhood tends to act hidden in the background of imperial and court politics as they ply their trade.
It is widely known that Nightingale processes an Expertise in Performance and/or the art of Persuasion as well as being required to learn at least one musical instrument as well as the art of Silent Speak. Fewer still know that Nightingales are also trained in Sleight-of-hand and the use of Thieves Tools which is often explained that sometimes they find it necessary to use extraordinary means in order to avoid jealous wives/husbands... or scenes that might otherwise cause a client potential embarrassment.
Backstory: Prudence Nightingale is of the Order of Secrets... born of an unknown noble house and parentage. Her first and only memory as a child is that of the Order... the Reverend Mother(s) and the Sisters who make up her family. Raised and trained extensively to perform in the combined role of courtesans and diplomats. At 18 years of age, Prudence was sponsored by a Warlock Patroness and anointed with the professional name Mimzy as she was deemed of sufficient skill and quality to be tattooed and embraced as a Dhampir... an exceedingly rare gift and a great honor given in order to extend one's existence and preserve physical beauty. Now that Prudence has graduated from the Order she is at an age where she is now required to seek out her own way as an independent agent for the most part while still bound by her oaths to serve and protect the Order and her Patroness as her sacred duty.
Appearance: Prudence Nightingale also known as Mimzy to her customers, close friends, and associates is an extremely attractive female with fair butterfly tattooed skin. Tall and slender, her most striking features are her haunting pale-blue eyes, ruby-red lips, and golden-blonde hair with rainbow highlights. Her haughty demeanor... expensive, fashionable, and sophisticated gossamer silk attire confirm her profession and status as a true Nightingale.
OOC: Hello all, I hope my post was alright. I just wanted to let everyone know I tend to enjoy creating and using NPCs for some of my scenes and turning them over (sharing them) with the DM to possibly further develop, etc. I like a Pinterest Character Board to help keep track of them all and link to add them to my posts of which the board can be shared with others to upload their own images there as well when giving out the board's collaborators link which I'm glad to do privately upon request in a PM.
Lilac Eyes and the Scent of Jasmine
The hot bath had steamed the room in its entirety, spreading the rich scents of the lavender and jasmine oils added to the water. Calsipher languidly combed his long pale blond hair, enjoying the comforts afforded to him by his most gracious host. After carefully scrubbing his skin clean of all imperfections he rose from the waters and stood before the polished silver mirror. His pale lilac eyes examined his face, his eyebrows were thick yet groomed, his lips pastel pink and enticing, his slim nose complemented the androgynous angles of his face. He was astonished by his own beauty, a vain thought and he knew it.
“It’s almost as if I was carved from finest of marble, by divine hands…” he said with a smile to the only audience that mattered, himself. He walked away from the silver mirror, towards the door that connected the bath to his private chamber.
On the canopy bed, awaiting him was a finely crafted outfit. The diaphanous silks had been tailored to his exact measurements. The material was exquisite, and he could tell that the tailor had experience and talent, both in ample measures. The opulence and artisanry of the robes he wore pleased him to no end.
He walked out of his room and headed towards the main door of the mansion, but was halted by an old tired voice. “Young Sir, The Master of the house would like a word before your departure this evening.”
Cal turned to the old butler with a kind smile, “Sebastian, I see you find yourself in better health... I have missed you.”
"Very kind of you Sir, It's good to be back in service.” He said as he straightened himself, only to avoid Calsiphers eyes.
“I shall see to him now Sebastian, you’re free to return to your duties.” Said Cal as he purposely positioned himself to make the old manservant look directly into his eyes.
The old servant shivered, excused himself, and disappeared into one of the many hidden doors within the mansion. They all led to the same place, the servants quarters, Cal had explored them all.
Cal walked down the stairs and past a hallway, followed the scent of burning herbs until he arrived. Lord Elren Damson awaited him with his usual forlorn expression, cigar in mouth, and shrouded in smoke. “Is…is it to your liking?” he said trying to fixed his gaze past the smoke to meet with Cal's lilac eyes.
“Yes, it is everything you promised, and everything I hopped for,” said Cal as he twirled. Then with a sudden stop he walked passed the smoke and took the cigar from Elren. “You cannot make a habit of this…” rage painted Elren's face but for a moment, “My Lord.” added Calsipher in a neutral tone.
“They help with…” Cal cut him off. “I know what they do, but know this… Even an Albatross can lose themselves in the sea.” Cal walked towards the door, with his back turned, he said. “I must go, remember that you too have a role to play,” and departed knowing that this would not be the end to that conversation.
Cal concealed himself in an old hooded cloak and stepped onto the streets, it would be a long walk from The Gardens to Woad Town. It could not be helped, he thought to himself and sighed, he needed to talk to his good ‘friend’. He walked through dimly light alleyways and streets, making his way to Whiteport, then followed the docks to The Airein River, and from the river beyond the wall.
He wove arcane words (Disguise Self) and bent both light and shadow around him, he closed his eyes and thought of his first day in the city, of the drunkard he witnessed, half dead, and marinating in a pool of his own piss and vomit. Cal focused on his face, and wore it much like his new gift from Lord Elren. He fancied himself a collector of faces, he called this one Hector. Calsipher slouched, dragged one foot, and began to walk the streets of Woad Town. He walked, ranted, and babbled, until he stood below the sign depicting a blue toad that dangled from rusted chains, and with a deep sigh, he summoned the odor of piss from his memory (Prestidigitation), it added credibility to his illusion.
Being in the city roughly a week, getting to know the the going ons of the Holy Church of Eshra, the etiquette and what is expected from him on a day to day basis, Torach finds out that the military side of the church, the Tempest Order, has their field commander, who answers only to Lord Commander Gauwyn Endhelm himself, gives tasks to those enlisted on weekly basis.
Torach waiting for his orders, he spent the first day of being in High Shore getting familiar with the lay out of the city, however after getting the streets and buildings as best as what he can to memory and taking notes in his daily journal he then spends majority of his time on docks.
Fishing with his home made bait and tackle, barely catching enough for his evening meal at times, but he loves watching the ships float buy, to the smaller row boats to the huge sail boats, they all bring a small to his face, as he tries to think on what it would be like to be on one of those vessels.
After having a good catch for the day, he shares some of his fish with a seagull that is alone. While cooking the fish he has cleaned he throws some to the gull, remembering the stories he heard as a child, gulls that are buy themselves host the souls of sailers lost at sea.
“Well little fella I best be going, I still have my studies, prayers and my weapon forms to go over before I call it a night, I am hoping I get my orders tomorrow, but I will be back, be safe when I am gone” Torach always smiling, bids the seagull farewell for now
He heads to the barracks with his cooked fish wrapped up in his backpack, greeting the city folk on his way with a cheerful “howdy” or “good evening ma’am, sir” his youthful excitement getting the better of him as he day dreams about what his orders will be, and how he will bring honor to his clan threw his noble deeds
The pale glow of the full moon shone on the now almost empty streets of Woad Town. At this time of the night, only the drunkards, the "courtesans", and the guard patrol were still out. No soul could have expected that the silence would be disturbed by the sound of running feet upon shingled roofs.
Two hooded individuals were giving chase to another one, ahead by about 20 or so feet. The latter was a young man, skin blue like the day sky and hair silver white and flowing in the wind. He was carrying something in a bag which he held closely to his side. And despite the distance, he could feel the anger his pursers harbored towards him. It amused him greatly.
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, jumping from roof to roof and vaulting over chimneys. "Get back here, traitor!", yelled one of the pursuers. "You can’t keep running forever.", yelled the other one. Which he found funny, because he knew he could.
As the chase continued, the silver-haired thief approached a large gap between the rooftops. A normal person wouldn’t dare attempt this jump, for there was an awful long drop for those who failed. But this young man was possibly just crazy enough to try. When he reached the ledge, he gathered all his strength and propelled himself forward. For a moment, he felt like he was soaring across the air. Reaching the other side, he tumbled and rolled over to catch his fall.
He looked back to his pursuers, who were contemplating jumping as well. "What’s the matter, lads? A bit to far for you?". The taunt managed to tip the scale in favor of jumping. Just like him, they tried to soar across the air to reach him…but fell short a few feet. In a loud noise that half the neighborhood might have heard, the two man fell on a scaffolding that came crashing down with them. The sound alerted some guards who soon arrived on the scene. The thief watched the whole scene, satisfied, before disappearing in the shadow.
A while later, he arrived at the Woad Toad, his favorite inn in the city. He pushed the door open, letting his senses become overwhelmed by the sounds and smells. "Cora! It’s been so long! How are you, darling?". The elven woman jumped when she heard the voice. "Gust? Blessed St. Heather. You’ve been up to no good again haven’t you?". Faking an expression of shock, he approached the bar and replied. "You know already? How?"
- "Half of Woad Town heard your little performance. I worry about you, kid". She bent down and whispered. "You know very well that Trefort’s men are after you. You’re gonna get yourself killed."
- "Well, I can’t just stand there and let them do what they want, can I? Who’s gonna stop them? The guards? They’re either too stupid or too corrupt.
- "I know. But, you’re one of the few customers I have that I can stand.". Cora sighed heavily before giving Gust a corner smile. "So, what did you task from them this time?"
The genasi smiled and revealed the bag he had been carrying. He showed her the contents of the bag and smiled connivingly. "Just enough to make them really angry."
Torach
As the sun set over the barracks of High Shore, the Tempest Order began their rotation shift for the night’s watch. Lord Commander Gauwyn Endhelm had his men stand in a line and inspected them as he marched from end to end, stopping at the last guard. This was the newest recruit, a Dragonborn who went by the name of Torach. “So, you’re the new recruit?” He looked at Torach up and down, he could tell that he was strong and could see why the cleric had sent him to enlist in the Order. “Father Edgar sang praises about your assistance to the church this past week. He’s the reason you’re here. Pray you don’t disappoint,” he turned from Torach and walked ten paces to the middle of them all and spun to face them.
“Listen up!” his deep voice boomed “I want all of you on high alert tonight. We of the Order have kept the streets of High Shore in good state, but even with our efforts the vermin of the night commit their crimes. As you know, the King has ordered us to keep the streets especially clean for the following week as the festival of the Solstice is upon us,” he looked at them all with a hardened face. “I expect a full report on any criminal activity you discover in your watch tonight. Begin your duty at once!” He barked with finality and the guards began their patrol. Accompanying Torach on his watch were Thury Ashbane a rugged looking man with years of experience in the Order, and Arior Forel a serious looking woman known for being an expert marksman.
“I’ll be leading us on our watch tonight,” said Thury to Arior and Torach. “Our march will lead us into Woad Town, don’t know how familiar you are with this city newbie, but you should know that’s where the worst of the worst are holed up,” he said in a grave tone before Arior broke her normally serious expression to flash a smirk at the Dragonborn. “The perfect mission for a new recruit, eh?” The trio marched down the cobblestone streets of the city for thirty minutes before they had reached the half-way point to their destination. The city watch had done their job well it seemed as the streets were tranquil for the most part, or so they thought. A sudden commotion erupted from an alley as they reached the Short Walk district, one person bursted from the window of a second story building and climbed onto the rooftop, right after two figures came through the same window and began chasing him. “And here I thought tonight would be uneventful,” said Arior, before Thury let out an order “After them!”
Mimzy & Calsipher
In the cover of night Mimzy and Lord Fitzroy exited the back entrance of the Woad Toad and made a right, before they could make it three feet from the inn an old drunkard who exuded a mixed stench of urine with floral undertones stumbled past them offending their sense of smell. Lord Fitzroy who had now become almost entirely sober at the realization of what he’d done began to exhibit signs of panic. "I'm a dead man," he said in a weary whisper and turned to Mimzy, "My lady I am a dead man! Do you know who that was? Once the King hears about this my head will be on a spike before the morrow, but not before being broken at the wheel! Our kingdom could go to war!" He grew pale and began hyperventilating.
Ten minutes after the departure of Mimzy and the lord, Grendel Breakbones had slipped through the back entrance of the Woad Toad and made a left, this time with a heavier burden than when he arrived. The slumped corpse of the noble weighed awkwardly over his broad shoulder as he made his way through the back allies of Woad Town, a maze he was quite familiar with. In this late hour those of questionable motives began crawling out from the shadows, looking for their next victim. Even in his burdened state Grendel gave off a dangerous aura which even those who did not know of his notoriety could tell he was not one to be trifled with.
He marched on until he made it to a crossway almost to the gates, when he stopped abruptly at the sound of shouting. He looked around to see where the noise was coming from, looking up in time to witness someone make an impossible leap from one rooftop to another. More words were exchanged before two more figures leaped into the night, only these did not make their desired landing. In a loud crash the two figures smashed through a scaffolding right besides Grendel. He let out a relieved sigh, but it was short-lived, from the darkness of the alley came the clattering sound of armor heading their direction. "This way!" The commanding shouts grew louder in the distance. "There they are!" Grendel let out a curse under his breath before trying to flee.
Gust
Inside the Woad Toad Cora Dustbloom had continued with her innkeeping duties after the departure of Mimzy and the lord. She was incredibly worried at the implications of what this could mean for her and her business if word got out that a noble had been killed in her establishment. The two men had been arguing over something at the bar before taking the matter to one of the rooms. By the time she went in there to see what was going on, one of the nobles was lying on the floor with a dagger in his chest bleeding out. Terrified, she called for the only person she knew could bridge the gap from nobility to the slums of Woad Town, the one they called Mimzy. The danger of what could come still lingered in her mind but for now she would try to put that aside.
A look of actual shock took hold of Cora as she peered into the bag Gust was holding. From within it, a pair of pearl eyes wedged into the sockets of a pure platinum statue looked back at her, the statuette held the almost real likeness of a sea dragon devouring its own tail with the exception of a series of glyphs running along its serpentine body. “Gust, have you lost your wits!” She said in a hushed shout, equally excited as she was mortified at the item the genasi held in his hand. “There’s no way they won’t come after you for this! You could buy a mansion in The Gardens with this,” she warned him. “What do you plan to do with it? You know this looks like something the wizards of the Spire might be interested in.”
Prudence 'Mimzy' Nightingale
Mimzy rolled her eyes with something akin to disdain at the young lord's words as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. "And your little head will be mounted right next to it on a kabob skewer if this mummer's farce of yours in any way involves his grace's daughter... the Realm's Joy. The Realm's Ruin, more like! Was it she who the pair of you fools were fighting over? I seem to recall a similar incident not all that long ago involving the two stable boys. Wasn't that enough of a cautionary tale for you? Look how well that turned out."
As he began to hyperventilate Prudence reached out and took him gently by the hand and continued to lead him through the maze of streets and back alleys of Woad Town wanting to get him to a better part of the city where she could engage the services of a private coach to take them the rest of the way to his uncle's city house. "I shall never ever comprehend the appeal Woad Town holds for young nobles and royals. Just know had this gone the other way... then right this moment your corpse would be on its way to an inglorious end at some peasant's pig farm. Come on then, don't dawdle now, the Night Watch is sure to be about. Once I get you to your uncle then you're his problem. Explain this all to him."
Gust looked at the statuette with a great sense of pride. Besides its large coin value, it was a symbol to him. A symbol of his superior skill as a thief. If he had been a nucance to Trefort before, now he would be a problem he can’t ignore anymore.
"If that’s your reaction, Trefort’s must be worth actual gold.", he mocked while speaking to his elven friend.
But Cora brought up a good point. What should he do with this statuette now? Sell it? That would just give those thugs the opportunity to steal it again.
"Well, as much as I don’t like it, the Spire might be my best bet. After all, those mages might know something about those runes on the side. And I don’t think Trefort would dare approach that tower. He hates mages and their tricks even more than I do."
As they exchange ideas on the matter, Gust couldn’t help but notice that something felt off. It was faint, but Cora’s hand weren’t as steady as usual and her eyes seem to be shifting towards the back door every once in a while.
"Are you alright, darling? You seem stressed.", he asked with genuine concern.
An Old Trick and New Deceptions
Under the pale light of the moon stood and an old man, rugged, unclean, and clothed in burlap and string. Through his eyes Cal looked at the toad, recalling poor old “Hector”. His old emaciated body, the way he cradled his bad hand with the good one, the slow thick way each word would come out, the pain, loneliness, regret, and… the fear.
From below the blue toad a barely ambulatory “Hector” walked to the doors of the tavern opening them with his good hand, then stumbled in. Through parched lips and a tongue too thick for his mouth he uttered “Cora… Child… Bring.. this old… boy something…to wet his.. lips… while… he… can still drink,” each word started strong, thick in its enunciation, but slowed towards the end as if giving the speaker time to think before the next; a sign of an aged mind undone by an abundance of drink.
“Hector” paused, through his eyes Cal took in the room. Cora was speaking with someone, someone Cal had not see before.
(Perception: 10)
“You’re… busy, I’ll… wait.. at my… ah.. usual spot,” said the drunk as he hobbled towards the bar, then proceeded to struggled as he sat on a stool with uneven legs.
“Hector, an old client ravaged by drink and age. You feel pity for him, and humor him with a drink every so often, a kindness that’s all… An old drunk who can’t even remember what he ate yesterday little importance and even lesser consequence. That is what you’ll say if asked, and nothing more... and Cora, remember… I’m always listening.” Whispered Cal into Cora's head, as “Hector” looked behind the counter for something drink.
(Performance: 12 and/or 19 if Actor feat is applicable)
OOC: Hello, I edited the post due to some typos and some needed clarification at the end to indicate that I was using my psionic speech with the NPC, I refreshed the post due to it not loading and the dice rolls changed. I'm happy to reroll them. Once again I rolled without it being requested by the DM.