You’ve recently been hired and assigned to patrol the city of together. Neverwinter is a city divided — quite literally. Part of the metropolis is magnificent, with breathtaking architecture, marvelous spires, and opulent decorations. And amid that beauty is a terrible scar caused by the eruption of Mount Hotenow years before. Citizens are still rebuilding from that disaster, largely thanks to the extra taxes Lord Neverember levies against the wealthy. The city’s poorer residents benefit from the rebuilding work and live in hope that the artisans and builders in the City of Skilled Hands can turn their home into the Jewel of the North once again.
The first few days of the patrol pass quietly – breaking up the occasional hot-headed argument or drunken brawl. Nothing your group of experienced adventurers can’t handle. One morning, though, you get a note from the Taskmaster – at least, that’s what everybody calls Deon Asharrow, Lord Neverember’s head of militia.
“I need you to do a little extra work for me. It shouldn’t be too taxing. I have a contact in Neverwinter who’s secured a cache of treasure. Her name is Oppal DeScart, and you can usually find her in a tavern in the Bluelake District known as the Stable Quiver. She’s a shapeshifter, so I can’t say for sure what she’ll look like when you locate her. You can suss her out with the passphrase “That’s a big hen house,” and she should reply with “Only to a small fox.” When you locate her, tell her that it’s safe to “Move the cargo along the Platinum Road.” And that’s it. - Asharrow”
The Stable Quiver is a nondescript, well-built tavern in the Bluelake District, an area that covers the northwest part of the city. The tavern boasts a mixed clientele of lesser nobles, artisans, middle-class merchants, and skilled laborers. It’s a perfect meeting place for citizens engaged in activities they wish to keep out of the public eye. The low-life element normally eschews the place, except in cases where they meet with the tavern’s regular patrons — who are no less criminal in many cases.
A cloaked drow enters the room. His skin is far darker than the average drow's... it almost seems like he is made of pure shadow. His face is impossible to see. Like always.
Most of Neverwinter has heard of Aranix, at this point. An elite bounty hunter for Lord Neverember, and a master of the dead, or so they say. There have been sightings, according to the conspiracy theorists, of Aranix dragging dead bodies to his abode. Those in town know to avoid him, and--when targeted, to answer his questions very carefully. And accurately.
He sits down. These things take time, as Aranix knows. He looks around the room, checking out the patrons. He draws a dagger, and fiddles with it as he waits.
Alcyone is already sat atop a lone round table in the tavern, her feet resting in one of the chairs as she casually scans the guests of the tavern. It wasn't completely unlike the inn she called home just a few minutes walk in town. She waits for the rest of the crew on the assignment, but also curiously wondering which of these tavern-goers could be this Oppal DeScart they were meant to find. She had adjusted to life working for Neverember quite well. It wasn't something she could have ever seen herself doing before, but was never one to back down from a new opportunity.
And she had become quite good at her job if she did say so herself. She may not be the best fighter, but she could deescalate a fight like nobody's business.
Her eyes follow Aranix and her small smile widens into a good-hearted grin as he sits down, but still looking almost as if she was in on a joke only she herself knew.
"Hey you!" She greeted him, gently tapping the dagger he drew with the tip of her boot. Before joining the patrol, she'd heard of his name in passing, had heard the rumors whispered when his name came up. But she knew enough about the gossip of the town to ignore it most of the time. She assumed if there were supposed bodies stashed in the fellow's home, the topic would reveal itself when it was of importance. Still he seemed nice enough, all things considering. He had a dark and imposing first impression, maybe brought on by his unique appearance. His seriousness and dangerous aura made her all the more intrigued and itching to jest and poke at it. Almost as if it was her side mission to get a rise out of him. As she next spoke her words came out in a long drawl.
"Would you perhaps care for a song while we wait?" Without waiting for a response she drew her dulcimer and promptly laid it on her lap and lazily began to run through chords in an upbeat manner. Really just looking for a way to keep her hands busy.
Katarina is lounging by the fireplace, her tail flicking back and forth as the feline basks in the warmth.
She isn't particularly big for a Tabaxi... in fact, she's a little bit on the smaller side. But she has an incredibly athletic physique. Though she is currently reduced to simple mercenary work, her clothing is much finer than one would expect from a commoner. Fine silk garments, gold chains, and gemstones make it clear that the feline comes from an affluent background, as does her way of speaking. In all honesty, it is perhaps little short of a miracle that she hasn't been robbed blind already, considering the combination of her less-than-subtle displays of affluence and her current humble line of work.
Though she wasn't perhaps the intended target of the question, Katarina's ears perk up when Alcyone mentions a song.
"Yes, Katarina would certainly enjoy a merry tune!" the feline says, inviting herself into the conversation.
Vanizi hurries into the tavern, stopping in the doorway to scan for the others. An older halfling, hunched over a bit with age, nearly runs straight into her. "Oh my! Apologies sir, I was not paying proper attention." She quickly moves out of the way, finding a safer spot for her observations. Eventually she sees where Aranix and Alcyone are sitting and cautiously picks her way over to the pair.
The green-skinned half-orc is dressed in rather simple clothes, studded leather, and sturdy boots. A fairly utilitarian looks, although the leather is meticulously maintained. As usual though, she stands out due to the orange-colored ends of some of her hair and the thin bright pink streaks on top. Somewhat awkwardly, she slips into a seat, smiling at the others through her prominent tusks. "Any sign of the woman yet?" she asks quietly, trying not to interrupt Alcyone's music too much.
Having joined up with the others, she now starts to look about the room again. With the first female figure her eyes fall upon, she wonders, 'Is that her?' But then there's another woman over there. 'Maybe that's her.' Quickly the list grows in her head.
Alcyone smiles brightly at the half-orc, although rather intimidating to her at first, she'd thoroughly enjoyed her presence the few times they patrolled together and found her quite charming so far. "Hmm, not that I've seen. Not that I've really put in any effort yet. I didn't want to jump into the fun before the crew got here."
When Katarina joined in Alcyone nodded easily. "Of course, of course. Why am I here if not at least to set the ambiance?" She had also found herself admiring the tabaxi through her newfound career. She always loved her done-up attire and appearance. She'd have to persuade her to help Alcyone find nice clothing to perform in. A nice outfit could be the difference to make a successful performance, monetarily speaking.
"How do you all suppose we should plan to find this Oppal? You don't think shouting our line into the crowd would be a good idea? See who shouts back?"
The door to the Stable Quiver bangs as a petite half-elf with long white hair enters and her cheeks immediately become flushed as she did not mean to draw the attention of the place with the noise and Halyqwyn attempts to quickly enter and find her new friends.
The sounds and smells of the tavern quickly remind her of the inn a few minutes walk away though she had never heard of this place. She smiles at the warmth of the fire and as the din returns to a murmur once the stares of the patrons return to whatever they were doing she relaxes. After a few moments, the sound of Alcyone's dulcimer reaches her and her smile grows into a grin.
The woman is dressed in brown leathers with a dark blue cloak fitted over her shoulders. This is fastened with a broach that bears a pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars, and this symbol is also etched upon the shield that is attached to the pack at her back. Her warhammer swings at her side as she moves between the tables, muttering her "Pardon me, excuse me" as she goes. When Halyqwyn finally reaches the group, she takes a quick headcount and thinks, Oh good, I'm not last. Wait.. that halfling can be hard to spot... nope, unless he's trying to hide!
"So..." and she plops into one of the empty chairs, "That's a big hen house? What a strange way to introduce one's self.. Anyone have a good idea where to start?"
She then looks around to see if anyone appears open to conversation.
Aranix narrows his eyes. “Yes—we want to attract the attention of this Oppal character, without shouting about our mission across this tavern. After all, it was given in secret…
How might we do this? I suggest we cause a scene. Maybe somebody telling a story, a little louder than you might expect. Maybe the climax. And we’d all laugh at the end, as if something funny was said.”
“Not hiding, I’m right behind you” Davis says to Halyqwyn, as he followed her through the Quiver. When he gets to the table, he throws his Warhammer onto the table and takes a seat. The hammer smashes against Vanizi’s drink breaking the glass.
Davis immediately grabs the hammer and sputters an apology “I’m very sorry, that was rude and inappropriate. I’ll be right back.“
Off he goes to the bar, to remedy his mistake. He returns with a plater of drinks and sets them down. “Again, my apologies.” He looks at Alycone, “Sorry, please continue.”
Davis takes a seat. He is a handsome, young, and strong halfling male. He wears his armor and carries his hammer with pride. He hasn’t shared much with his new companions, but they mean more to him than they realize. To say that he was at a crossroads of his life would be an understatement.
He scans the room, but his eyes are unfocused, as he fidgets with this ring. Those who spend a few minutes looking at him realize.
He never looks at the ring on his finger. The ring is on his thumb, the traditional location for a halfling who has just been married. The ring seems to be metallic, perhaps wood. Those few moments when he is not twisting it, you catch the glint of gold, silver, and other colors.
As the others turn away from him, not expecting much more from him, as he has offered very little, he says "Hen House. Let’s just yell it and see who shows up.”
He jumps on the bar, looks at Alycone, “What do you say, play me a song, and I’ll sing the line?”
He waits for the others to agree. For those looking, they would notice two things about him in that moment, a tear making its slow journey down his face from his left eye, and a smile on his lips.
“I’m actually quite amiable, normally” he says, to no one in particular, “But I’m tired of drunks and the other nonsense we’ve been dealing with. Let’s find this Oppal, let’s do some real good.”
He looks out across the Stable Quiver, waiting for his new companions to give him the go ahead, or tell him to sit down. Luckily, at three feet tall, only those close by can see his dramatic presentation.
Alcyone placed a hand on Halyqwyn's arm in greeting, before returning it to her dulcimer; she was one of her first friends she'd made this time in her visit to Neverwinter.
The greeting was quickly interrupted by Davis's entrance, and Alcyone couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh loudly, and patted him on the back in sympathy when he returns with the drinks.
She continues her soft playing as she listens to his proposal. She readies herself to join him on the bar, but waits to hear the input and ideas from the others. Usually she wouldn't hesitate, but she still felt out of place and out of her depth in this new line of work and it left her feeling anxious. The last thing she wanted to do was somehow ruin the whole operation.
Vanizi is a bit startled when Davis' hammer shatters her glass. She readily accepts his apology though. "Sir, it was clearly a mistake." As he goes toward the bar she carefully tries to wipe up as much of the spilled liquid as she can, taking care to avoid the scattered bits of glass. When he returns with drinks she quickly thanks him. "My thanks to you. But sir, you might want to refrain from placing your hammer on our table in the future."It said with a smile, and with no hint of insult.
At Davis' suggestion to sing a song, she seems a bit reluctant. "How would someone reply if you did that? It seems something more subtle might be required. I don't mind making some rounds."
As the lunch hour is near, the Stable Quiver is nearly full. Every table has guests, and only a few seats at the bar are open. You estimate there are about 50 other people in the large room - 25 males, 15 females, and 10 who, honestly, could be either! For those who frequent this establishment, you see the barkeep, Squid (so-called by the locals because of a squid-shaped birthmark on his face), and his serving crew - his children of about 10 and 12 and a third young lady in her early 20's - working to keep up with orders.
"Oh! Hey Davis." and she cringes as the halfling bangs the warhammer on the table. She shrinks back a bit as the glass shatters and attention is brought back to their table. She smiles warmly at Alcyone when she squeezes her arm. Once Davis returns and takes a seat, Halyqwyn relaxes a bit.
She watches her friend Alcyone hesitate when Davis wants to break out in song to find who they are looking for. She doesn't blame her, the place is packed. She turns to Vanizi, "I'd tend to agree with you, I thought this was supposed to be down low? I mean, we can start heading to some tables and ask the question? Ooh.. how about pay some of the serving kids to do it? They need to hit the tables anyways?"
Aranix shakes his head. "No. We want this to be as inconspicuous as possible. Asking questions randomly won't do it; there could be some... ah... unsavory people here, who would sense something strange, and potentially even sell us out. And since we can't wipe the memories of anyone who hears, it'd be best to simply blend the code phrase into a scene, or a story, told loud enough to be heard broadly."
Aranix turns his attention to the servers. He studies them closely, taking note of whatever he can. Perhaps one of the servers was this Oppal character they were seeking. If not, well, more information never hurts.
DM: Should I roll for Perception or Investigation? I'll just roll a d20 here, and we can add whichever modifier I would use.
Katarina stifles a giggle at the rather unusual scene of the mug-smashing halfling.
"Perhaps it is too late for it now, all things considered," she says. "But Katarina thinks that subtlety may be the best path right now... Katarina quite likes the idea to give some copper to the barmaids to find our contact for us without causing a scene."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
"I think that could possibly be a start. If anyone were to notice strangers who hadn't visited the tavern before, it would be one of the staff." Alcyone nods in Katarina's direction in agreement. She also follows suit and gives the servers and the corners of the room, looking for anybody who seems to be alone, looking around, or maybe out of place in anyway. Maybe a server who didn't actually seem to know what they were doing.
Alcyone notices that the two children are perfectly at ease taking orders and running the food and beverages back to the tables. The older server seems to be rather new at this, occasionally mixing up or forgetting orders.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
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You’ve recently been hired and assigned to patrol the city of together. Neverwinter is a city divided — quite literally. Part of the metropolis is magnificent, with breathtaking architecture, marvelous spires, and opulent decorations. And amid that beauty is a terrible scar caused by the eruption of Mount Hotenow years before. Citizens are still rebuilding from that disaster, largely thanks to the extra taxes Lord Neverember levies against the wealthy. The city’s poorer residents benefit from the rebuilding work and live in hope that the artisans and builders in the City of Skilled Hands can turn their home into the Jewel of the North once again.
The first few days of the patrol pass quietly – breaking up the occasional hot-headed argument or drunken brawl. Nothing your group of experienced adventurers can’t handle. One morning, though, you get a note from the Taskmaster – at least, that’s what everybody calls Deon Asharrow, Lord Neverember’s head of militia.
“I need you to do a little extra work for me. It shouldn’t be too taxing. I have a contact in Neverwinter who’s secured a cache of treasure. Her name is Oppal DeScart, and you can usually find her in a tavern in the Bluelake District known as the Stable Quiver. She’s a shapeshifter, so I can’t say for sure what she’ll look like when you locate her. You can suss her out with the passphrase “That’s a big hen house,” and she should reply with “Only to a small fox.” When you locate her, tell her that it’s safe to “Move the cargo along the Platinum Road.” And that’s it. - Asharrow”
The Stable Quiver is a nondescript, well-built tavern in the Bluelake District, an area that covers the northwest part of the city. The tavern boasts a mixed clientele of lesser nobles, artisans, middle-class merchants, and skilled laborers. It’s a perfect meeting place for citizens engaged in activities they wish to keep out of the public eye. The low-life element normally eschews the place, except in cases where they meet with the tavern’s regular patrons — who are no less criminal in many cases.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
A cloaked drow enters the room. His skin is far darker than the average drow's... it almost seems like he is made of pure shadow. His face is impossible to see. Like always.
Most of Neverwinter has heard of Aranix, at this point. An elite bounty hunter for Lord Neverember, and a master of the dead, or so they say. There have been sightings, according to the conspiracy theorists, of Aranix dragging dead bodies to his abode. Those in town know to avoid him, and--when targeted, to answer his questions very carefully. And accurately.
He sits down. These things take time, as Aranix knows. He looks around the room, checking out the patrons. He draws a dagger, and fiddles with it as he waits.
DMing:
Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
Playing:
None sadly.
Optimization Guides:
Literally Too Angry to Die - A Guide to Optimizing a Barbarian
Alcyone is already sat atop a lone round table in the tavern, her feet resting in one of the chairs as she casually scans the guests of the tavern. It wasn't completely unlike the inn she called home just a few minutes walk in town. She waits for the rest of the crew on the assignment, but also curiously wondering which of these tavern-goers could be this Oppal DeScart they were meant to find. She had adjusted to life working for Neverember quite well. It wasn't something she could have ever seen herself doing before, but was never one to back down from a new opportunity.
And she had become quite good at her job if she did say so herself. She may not be the best fighter, but she could deescalate a fight like nobody's business.
Her eyes follow Aranix and her small smile widens into a good-hearted grin as he sits down, but still looking almost as if she was in on a joke only she herself knew.
"Hey you!" She greeted him, gently tapping the dagger he drew with the tip of her boot. Before joining the patrol, she'd heard of his name in passing, had heard the rumors whispered when his name came up. But she knew enough about the gossip of the town to ignore it most of the time. She assumed if there were supposed bodies stashed in the fellow's home, the topic would reveal itself when it was of importance. Still he seemed nice enough, all things considering. He had a dark and imposing first impression, maybe brought on by his unique appearance. His seriousness and dangerous aura made her all the more intrigued and itching to jest and poke at it. Almost as if it was her side mission to get a rise out of him. As she next spoke her words came out in a long drawl.
"Would you perhaps care for a song while we wait?" Without waiting for a response she drew her dulcimer and promptly laid it on her lap and lazily began to run through chords in an upbeat manner. Really just looking for a way to keep her hands busy.
Katarina is lounging by the fireplace, her tail flicking back and forth as the feline basks in the warmth.
She isn't particularly big for a Tabaxi... in fact, she's a little bit on the smaller side. But she has an incredibly athletic physique. Though she is currently reduced to simple mercenary work, her clothing is much finer than one would expect from a commoner. Fine silk garments, gold chains, and gemstones make it clear that the feline comes from an affluent background, as does her way of speaking. In all honesty, it is perhaps little short of a miracle that she hasn't been robbed blind already, considering the combination of her less-than-subtle displays of affluence and her current humble line of work.
Though she wasn't perhaps the intended target of the question, Katarina's ears perk up when Alcyone mentions a song.
"Yes, Katarina would certainly enjoy a merry tune!" the feline says, inviting herself into the conversation.
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Provide feedback!
Vanizi hurries into the tavern, stopping in the doorway to scan for the others. An older halfling, hunched over a bit with age, nearly runs straight into her. "Oh my! Apologies sir, I was not paying proper attention." She quickly moves out of the way, finding a safer spot for her observations. Eventually she sees where Aranix and Alcyone are sitting and cautiously picks her way over to the pair.
The green-skinned half-orc is dressed in rather simple clothes, studded leather, and sturdy boots. A fairly utilitarian looks, although the leather is meticulously maintained. As usual though, she stands out due to the orange-colored ends of some of her hair and the thin bright pink streaks on top. Somewhat awkwardly, she slips into a seat, smiling at the others through her prominent tusks. "Any sign of the woman yet?" she asks quietly, trying not to interrupt Alcyone's music too much.
Having joined up with the others, she now starts to look about the room again. With the first female figure her eyes fall upon, she wonders, 'Is that her?' But then there's another woman over there. 'Maybe that's her.' Quickly the list grows in her head.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Alcyone smiles brightly at the half-orc, although rather intimidating to her at first, she'd thoroughly enjoyed her presence the few times they patrolled together and found her quite charming so far. "Hmm, not that I've seen. Not that I've really put in any effort yet. I didn't want to jump into the fun before the crew got here."
When Katarina joined in Alcyone nodded easily. "Of course, of course. Why am I here if not at least to set the ambiance?" She had also found herself admiring the tabaxi through her newfound career. She always loved her done-up attire and appearance. She'd have to persuade her to help Alcyone find nice clothing to perform in. A nice outfit could be the difference to make a successful performance, monetarily speaking.
"How do you all suppose we should plan to find this Oppal? You don't think shouting our line into the crowd would be a good idea? See who shouts back?"
The door to the Stable Quiver bangs as a petite half-elf with long white hair enters and her cheeks immediately become flushed as she did not mean to draw the attention of the place with the noise and Halyqwyn attempts to quickly enter and find her new friends.
The sounds and smells of the tavern quickly remind her of the inn a few minutes walk away though she had never heard of this place. She smiles at the warmth of the fire and as the din returns to a murmur once the stares of the patrons return to whatever they were doing she relaxes. After a few moments, the sound of Alcyone's dulcimer reaches her and her smile grows into a grin.
The woman is dressed in brown leathers with a dark blue cloak fitted over her shoulders. This is fastened with a broach that bears a pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars, and this symbol is also etched upon the shield that is attached to the pack at her back. Her warhammer swings at her side as she moves between the tables, muttering her "Pardon me, excuse me" as she goes. When Halyqwyn finally reaches the group, she takes a quick headcount and thinks, Oh good, I'm not last. Wait.. that halfling can be hard to spot... nope, unless he's trying to hide!
"So..." and she plops into one of the empty chairs, "That's a big hen house? What a strange way to introduce one's self.. Anyone have a good idea where to start?"
She then looks around to see if anyone appears open to conversation.
Perception: 13
Aranix narrows his eyes. “Yes—we want to attract the attention of this Oppal character, without shouting about our mission across this tavern. After all, it was given in secret…
How might we do this? I suggest we cause a scene. Maybe somebody telling a story, a little louder than you might expect. Maybe the climax. And we’d all laugh at the end, as if something funny was said.”
DMing:
Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
Playing:
None sadly.
Optimization Guides:
Literally Too Angry to Die - A Guide to Optimizing a Barbarian
“Not hiding, I’m right behind you” Davis says to Halyqwyn, as he followed her through the Quiver. When he gets to the table, he throws his Warhammer onto the table and takes a seat. The hammer smashes against Vanizi’s drink breaking the glass.
Davis immediately grabs the hammer and sputters an apology “I’m very sorry, that was rude and inappropriate. I’ll be right back.“
Off he goes to the bar, to remedy his mistake. He returns with a plater of drinks and sets them down. “Again, my apologies.” He looks at Alycone, “Sorry, please continue.”
Davis takes a seat. He is a handsome, young, and strong halfling male. He wears his armor and carries his hammer with pride. He hasn’t shared much with his new companions, but they mean more to him than they realize. To say that he was at a crossroads of his life would be an understatement.
He scans the room, but his eyes are unfocused, as he fidgets with this ring. Those who spend a few minutes looking at him realize.
He never looks at the ring on his finger. The ring is on his thumb, the traditional location for a halfling who has just been married. The ring seems to be metallic, perhaps wood. Those few moments when he is not twisting it, you catch the glint of gold, silver, and other colors.
As the others turn away from him, not expecting much more from him, as he has offered very little, he says "Hen House. Let’s just yell it and see who shows up.”
He jumps on the bar, looks at Alycone, “What do you say, play me a song, and I’ll sing the line?”
He waits for the others to agree. For those looking, they would notice two things about him in that moment, a tear making its slow journey down his face from his left eye, and a smile on his lips.
“I’m actually quite amiable, normally” he says, to no one in particular, “But I’m tired of drunks and the other nonsense we’ve been dealing with. Let’s find this Oppal, let’s do some real good.”
He looks out across the Stable Quiver, waiting for his new companions to give him the go ahead, or tell him to sit down. Luckily, at three feet tall, only those close by can see his dramatic presentation.
Alcyone placed a hand on Halyqwyn's arm in greeting, before returning it to her dulcimer; she was one of her first friends she'd made this time in her visit to Neverwinter.
The greeting was quickly interrupted by Davis's entrance, and Alcyone couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh loudly, and patted him on the back in sympathy when he returns with the drinks.
She continues her soft playing as she listens to his proposal. She readies herself to join him on the bar, but waits to hear the input and ideas from the others. Usually she wouldn't hesitate, but she still felt out of place and out of her depth in this new line of work and it left her feeling anxious. The last thing she wanted to do was somehow ruin the whole operation.
Vanizi is a bit startled when Davis' hammer shatters her glass. She readily accepts his apology though. "Sir, it was clearly a mistake." As he goes toward the bar she carefully tries to wipe up as much of the spilled liquid as she can, taking care to avoid the scattered bits of glass. When he returns with drinks she quickly thanks him. "My thanks to you. But sir, you might want to refrain from placing your hammer on our table in the future." It said with a smile, and with no hint of insult.
At Davis' suggestion to sing a song, she seems a bit reluctant. "How would someone reply if you did that? It seems something more subtle might be required. I don't mind making some rounds."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
As the lunch hour is near, the Stable Quiver is nearly full. Every table has guests, and only a few seats at the bar are open. You estimate there are about 50 other people in the large room - 25 males, 15 females, and 10 who, honestly, could be either! For those who frequent this establishment, you see the barkeep, Squid (so-called by the locals because of a squid-shaped birthmark on his face), and his serving crew - his children of about 10 and 12 and a third young lady in her early 20's - working to keep up with orders.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
"Oh! Hey Davis." and she cringes as the halfling bangs the warhammer on the table. She shrinks back a bit as the glass shatters and attention is brought back to their table. She smiles warmly at Alcyone when she squeezes her arm. Once Davis returns and takes a seat, Halyqwyn relaxes a bit.
She watches her friend Alcyone hesitate when Davis wants to break out in song to find who they are looking for. She doesn't blame her, the place is packed. She turns to Vanizi, "I'd tend to agree with you, I thought this was supposed to be down low? I mean, we can start heading to some tables and ask the question? Ooh.. how about pay some of the serving kids to do it? They need to hit the tables anyways?"
Davis hops down from the table, inwardly glad he didn't just start singing. He's not even sure what triggered the whole idea.
"Yeah, subtlety is probably for the best." he says, and grabs a drink. The drink never makes it to his lips, he just holds it, lost in a thought.
Aranix shakes his head. "No. We want this to be as inconspicuous as possible. Asking questions randomly won't do it; there could be some... ah... unsavory people here, who would sense something strange, and potentially even sell us out. And since we can't wipe the memories of anyone who hears, it'd be best to simply blend the code phrase into a scene, or a story, told loud enough to be heard broadly."
Aranix turns his attention to the servers. He studies them closely, taking note of whatever he can. Perhaps one of the servers was this Oppal character they were seeking. If not, well, more information never hurts.
DM: Should I roll for Perception or Investigation? I'll just roll a d20 here, and we can add whichever modifier I would use.
DMing:
Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
Playing:
None sadly.
Optimization Guides:
Literally Too Angry to Die - A Guide to Optimizing a Barbarian
18
DMing:
Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
Playing:
None sadly.
Optimization Guides:
Literally Too Angry to Die - A Guide to Optimizing a Barbarian
Aranix is distracted by a large splash of ale in his lap that Vanizi misses as she tries to clean up the mess...
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
Katarina stifles a giggle at the rather unusual scene of the mug-smashing halfling.
"Perhaps it is too late for it now, all things considered," she says. "But Katarina thinks that subtlety may be the best path right now... Katarina quite likes the idea to give some copper to the barmaids to find our contact for us without causing a scene."
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"I think that could possibly be a start. If anyone were to notice strangers who hadn't visited the tavern before, it would be one of the staff." Alcyone nods in Katarina's direction in agreement. She also follows suit and gives the servers and the corners of the room, looking for anybody who seems to be alone, looking around, or maybe out of place in anyway. Maybe a server who didn't actually seem to know what they were doing.
Perception: 16
Alcyone notices that the two children are perfectly at ease taking orders and running the food and beverages back to the tables. The older server seems to be rather new at this, occasionally mixing up or forgetting orders.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?