Madame Freona’s Tea Kettle (and Freona herself) is a mystery to many. In the tumultuous city of Phlan, this is a place where people can go to have a drink or meal and escape the tensions of the schemers and the power-hungry. With the Tea Kettle’s reputation as a haven, adventurers who can be discreet and behave themselves can often find employment there.
You were told that Madame Freona’s Tea Kettle was the place where adventurers could find work and avoid the hassle associated with other places in Phlan. So far, that has been true. Madame Freona, a stout and officious halfling who runs the establishment with her five daughters, has proven to be an excellent hostess.
Although you have had to share a common bunkroom with several other adventurers, tonight's evening meal was excellent and the atmosphere pleasant. You are preparing to bunk down for the evening when one of Freona’s daughters peeks into the room. She calls several of the adventurers, including you, into the hall.
“Pardon my interruption,” says the halfling girl named Reece, one of Freona’s five daughters, just shy of adulthood.“A chap just came into the common room downstairs and asked me to fetch you. Something about some coin needing to change hands for an easy job.” She plays with her curly red hair nervously.
Our Party:
Arnald the Keen: Variant Human Fighter Ola do Mari: Water Genasi Paladin Otger Truthspeaker: Variant Human Cleric (Life Domain) Ruik Earthbeard: Hill Dwarf Druid Sylyra Wasanthi: Wood Elf Druid Uragum: Goliath Wizard Zelra Vitale: Half-Elf Rogue
OOC: With your first post, describe and introduce your character while responding to the situation. You may be new to Phlan, or this might be a familiar city to you. You might be all fresh faces with each other, or may know each other from past adventures.
An almost extraordinarily normal looking half elf with no distinct features and the colour palette of a pile of wood sits on a bed with her hands and legs crossed. In her hands, she tightly grips at a fairly empty pouch.
As Zelra's name is called, she flinches very visibly and grips at her pouch even tighter. To others who didn't know her, she seems to be a very cautious and on edge type of person, a hood and a scarf covering her face most, if not all, of the time. Otger, however, would notice this is the complete opposite of her usual laid back personality.
She slowly gets up from the bed, never letting go of the pouch. As the young halfling explains who called them and why, she seems to relax a little and clears her throat.
Ruik sat back in his bunk puffing on a pipe. He did his best to cover the stink of so many bodies so close together. When the knock on the door came and the invitation to come downstairs given Ruik swung his legs out and got to his feet.
As Ruik stands you see he is 4 feet in height. He grabs his fur lined jacket putting his leather armor back on. He buckles a sword to his waist and lifts a wooden shield off of the bed. You see that he isn't as thick as most dwarves are. His hair and beard are long and the color of the earth. There is no gray.
Swinging a pack over his shoulder he heads out of the room and downstairs. As he passes Reece he gives her a nod.
As he makes his way into the common room he takes a look around and then finds a seat.
The girl on the corner bed - the farthest from the door - was Zelra's opposite inconspicuousness-wise. She looked like an elf - quite fragile elf, but elf - but painted in blue: light blue skin, blue hair, big blue eyes - blue. Her simple chain mail, that she wore all day long as if always expecting an attack, was shiny enough to compliment the colour palette, but otherwise unremarkable. So is her weapon.
If she was seeking an employment, she was doing it wrong - leaving before dawn, coming back late afternoons and shying away from any personal interactions. But when she was here, she looked and listen as if learning about life around.
When Reece came to the room, the girl was polishing her sword.
"Fetch me?" In her voice (also kind of "blue" - some sort of overtone reminding of water streams) was a note of hope. She rushed out sheathing her sword on the way.
Uragum opened his at the mention of work and coin. He had been sitting across legged at the side of the room meditating. Not because he needed to but because as he stood up to full height he found precious little room at his towering 7 and a half foot tall height.
Once up, he smoothed out the wrinkles of his plain tan shirt and readjusted the fur cloak he wore. He started out the room after the others and ducked his head slightly to get under the door frame. As he walked down the hall his hand instinctually went to his side and patted the tone that was hung there just under his shirt. It was a sturdy leather bound book with an iron ringlet in the corner with a heavy chain that ran through it and then around Uragum's waist.
Otger had only just started to settle down in the room and was about to start removing his chain mail gloves when Reece wiped all thought of getting out of his armor out of his mind. He sighs softly and looks over to Zelra finding comfort in having her name called as well though she didn't seem the same as before.
Otger is an older human male that is quite obviously a cleric. He wears chain mail that is covered by his vestments which he seems to wear at all times. A gauntlet painted on the from with an eye in the center of the fist marks him as a follower of Helm. He has a simple leather pouch attached to his belt that holds his prayer book.
Turning to Zelra he says, "Off we go then, hope this doesn't take too long."
"It's about time. I've been here for 3 days looking for work. Unheard of for someone of my talents." Arnald mutters as he walks toward the door. Just before he leaves the room, a hawk lifts off from the bedpost and glides over to Arnald settling on his shoulder, blending well with the various shades of brown. Arnold's clothing and armor are of fine cut but with emphasis on functional rather than flashy. Arnald swaggers into the common room as if he owns the place and looks at those already assembled and the prospective employer and weighs them with his eyes for just a moment before making a slight bow,
"I am Arnald the Keen. No doubt you've heard of me. I am one of, if not the, greatest archers in the land. If you have something or someone that needs an arrow it in, I am at your service."
With that Arnald finds a chair toward the edge of the gathering and has a seat. His hawk still perched on his shoulder.
After the others have left the room, Sylyra sighs and slowly gets to his feet. Tall and thin, the elf is blond headed and copper skinned. Beautiful himself, he's dressed in immaculate leathers carved with vines and other plants. Over that, he wears a green hooded half cloak. He's an interesting chap. The rumors are that he came into town a month ago spending money like a lord, but here he is now, sleeping among everyday adventurers. His attitude hasn't changed much, though. Any with little patience for it have found him irritating as he continues speaking like he's more important than everyone else. The only creature in the room he's shown any real respect to is the hawk of all things! Those with softer hearts pity him. What's his story? He always looks like he's waiting for something that hasn't come yet.
Sylyra takes a moment to peek at his reflection in the tiny glass hung on the wall of the bunk room then retrieves the carved staff from under his bunk. It is as tall as he, made of blond wood, and decorated as his armor is with vines and other plants. On one end is attached a leather thong with a sprig of mistletoe. As he glides into the hall, a smile brightens his face just before his eyes meet Reece's. "No interruption, Reece," Sylyra says, having no trouble remembering the young girl's name. "Thank you for letting ... us know," he says, stressing the pronoun with a bit of annoyance. "You say the gentleman is waiting downstairs?" When she nods, he turns and heads for the stairs, his chin aloft.
When Zelra asks the chap's name, Reece responds, "I'm sorry, he didn't say. And I couldn't see his face very well. He keeps his hood down low."
The young halfling grabs a few empty plates from the evening meal and dashes off toward the kitchen, leaving the adventurers alone with a mysterious hooded figure.
"I see the rumors of Madame Freona's repute for adventurers are true." The figure keeps his face obscured by his hood and speaks in a low voice, obviously disguising it.
When Ruik asks about the job, he explains, "I am a member of the Harpers. We are dedicated to fighting evil, wherever it hides." He displays a brooch with an insignia of a harp surrounded by a crescent moon.
"I have a mission that you are in a unique position to complete. We have captured a merchant that was trying to illegally purchase a red dragon egg. I would like you to pose as the merchant and her hirelings, go to the buy site, make the transaction, and place a magical device on one of the sellers so that our organization can track them back to their place of residence," he explains. The hood turns, as if the man beneath is scanning each adventurer that stands before him. "Well...that is fortunate," he mutters as his gaze falls over Zelra.
"You bear enough of a resemblance to the merchant we captured that the sellers should be easily fooled. I trust the rest of you can find roles to play; bodyguards, assistants, porters, you know the types," he says.
So... this is how these things work? A tavern-keeper's daughter calls your name, you join a bunch of strangers (half-strangers, she lived with them here for several days, knew their names and to some even said "hello" a couple of times), and - off you go to some adventure? Who even decides if they can work together? But one has to start somewhere.
Ola did not say a word (she did not know "the types" anyway) but turned to Zelra with an obvious question in her eyes - how do we do it?
Uragum listened carefully, and thought about the play. Pose as a group of merchants, plant something magical help them track and do it without suspicion. It sounded straight forward but it never was. Especially, with a new group. Oh well he thought.
He turned his head to his shoulder to the sound of loud cracking as his vertebra popped. He then took off his furs and removed his shirt revealing dark yet chiselled body with white flowing marks across his skin. He then put back on his furs which did little to cover his muscular torso. Then stuffing his shirt into his pack. He pulled out his bladed gauntlet and strapped it on. He then says, "There, now I'm ready... One merchant body guard down. Now let's talk coin."
As their gaze lands on Zelra, she stiffens a bit once before eventually letting out a sigh of relief at his explanation. Shrugging, she says "Of course it would be me. Do you have any information that would help me pose as the merchant better? Name, history, personality, appearance etc etc. Any information about the buyers, where we're going. Is this an organisation or just two parties making a deal? Feel free to tell me everything you know. I'd rather not die."
As soon as the stranger in the hood begins speaking, Sylyra selects a chair and sits, clearly impatient with the whole situation. He halfheartedly listens, but when the stranger picks out Zelra to play the part of the merchant, and the others begin playing along, Sylyra scoffs. He stands and taps his staff once on the floor to garner the group's attention. "You summon us without a proper greeting. You give not your name, nor do you show us your face. You even affect an accent to hide your voice, and you expect us to trust you? Is someone here who may vouch for your reputation? Your honesty? How do we know you're not enlisting us to carry out some nefarious scheme which might land us all in prison?" One of the group points out that the stranger identified himself as a member of the Harpers, to which Sylyra waves a hand. "He could have murdered some Harpers member — whatever they might be — and stolen their pin. That proves nothing." He looks hard at the hooded figure. "Identify yourself so that we might build some trust. Then we can discuss how we might benefit each other."
The hooded stranger sighs after Sylyra's rebuke. Bringing his hands up to the cowl of his hood, he slowly moves it back, revealing an older half-elf with close-cropped grey hair. "There. You have seen me. Remember my face if you would like," he says, still keeping his voice low.
He answers Zelra, "We don't know names. To our knowledge the seller has never met the buyer in person, and they will use no names in the transaction. The parties will refer to each other as the 'the buyer' and 'the seller'. You won't need more than your appearance, trust me on that; average build, nondescript, female human...you have that part covered. The location is an abandoned barn on the northern outskirts of Phlan."
When Uragum mentions coin, the half-elf smirks, "First, you'll need these." He drops a small leather sack onto a table and rattles it. "These are fake diamonds; basically worthless, but intricately carved to look like the real thing. They are more than good enough to pass a cursory inspection. You'll use these to buy the egg. Then, at some point during the exchange, you'll need to place this small silver pin on the seller or one of their crew. It is infused with magic, and once that is done, we will be able to scry on the sellers and learn more about their operation," he explains, placing the small pin next to the sack of diamonds.
"Once the transaction is complete, bring the egg back to the stables behind the Tea Kettle. I will meet you there and take possession of it. Under no circumstances should you fight the sellers or harm the egg. The sellers are small-time crooks. The point is to track them, so killing or capturing them will be counterproductive. Do this as instructed, successfully, and you will receive a sum of 200 gold pieces, paid upon delivery of the egg. Is this deal satisfactory? Time is growing short," he finishes.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Before hot-headed elf could add more insults, Ola interjected: "The deal is completely satisfactory" (It has to be, is not it? Or do adventures make written contracts?) She looked at Sylyra with uncertain smile: "We barely know each others names. But Madame Freona vouched for each of us to each of us and she is the witness for both sides. I believe our reputation is safe."
"I can be your second bodyguard" she looked at Zelra. "Or your assistant. I mean, I am not sure I will be convincing as a porter, but I can do that too - I am stronger than I look"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As Sylyra talks, Zelra makes a face of realisation and nods softly to herself. He makes a good point. She listens carefully as the Harper speaks, trying to discern their intentions but at the mention of the payment, her eyes light up but she quickly frowns. She keeps her voice low though she is obviously very excited. "200 gold pieces? There are seven of us here. At least make it 210 so we can split it easily."
Insight to see if they're telling the truth about their identity and the job: 21
Arnald props his feet on the table and leans his chair back onto only the back legs with a look of contemplation on his face
Perhaps it'll go smooth as silk, or perhaps it'll go sideways. If all agree, and if there's time, I'd like to go roost up in this barn before the meeting so that should the worst happen I can take care of any threats and ensure the safety of our group. Also, I agree with Zelra. 210 sounds better than 200.
Sylyra does, in fact, study the man's face as he continues. At the mention of fake diamonds, Sylyra's eyes lock on the small leather sack. He waits patiently as payment and logistics are negotiated and set, mumbling something about posing as a member of the merchant's entourage. When things seem to be in order, the blond elf smiles at the gray-haired half-elf and asks politely, "Would you perhaps allow me to inspect the false diamonds? I'm very curious."
(If he agrees:) Sylyra leans his staff against the table edge and picks up the sack of fake diamonds. He shakes a few into his palm and looks intently at them, examining how they catch the light. He then puts all but one back and holds the last between two fingers, bringing it close to his eye. Finally, putting the stone or glass or whatever it is back into the sack and placing it back on the table, the elf looks at the man. "These will do," he says in a haughty tone of voice.
(If he disagrees:) Sylyra's face quivers with suppressed emotion as he stares at the half-elf, then nods almost imperceptibly.
DM:
If the half-elf disagrees, Sylyra will want to offer to hold onto the sack for the task. That way, he can inspect the "diamonds" later. Either way, he wants to ask the half-elf when the others are distracted — perhaps as the half-elf is leaving — how the diamonds were made.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"200 gold is more than a fair reward. I am not willing or able to increase that amount. My apologies," the half-elf explains respectfully, "And I'm afraid we don't have time to negotiate. The meeting is set to begin any second now, and if you are hoping to roost in the barn you will need to beat the sellers there."
The half-elf motions for Sylyra to take a look at the diamonds, and the elf begins to examine them thoroughly.
For Zelra:
This half-elf is difficult for you to read. Whether any of this is truth or lie is your guess.
For Sylyra:
Insight: 17 Investigation: 15
The half-elf's face is very even throughout his explanations. This man is very good at hiding emotion, and whether any of this is truth or lie is your guess.
True to his word, the diamonds are good. So good, in fact, that had he not told you they were forgeries, you'd have been convinced at their legitimacy. Even looking at them now, you're almost certain that they are real - they are weighted perfectly, and they gleam in the sunlight that spills through the windows the same way as diamonds from your family's vault.
OOC: Sylyra's desire to ask about how the diamonds were made is noted. Sylyra can hang back for a moment to ask the half-elf once the party leaves.
Madame Freona’s Tea Kettle (and Freona herself) is a mystery to many. In the tumultuous city of Phlan, this is a place where people can go to have a drink or meal and escape the tensions of the schemers and the power-hungry. With the Tea Kettle’s reputation as a haven, adventurers who can be discreet and behave themselves can often find employment there.
You were told that Madame Freona’s Tea Kettle was the place where adventurers could find work and avoid the hassle associated with other places in Phlan. So far, that has been true. Madame Freona, a stout and officious halfling who runs the establishment with her five daughters, has proven to be an excellent hostess.
Although you have had to share a common bunkroom with several other adventurers, tonight's evening meal was excellent and the atmosphere pleasant. You are preparing to bunk down for the evening when one of Freona’s daughters peeks into the room. She calls several of the adventurers, including you, into the hall.
“Pardon my interruption,” says the halfling girl named Reece, one of Freona’s five daughters, just shy of adulthood. “A chap just came into the common room downstairs and asked me to fetch you. Something about some coin needing to change hands for an easy job.” She plays with her curly red hair nervously.
Our Party:
Arnald the Keen: Variant Human Fighter
Ola do Mari: Water Genasi Paladin
Otger Truthspeaker: Variant Human Cleric (Life Domain)
Ruik Earthbeard: Hill Dwarf Druid
Sylyra Wasanthi: Wood Elf Druid
Uragum: Goliath Wizard
Zelra Vitale: Half-Elf Rogue
OOC: With your first post, describe and introduce your character while responding to the situation. You may be new to Phlan, or this might be a familiar city to you. You might be all fresh faces with each other, or may know each other from past adventures.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
An almost extraordinarily normal looking half elf with no distinct features and the colour palette of a pile of wood sits on a bed with her hands and legs crossed. In her hands, she tightly grips at a fairly empty pouch.
As Zelra's name is called, she flinches very visibly and grips at her pouch even tighter. To others who didn't know her, she seems to be a very cautious and on edge type of person, a hood and a scarf covering her face most, if not all, of the time. Otger, however, would notice this is the complete opposite of her usual laid back personality.
She slowly gets up from the bed, never letting go of the pouch. As the young halfling explains who called them and why, she seems to relax a little and clears her throat.
"You know the name of this 'chap'?"
Ruik sat back in his bunk puffing on a pipe. He did his best to cover the stink of so many bodies so close together. When the knock on the door came and the invitation to come downstairs given Ruik swung his legs out and got to his feet.
As Ruik stands you see he is 4 feet in height. He grabs his fur lined jacket putting his leather armor back on. He buckles a sword to his waist and lifts a wooden shield off of the bed. You see that he isn't as thick as most dwarves are. His hair and beard are long and the color of the earth. There is no gray.
Swinging a pack over his shoulder he heads out of the room and downstairs. As he passes Reece he gives her a nod.
As he makes his way into the common room he takes a look around and then finds a seat.
"I'm lookin for work. What's the job?"
The girl on the corner bed - the farthest from the door - was Zelra's opposite inconspicuousness-wise. She looked like an elf - quite fragile elf, but elf - but painted in blue: light blue skin, blue hair, big blue eyes - blue. Her simple chain mail, that she wore all day long as if always expecting an attack, was shiny enough to compliment the colour palette, but otherwise unremarkable. So is her weapon.
If she was seeking an employment, she was doing it wrong - leaving before dawn, coming back late afternoons and shying away from any personal interactions. But when she was here, she looked and listen as if learning about life around.
When Reece came to the room, the girl was polishing her sword.
"Fetch me?" In her voice (also kind of "blue" - some sort of overtone reminding of water streams) was a note of hope. She rushed out sheathing her sword on the way.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Uragum opened his at the mention of work and coin. He had been sitting across legged at the side of the room meditating. Not because he needed to but because as he stood up to full height he found precious little room at his towering 7 and a half foot tall height.
Once up, he smoothed out the wrinkles of his plain tan shirt and readjusted the fur cloak he wore. He started out the room after the others and ducked his head slightly to get under the door frame. As he walked down the hall his hand instinctually went to his side and patted the tone that was hung there just under his shirt. It was a sturdy leather bound book with an iron ringlet in the corner with a heavy chain that ran through it and then around Uragum's waist.
Otger had only just started to settle down in the room and was about to start removing his chain mail gloves when Reece wiped all thought of getting out of his armor out of his mind. He sighs softly and looks over to Zelra finding comfort in having her name called as well though she didn't seem the same as before.
Otger is an older human male that is quite obviously a cleric. He wears chain mail that is covered by his vestments which he seems to wear at all times. A gauntlet painted on the from with an eye in the center of the fist marks him as a follower of Helm. He has a simple leather pouch attached to his belt that holds his prayer book.
Turning to Zelra he says, "Off we go then, hope this doesn't take too long."
"It's about time. I've been here for 3 days looking for work. Unheard of for someone of my talents." Arnald mutters as he walks toward the door. Just before he leaves the room, a hawk lifts off from the bedpost and glides over to Arnald settling on his shoulder, blending well with the various shades of brown. Arnold's clothing and armor are of fine cut but with emphasis on functional rather than flashy. Arnald swaggers into the common room as if he owns the place and looks at those already assembled and the prospective employer and weighs them with his eyes for just a moment before making a slight bow,
"I am Arnald the Keen. No doubt you've heard of me. I am one of, if not the, greatest archers in the land. If you have something or someone that needs an arrow it in, I am at your service."
With that Arnald finds a chair toward the edge of the gathering and has a seat. His hawk still perched on his shoulder.
Campaigns:
DM - Waterdeep Dragon Heist PbP
After the others have left the room, Sylyra sighs and slowly gets to his feet. Tall and thin, the elf is blond headed and copper skinned. Beautiful himself, he's dressed in immaculate leathers carved with vines and other plants. Over that, he wears a green hooded half cloak. He's an interesting chap. The rumors are that he came into town a month ago spending money like a lord, but here he is now, sleeping among everyday adventurers. His attitude hasn't changed much, though. Any with little patience for it have found him irritating as he continues speaking like he's more important than everyone else. The only creature in the room he's shown any real respect to is the hawk of all things! Those with softer hearts pity him. What's his story? He always looks like he's waiting for something that hasn't come yet.
Sylyra takes a moment to peek at his reflection in the tiny glass hung on the wall of the bunk room then retrieves the carved staff from under his bunk. It is as tall as he, made of blond wood, and decorated as his armor is with vines and other plants. On one end is attached a leather thong with a sprig of mistletoe. As he glides into the hall, a smile brightens his face just before his eyes meet Reece's. "No interruption, Reece," Sylyra says, having no trouble remembering the young girl's name. "Thank you for letting ... us know," he says, stressing the pronoun with a bit of annoyance. "You say the gentleman is waiting downstairs?" When she nods, he turns and heads for the stairs, his chin aloft.
When Zelra asks the chap's name, Reece responds, "I'm sorry, he didn't say. And I couldn't see his face very well. He keeps his hood down low."
The young halfling grabs a few empty plates from the evening meal and dashes off toward the kitchen, leaving the adventurers alone with a mysterious hooded figure.
"I see the rumors of Madame Freona's repute for adventurers are true." The figure keeps his face obscured by his hood and speaks in a low voice, obviously disguising it.
When Ruik asks about the job, he explains, "I am a member of the Harpers. We are dedicated to fighting evil, wherever it hides." He displays a brooch with an insignia of a harp surrounded by a crescent moon.
"I have a mission that you are in a unique position to complete. We have captured a merchant that was trying to illegally purchase a red dragon egg. I would like you to pose as the merchant and her hirelings, go to the buy site, make the transaction, and place a magical device on one of the sellers so that our organization can track them back to their place of residence," he explains. The hood turns, as if the man beneath is scanning each adventurer that stands before him. "Well...that is fortunate," he mutters as his gaze falls over Zelra.
"You bear enough of a resemblance to the merchant we captured that the sellers should be easily fooled. I trust the rest of you can find roles to play; bodyguards, assistants, porters, you know the types," he says.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
So... this is how these things work? A tavern-keeper's daughter calls your name, you join a bunch of strangers (half-strangers, she lived with them here for several days, knew their names and to some even said "hello" a couple of times), and - off you go to some adventure? Who even decides if they can work together? But one has to start somewhere.
Ola did not say a word (she did not know "the types" anyway) but turned to Zelra with an obvious question in her eyes - how do we do it?
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Uragum listened carefully, and thought about the play. Pose as a group of merchants, plant something magical help them track and do it without suspicion. It sounded straight forward but it never was. Especially, with a new group. Oh well he thought.
He turned his head to his shoulder to the sound of loud cracking as his vertebra popped. He then took off his furs and removed his shirt revealing dark yet chiselled body with white flowing marks across his skin. He then put back on his furs which did little to cover his muscular torso. Then stuffing his shirt into his pack. He pulled out his bladed gauntlet and strapped it on. He then says, "There, now I'm ready... One merchant body guard down. Now let's talk coin."
Ruik grunted a few times while the man laid out the plan. He'd seen the Harper brooch before.
"I've seen that brooch before. I'm in. I'm no merchant though. But I'll be an assistant or guard or something. I'm in. "
As their gaze lands on Zelra, she stiffens a bit once before eventually letting out a sigh of relief at his explanation. Shrugging, she says "Of course it would be me. Do you have any information that would help me pose as the merchant better? Name, history, personality, appearance etc etc. Any information about the buyers, where we're going. Is this an organisation or just two parties making a deal? Feel free to tell me everything you know. I'd rather not die."
As soon as the stranger in the hood begins speaking, Sylyra selects a chair and sits, clearly impatient with the whole situation. He halfheartedly listens, but when the stranger picks out Zelra to play the part of the merchant, and the others begin playing along, Sylyra scoffs. He stands and taps his staff once on the floor to garner the group's attention. "You summon us without a proper greeting. You give not your name, nor do you show us your face. You even affect an accent to hide your voice, and you expect us to trust you? Is someone here who may vouch for your reputation? Your honesty? How do we know you're not enlisting us to carry out some nefarious scheme which might land us all in prison?" One of the group points out that the stranger identified himself as a member of the Harpers, to which Sylyra waves a hand. "He could have murdered some Harpers member — whatever they might be — and stolen their pin. That proves nothing." He looks hard at the hooded figure. "Identify yourself so that we might build some trust. Then we can discuss how we might benefit each other."
The hooded stranger sighs after Sylyra's rebuke. Bringing his hands up to the cowl of his hood, he slowly moves it back, revealing an older half-elf with close-cropped grey hair. "There. You have seen me. Remember my face if you would like," he says, still keeping his voice low.
He answers Zelra, "We don't know names. To our knowledge the seller has never met the buyer in person, and they will use no names in the transaction. The parties will refer to each other as the 'the buyer' and 'the seller'. You won't need more than your appearance, trust me on that; average build, nondescript, female human...you have that part covered. The location is an abandoned barn on the northern outskirts of Phlan."
When Uragum mentions coin, the half-elf smirks, "First, you'll need these." He drops a small leather sack onto a table and rattles it. "These are fake diamonds; basically worthless, but intricately carved to look like the real thing. They are more than good enough to pass a cursory inspection. You'll use these to buy the egg. Then, at some point during the exchange, you'll need to place this small silver pin on the seller or one of their crew. It is infused with magic, and once that is done, we will be able to scry on the sellers and learn more about their operation," he explains, placing the small pin next to the sack of diamonds.
"Once the transaction is complete, bring the egg back to the stables behind the Tea Kettle. I will meet you there and take possession of it. Under no circumstances should you fight the sellers or harm the egg. The sellers are small-time crooks. The point is to track them, so killing or capturing them will be counterproductive. Do this as instructed, successfully, and you will receive a sum of 200 gold pieces, paid upon delivery of the egg. Is this deal satisfactory? Time is growing short," he finishes.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
Before hot-headed elf could add more insults, Ola interjected: "The deal is completely satisfactory" (It has to be, is not it? Or do adventures make written contracts?) She looked at Sylyra with uncertain smile: "We barely know each others names. But Madame Freona vouched for each of us to each of us and she is the witness for both sides. I believe our reputation is safe."
I can add persuasion check :) Persuasion 14
"I can be your second bodyguard" she looked at Zelra. "Or your assistant. I mean, I am not sure I will be convincing as a porter, but I can do that too - I am stronger than I look"
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
As Sylyra talks, Zelra makes a face of realisation and nods softly to herself. He makes a good point. She listens carefully as the Harper speaks, trying to discern their intentions but at the mention of the payment, her eyes light up but she quickly frowns. She keeps her voice low though she is obviously very excited. "200 gold pieces? There are seven of us here. At least make it 210 so we can split it easily."
Insight to see if they're telling the truth about their identity and the job: 21
Arnald props his feet on the table and leans his chair back onto only the back legs with a look of contemplation on his face
Perhaps it'll go smooth as silk, or perhaps it'll go sideways. If all agree, and if there's time, I'd like to go roost up in this barn before the meeting so that should the worst happen I can take care of any threats and ensure the safety of our group. Also, I agree with Zelra. 210 sounds better than 200.
Campaigns:
DM - Waterdeep Dragon Heist PbP
Sylyra does, in fact, study the man's face as he continues. At the mention of fake diamonds, Sylyra's eyes lock on the small leather sack. He waits patiently as payment and logistics are negotiated and set, mumbling something about posing as a member of the merchant's entourage. When things seem to be in order, the blond elf smiles at the gray-haired half-elf and asks politely, "Would you perhaps allow me to inspect the false diamonds? I'm very curious."
(If he agrees:) Sylyra leans his staff against the table edge and picks up the sack of fake diamonds. He shakes a few into his palm and looks intently at them, examining how they catch the light. He then puts all but one back and holds the last between two fingers, bringing it close to his eye. Finally, putting the stone or glass or whatever it is back into the sack and placing it back on the table, the elf looks at the man. "These will do," he says in a haughty tone of voice.
(If he disagrees:) Sylyra's face quivers with suppressed emotion as he stares at the half-elf, then nods almost imperceptibly.
DM:
If the half-elf disagrees, Sylyra will want to offer to hold onto the sack for the task. That way, he can inspect the "diamonds" later. Either way, he wants to ask the half-elf when the others are distracted — perhaps as the half-elf is leaving — how the diamonds were made.
"200 gold is more than a fair reward. I am not willing or able to increase that amount. My apologies," the half-elf explains respectfully, "And I'm afraid we don't have time to negotiate. The meeting is set to begin any second now, and if you are hoping to roost in the barn you will need to beat the sellers there."
The half-elf motions for Sylyra to take a look at the diamonds, and the elf begins to examine them thoroughly.
For Zelra:
This half-elf is difficult for you to read. Whether any of this is truth or lie is your guess.
For Sylyra:
Insight: 17
Investigation: 15
The half-elf's face is very even throughout his explanations. This man is very good at hiding emotion, and whether any of this is truth or lie is your guess.
True to his word, the diamonds are good. So good, in fact, that had he not told you they were forgeries, you'd have been convinced at their legitimacy. Even looking at them now, you're almost certain that they are real - they are weighted perfectly, and they gleam in the sunlight that spills through the windows the same way as diamonds from your family's vault.
OOC: Sylyra's desire to ask about how the diamonds were made is noted. Sylyra can hang back for a moment to ask the half-elf once the party leaves.
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