The Way We Were Waylaid, Wayward, p2
Log Info
- Title: The Way We Were Waylaid, Wayward, part 2
- Emitter: Jinks
- Characters: Carver, Dirk, Jay, Nemori, Zofija
- Place: Kultari Way Station
- Time: Friday, July 15, 2022, 9:28 PM
- Summary: The adventurers stop at the Kulteri Way Station to gather information regarding the missing scouts. They speak with Knights and Wizards. A particular cavalier, Earl Lorington, seems to know more but doesn't share the information. One of the other mercenaries helping them out, Tamzin, attempts to steal some gear and is prevented. The group decides to move onto the Gorge next.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Carver 5'7" 133 Lb Human Female A plain-faced woman with a brown top knot. Dirk 4'11" 295 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A rugged old dwarf, dressed for the outdoors. Jay 5'9" 145 Lb Eaglefolk Male A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye. Nemori 4'10" 110 Lb Mul'niessa Female A tall and slender, dark skinned elf. Zofija 5'8" 225 Lb Hobgoblin Female A well-dressed Arvek-Nar with a big hammer. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Major NPCs =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Gitlweet Gobber Male A light-skinned gobber with freckles in dark clothes. Wizard's staff. Heady Wargolem ??? A headless mess of a wargolem covered in rust and patina. Kerry-Anne Human Female One-armed, well-built Eldanari woman with curly hair. Tamzin Human Female Rail-thin rake with a nice new leather jacket. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The sun is well in sight and still-climbing when the two-wagon caravan carries the group into view of the Kultari Waypoint and those familiar with the place are in for a surprise. More than a half-dozen suits of armor glint and gleam in the morning sun near the road. A new jagged stone feature juts up to barricade the backside of the encampment while fresh and sturdy palisades encircle the flanks.
Smoke from several fires within the space climb lazily into the air and banners of the Society for Progressive Arcanists, Alexandria's regular military, and a handful of knightly Orders flap from within.
There's an electric-blue flash as the most recent teleportation spell is completed and the world temporarily shifts into black-and-white. Someone from within the fort begins calling out for the next scheduled transport.
A massive, armored thing in a plumed helmet comes pounding across the road on a destrier layered with plated barding and decorative caparisons. The figure considers your approach for a moment before deciding you need not be challenged. They turn and the horse pounds down the road in the opposite direction. They lift a jeweled gauntlet and two archers overlooking the palisade lower their weapons.
A bundle of furs and leathers that stink faintly of old ale was left in one of the wagons, near the back. So when it suddenly begins to stir, someone may give it a wary look at least until Carver's head pops up and bleary-eyes about. She looks 'rough'. If hangover had a style, she'd be stylin' it. Both fists plant into her eyes and rub vigorously as she groans in time with the wagon's bumpy ride.
"I'm never drinkin' 'gain." She lies. She will, but she will know its regretful sting all the same. The sight of the glorious cavalier man doesn't even rouse from her any national pride, just a deepset liver-reducing ennui. She scraps her bow closer, as she sloooooowly sits up. Blink. Blink.
"Wish coul' remember even where we we're goin'."
"Seems they fortified this spot well enough. That's good." Zofija grunts, holding up one arm as they meet the fairly wary guards. The Arvek-nar dismounts the griffon they were riding, and their hat is doffed with a sweeping bow. "Best not to be making those claims before we potentially run into any undead in the woods." She chuckles. "Anyways, please excuse us. We're here on business with the silver circle and Yggdrasil union, and we'd appreciate your cooperation. We're after a scouting party who came through here possibly, and missed their check in date. So we're trying to find where they're holed up, or at least where to find their bodies."
Jay has been happily driving a wagon, watching Nemori, and the landscape go by. "Elves, allegedly!" He adds brightly. He's fixated by the retreating knight. So shiny! These things are of interest. His head bobs, "It is good that the place hasn't been over run."
"How well yer figure they can swim if yer push them in the water?" Tamzin wonders for Kerry-Anne's benefit, both sitting together in the driver's seat of the other wagon. She laughs but the other woman just frowns and glowers, already maneuvering the wagon in and to one side for a look around.
Git is on his goat, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as he looks at the wilderness encampment. Heady remains just as still in the back of its wagon.
"Sounds important," an archer answers from atop the palisades. He leans with both hands on his propped longbow and looks down between the two wagons, ducking his head and using the top of the weapon to push up the brim of his kettle helm. "Spend most of my time looking out for ghoulies. Feel free to head on in and ask around." He tosses a thumb over his shoulder. "No shortage of elves at the moment."
Nemori keeps the brim of her hat down enough to shade her eyes. Certainly not to help disguise her unease with the approach of the large 'knight'. And she certainly doesn't adjust her position on the wagon soley to put her a little further away from Carver. Not worried about hangover sickness at all.
When Zofija announces the reason for the large group's presence, she merely points at the Arvek Nar, silently adding her support of the cavalier's explanation.
Carver struggles a little straighter, listening to the assorted conversations. Like someone lost at sea who might gaze to the stars to guide them, it fills in the blanks of her meager memory of the last few hours enough that she can at least surmise that they are here for a goal. Find some pointy ears.
She exhales a rank breath, licks her lips, then drinks from her canteen to wash it down. "Uh, 'ey." To Nemori. "I 'member you."
The waystop just off the Kultari is a bustling hub this morning!
It's something of an extra-dimensional travel hub for months now-- since the wards closed off Alexandria-- and with the wilderness growing less-safe as time passes the importance of the little roadside building has continued to grow. The raised rock barrier to the north and the sturdy wooden palisades have transformed it into a formidable fort.
A small handful of semi-permanent structures have popped up around the simple, squat building, and across from the large firepit on the trail outside the ground has been cleared, leveled, and fixed with runic markings to aid in teleportation.
There are simple tents and hitched wagons, too, and people milling about waiting for their escort east into Alexandria or their turn with the wizards and their teleportation magics.
A quick headcount puts somewhere between two- and three-dozen people inside the walls along with animals and conveyances. A coloful group of Veyshanti prepare their bags near the teleportation circle. A mixed handful of Sildanyari in muted greens, browns, and tans water and rest their horses.
"Okay! Okay!" The bluejay says, checking on the Lady Nemori and then hopping off his wagon. He whispers, "You shouldn't stab her."
He run-flutters towards the way-station, his wings trailing behind him. Throwing open the door, he announces himself, "Integrity C Truefeather, esquire, the 'C' is for coach."
"I'm looking for some elf explorers. Has anyone seen them? There's a reward. Reward!"
Very quickly he adds in low and compact words, "Reward may not be monetary or large." A disclaimer, allegedly.
"Well, keep up the watch, we'll leave you be. And thanks again." Zofija grunts, bowing once again before grabbing the reins of her mount and guiding them through the gates. "What the egalrin said, we're looking for any information on a scouting party who possibly came through here. Days they left, what direction, anything they may have said."
"There is a finders fee, but I was hoping they'd help us out of the goodness of their hearts." Zofija sighs. I don't want to share my cut with even more people, but so be it."
There's the waystop itself, a couple groups of travelers, tents for a couple knightly orders, and the academy's setup for teleporting. Picking folks to talk to will probably work better than standing in the middle of a big camp and hollering, despite the strong efforts so far. Individual diplomacy work migh bear more fruit.
Nemori's expression when Jay hops down and quietly offers his advice is objectionary at first.. but then she nods, placing a smile on her face as she looks back over her shoulder at Carver again. "Carver. Yes. The mission in the sewers with the undead Otyugh. You were... quite valiant." See, she can be nice. It's not like she'd been ready to abandon that entire group, save one, had things gone for the worse in Alexandria's bowels.
With the pleasantries offered, she climbs out of the wagon as well, so she can take measure of the encampment and determine where she might be of use.
GAME: Jay rolls bluff: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Jay rolls knowledge/local: (7)+10: 17
Failing to catch any fish with a broad net, the bluejay switches tactics to throwing out single lines. He approaches the colourful Veyshanti, adjusting his plumage, fluffing up. "Oh, those are fantastic dyes, beautiful colours!"
"Did you see anyone come by?" He provides a quick description of their quarries.
Tamzin and Kerry-Anne seem to be having a hushed argument just inside the gate, distracting the pair as Git rides inside on his goat and nearly falls flat on his face trying to dismount. His staff bounces away into the well-trod mud of the road and he goes down onto a knee and one hand as the weight of his backpack shifts. Undeterred, he stands and scoops up his staff before rushing to the teleportation circle with an audible "WOOOOOOOOOOOOO~W!"
There's a rather fantastic gnome preparing his next spell and an unamused human with a heavy lockbox and a weighty tome. The latter looks up and narrows his eyes at the approach of the shouting goblin.
"Git! Remember ter ask about the blokes! Cor blimey!" Tamzin shouts after him, hoping to keep SOMEONE on-task. She's managed to drag Kerry-Anne off the driver's bench and the pair make for the waystop itself, likely planning to questions folks in there.
Heady seems content to decorate the back of that wagon.
GAME: Nemori rolls diplomacy: (13)+8: 21 (aid Another Zofija) GAME: Zofija rolls knowledge/military theory: (9)+8: 17 GAME: Zofija rolls knowledge/nobility: (11)+4: 15
Banners of the Order of the Blue Rose and the Tradition of the Lost Crown identify the two camps of Knights. They have each set up their own group of tents.
"Thanks." Carver says, surprisingly succint in her acceptance of the praise. "You too, and wot." She follows Nemori after another second or two to collect herself, her heavy furs bouncing along on her back as she picks through the crowd. In the end, it's a bunch of stuffy knights or stuffier mages, so she'll go speak with the Sildanyari!
She lifts a friendly hand, "'scuse me, 'scuse me. Lookin' for the nearest waterin' holes in the area, somewhere somebody migh' retreat to for access to clean water shoul' they have injured in need of soft hands an' needle work."
"Many people come by, little bird. This is a waystop," the Veyshanti merchant offers a pearlescent smile as he worries and twists a waxed mustache. Jay can recognize a badge hanging amongst the man's many necklaces that identify him as a member of a Tashraani merchant guild. He carries a fine leather bag possessively, arm wrapped around it to keep it close without crushing the contents. Two women and an adolescent male round out the group, the young man bow-backed under the worst of the load.
GAME: Carver rolls diplomacy: (8)+0: 8
Carver finds the Sildanyari milling and chatting amicably amongst their animals. They all have a smattering of tattoos in a dark purple of winding curls and circular patterns. One brushes her horse. Another sees to a hoof with a pointed steel tool.
"Giver's bounty!" The youngest of the group chirps, his brown hair bouncing around his road-dusted shoulders as he hops towards Carver. He might come to stand a little too close, opening one eye a little wider and he considers her up and down. There's a sniff and he wrinkles his nose. "Are you looking to have a bath? You're smelling a bit sour," he concludes with a friendly smile and a nod.
"There are a few farmhouses and estates on the road to the west. The big city is east," he cocks his head one way and then the other. "There's a priest in that building if you're hurt." He points at the waystop.
Zofija wanders around the camp, stopping to regard some of the heraldry that was laid out in various spots. "Surprised, and it's a shame that there's no order of the scales presence here. It'd be easiest to talk with them." The Arvek-nar grunts. "Still, some might be of help. Easiest to appeal to reason with the blue rose, they tend to keep a tab on local folk. Possible they have a ledger on people coming by just in case. And the lost crown, well, they're what you'd expect of an order of knights to a crown. king and country, emphasis on the king. They might know if they're the ones who set up this encampment."
"Why not both?" Nemori suggests to Zofija, following the taller woman, doing her best to keep her pleasant disposition in play. "We begin with the blue roses... if as you say, they are the easiest to approach. And if they cannot help us, perhaps we can obtain their endorsement to seek information from the others." The shadow elf may just be displaying her ignorance on relations between knightly orders.
The Blue Rose has the less-impressive of the two camps-within-camps but it's well-kept and organized. Zofija and Nemori find a pair of Khazadi of the Rose at conversation as a copper-haired squire helps a raven-haired knight into his plate armor. There's a familiar air between the two but the older male is clearly in charge.
Dirk wanders the camp, looking for any scouts or rangers here who can give him the lay of the land. Along with useful details, like any nasty beasties sighted, movements of undead. Get a feel for the threats while seeking the lost scouts.
Only problem, they seemed to be the only scouts assigned to the camp. He'll have to approach some of the other various groups and people in the camp. Or just wander and gather info generally. well, the other folks are talking to the knights and the wizardly sorts. He mingles.
GAME: Dirk rolls Diplomacy: (3)+1: 4
Poorly.
GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (14)+10: 24
Dirk has tied off his pony Thistle and sent Lulu winging into the treeline to find herself some dinner. The burly old snowbeard lumbers about the waypoint, glancing hither and yon. Nothing but tallfolk here (not counting their gobbo companion). He frowns a bit, finding himself a little self-conscious. It's always hard to strike up a conversation with someone when they're a foot taller than you are. So he keeps to himself for the time being, instead choosing to watch and listen to gather data.
GAME: Nemori rolls diplomacy: (8)+8: 16 (Aid Another) GAME: Zofija rolls diplomacy: (17)+-1: 16
Great. Dwarves. Nemori's pleasant disposition falters slightly before she thrusts it back into place. With a knight and his squire there, the dwarves are thankfully not the only option. On the other hand.. with a heavy sigh, she looks at the Arvek Nar. "I will speak with the grundles if you will speak with the knight. Perhaps the two of you can... bond... over swords.. or something."
She briefly separates from the cavalier to approach the dwarves, then, and approaches the two khazad. "I apologize for interrupting," she begins, diplomatically. "My companions and I have been sent to rescue three individuals... and we are attempting to retrace their steps. I am led to understand that your order might be inclined to pay more attention than others to folk who come and go in this camp?"
"I know! I know! The Kulteri waystop. It was a plague quarantine just recently." Jay replies conversationally, his gaze drawn to the well-clutched bag. Some attention is spared for the women and the adolescent. The boy gets a second look, such a weight. "That's a great way of breaking his spirit. Allegedly."
This is his follow-up to enter verbal gymnastics with the man. The l-eagel egalrin is chipper and quick with his quips. It doesn't take too long for him to determine that the man has no useful information. He hasn't seen the three being sought. The Veyshanthi have come from Alexandria after completing a land-purchase deal and are going back home to ride out the Wight business. The two women are his wife and her sister. The sister-in-law is the head of his merchant's guild.
The young man is a slave, by any other name, and his actual name, 'Slave'.
"I didn't find out anything." Jay tells Nemori and Zofija, joining them again.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+1: (7)+1: 8
Nemori returns to the wagons, along with Zofija.. and with a pair of knightly Khazad at their heels. Now that Nemori isn't dealing with them directly, her face resembles her true feelings a little more closely. A mixture of pained tolerance and mild resentment. Upon seeing Jay, she nods her acceptance of his report.. then tilts her head to the side just enough to vaguely point to the dwarfs behind her eyes. "Zofija, I think, can give a better summary of what they told us... but it is promising. They are concerned about our missing woodsmen as well, so ought to be rather forthcoming. Now excuse me. I need to go and get an awful taste out of my mouth."
"May the winds whisper you to a safe road," Carver replies, slurring half her syllables as she says her goodbye. She does not even take offense to the child's emotional damaging knife of a commentary about her body odor. She bears the stones and sticks, even if the words hurt her. Eventually, she returns to the group. "The Points, they said... uh, they hadn't seen 'em. Wot, those we weres lookin' for. They did mention that they as a group did pass the Coastal Head aroun' two days ago."
Git cranes his neck to look up at Jay, standing in his best wizard's pose with his wizard's staff standing taller than he is. He listens raptly while the egalrin describes his findings and nods rapidly at the information.
"The master-conjurist Knin...um...pom..moe...raen--" he takes his time, counting his fingers off to make sure he gets it right-- "doesn't like the gnome we're looking for!" He takes a step into the center of the circle and cups the back of his hand to his mouth conspiratorially "(the other gnome thinks this gnome is too greedy and this gnome thinks the other gnome is too dirty...)"
The gobber steps back and shrugs. "They haven't seen any of them for five days, though."
Heady is still where he was left. The other two are nowhere to be seen for the time being.
Bonding over swords wasn't particularly Zofija's cup of tea, but thankfully the people she met in the small blue rose camp were Khazad, who knew the good value of hammers, and getting hammered. When she returned with the knights, it was as if she had taken whatever good spirits Nemori had at the time.
"Well, good news, these two here, Lord Arctumn and squire Ilde have been here for some time. And they did see the ones we're looking for, five days ago." She announces with the grin staying, happy to be making progress again. "They have more information to share, so I'll leave the rest to them. Thanks again, I'll buy you both a round before we're out of here."
Dirk glances around the waypoint's minimalist tavern. He looks over the supplies for the needy, tugging at his beard. He's not one to take bread from the hungry, and he's not about to start now, instead, he makes his way over to where he spies Tamzin and Kerry-Anne seated nearby. "Everything a'right, ladies?" he asks in a quiet tone, so as not to make a scene.
Jay listens, nodding. "So it was five days ago they were last seen, confirmed by multiple people?" He looks at everyone assembled, "I'd guess, move onto the next location?"
"Unless, there's more we can find here?"
Armor donned, Lord Arctumn Gneissleigh of the Blue Rose stomps up behind Nemori and Eztli. His skin is olive-toned and his beard is immaculately braided and raven-black hair is up in a topknot-- a similarity he notes in Carver whereupon he beams and cheers. Twins! He carries his helm under one arm and has a waraxe strapped to his back beneath his shield.
Ilde Draupchert is his squire, yes, but her sturdy build and thick arms make her look just as formidable as the knight she serves. Her copper-colored hair is braided tight around her scalp. She doesn't carry her weapon but remarked that she and Zofija seemed to be women of similar tastes and had indicated a maul back at the tent.
"SO!" The lord begins, sizing up the hodgepodge group. "Good group yer after. Come through all the time. We've been worried about the Gorge recently-- them and us, the Rose. Don't think the underworld is sealed up properly but haven't seen any real problems quite yet."
The squire grunts and crosses her arms. "If they haven't made it back that's where you should start. 'Dern' Gorge."
"Aye," agrees the lord with a nod. "But they way they move... it's gonna be tricky." His bare hand comes up and he rearranges the braids of his beard. "Oncith becomes a cat that Ilythyrra rides. Corhim flies as a bird."
Meanwhile, inside the waystop...
"Candy an wine," Tamzin smiles sweetly up at Dirk.
"Fug... off," Kerry-Anne slurs, drawing a side-eye her freckled partner in cri-- do-goodery.
"We just needed a quick rest before we cop back ter the hunt!" Tamzin corrects with a coy wink followed by a cant of her chin towards the door. "Why don't yer go 'ave a look in on the uvvers. It's all quiet in 'ere." She wraps her arm around Kerry-Anne's shoulder and the other woman shrugs the gesture of affection away.
"Earl Lorington XI--" Arctumn begins, only to be interrupted by Ilde.
"Ser Borington, more like."
"*AHEM*" the lord scolds with a glance at his squire. He's trying to hide his grin. "Lorington is only interested in keeping the road secure from her to the city to the east. That was the mission the Council of Lords gave him. He... won't have anything for you, I don't think."
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (8)+13: 21
Carver nods at the dwarf knight, giving a gap-toothed smile. She's either actually fond of dwarves, or imagining him tripping over his big braided chinwhiskers and falling down a hill to the sounds of a marching band considering all that armor. She doesn't elaborate though, listening carefully as they explain. She nods, finding no immediate fault with this suggestion.
GAME: Dirk rolls Sense Motive: (6)+2: 8
Tamzin is entirely trustworthy.
"Oh. Okay. Oh." Integrity says, heading back to the wagons, heading back to 'Heady', the headless wargolem. Instead of a head, he has the back-lower portion of a cup, a bit like a broken bowl. A little floaty Will-o'wisp hovering there. The bluejay attempts to pick up the wisp, saying, "Hey 'Heady' come help me out?"
Contact causes his feathers to fluff out.
The wargolem intones, "Do not do that."
"Sorry." He steps back from the forbidden drink golem and pretends what just happened didn't happen.
The bluejay ponders the Lord and the Squire's information, "Well, a couple of us could speak with him before we go. I guess. Just in case."
"With any luck, they're camped out at the gorge, and trying to figure out how to best close up the source. But is seems a good place to start." Zofija grunts, nodding to the Egalrin and the others. "Could be worth talking to, might as well before we're out of here."
The Arvek-nar grins to the squire, stretching one arm out over her head. "Appreciate the information. If you're ever in the city, give me a shout. Could go to the colosseum, if you want to get hammered, or one of the bars, if you want to get hammered." The cavalier laughs.
True to her word, Nemori left to find something to rinse her mouth out with. Sharp ears might notice gurgling and spitting behind the wagons, out of sight. This repeats a few times, and moments after it ends she returns to join everyone. Hopefully having missed the knightly khazad's exposition, but just in time to hear his thoughts on Lorington's probable inability to help. "So that is done, then?" she asks, then frowns as she looks from Carver to Jay to Zofija... to Heady and Git. "Where are the others? Our tracker.. and those Other Two."
"The Gorge isn't too hard to find," Gneissleigh explains, looking between the group. "Half-a-day down the main road. Then a couple hours on side paths and old, abandoned trade roads. I'll have Squire Draupchert scribble down a list of landmarks that'll get you to the warning markers.
"Some idiot gnome-woman detonated an alchemical bomb collapsing a plague warren of fungus-people." He explains as Ilde jogs back towards the tent for pen and paper. "It's turned into swamps," he adds, making a face. "Ready yourself for damp and bugs. Our ponies hate it... you might have to get there on foot."
The armored knight just shrugs when the group considers going to talk to the Knight of the Lost Crown. "If you aren't too much longer you can ride with us for a ways; we're headed west on patrol. Going to hook north about halfway to where you're going to check on a few homesteads."
"Okay! Let's not be long." Jay says encouragingly.
Dirk gives Kerry-Anne a scowl, but offers a gruff nod to Tamzin. "Hrmph. Right. Well. Think we might be headed out sooner'n later. Best gather yeselves up," he grunts, befure turning and trundling back out to rejoin the others. He hooks his thumb over his shoulder towards the pub. "The two lasses are in there talkin' 'bout summat or other. I've nae heard anything of much use, though."
"We're right behind yer, right, chummer," Tamzin smiles sweetly, turning back to rest her forehead gently against Kerry-Anne's cheek and mutter something privately between the two of them.
Upon Dirk's resport, Nemori's gaze turns towards the pub suspiciously... only to see the pair right there, not too far behind. It's hard to hide the disappointment on her face, and she turns away from the pair to look towards the pavilion of the Order of the Lost Crown. "Then let us be about quickly questioning the other knights and then be on our way."
A pair minus one!
Tamzin waves at Nemori's look, double-timing to catch up with Dirk's determined gait. She shoves her hands back into her fine new leather coat and looks between everyone as they assemble. "Did we find them? Blimey for us!" She beams.
"No, we didn't, just a quick person to talk to before we leave. They're about to go on patrol." Jay points at the Knights, then waves a wing at Nemori and Zofija, "You're good with nobles and muckity-mucks. Let's go see that Earl."
The Bluejay tears off, "Earl Borington the Eleventh! I have to speak with you. Earl Borington! Borington!"
The jay is helping, really.
Carver scratches beneath her furs and leathers as Jay runs off again, encouraging the assistance of the smooth-tongued sistas. She does not thrust herself forward to join, the lingering effects of sewer fever and drink robbing her of the desire to show that she too can seduce the uppity uppercrust. "I though' the idea was to fin' the missing people, but maybe they saw a clue I missed. Was never much good at the whole... investigatin' side of things."
Lorington is an Eldanar noble in mithral platemail shined so bright it's practically white. A massive lion covered in bony, plated protrusions lounges behind him as tall at the shoulder lying down as he is sitting in his throne-like chair. His grey eyes regard Jay unkindly upon the egalrin's arrival.
His own squire is smaller and much-less capable looking than Ilde. The young man with the spotty face dashes forward in response to a curt gesture and accepts a piece of paper. "'The Earl Duke Lorington XI is a busy man in service of the Council of the Lords. He... does not accept petitioners,'" the squire looks up and across the fine rugs covering the earthen floor of the tent as he finishes reciting the written note.
The armored knight nods once and goes back to his book, reading between reports and entering logs with an ornate brass pen.
"Yes, lets be quick. The sooner we're out of the encampment, the sooner we can track down those people." Zofija grunts. She follows the others out, giving the two behind Dirk a quizzical look before she turns to find where the other lord was stationed. She nods to the squire, and steps forward, offering another bow. "Skyguard and member of the order of the scales Zofija Voght, and we will take as little of his time as needed. We are on business serving the council, as our duties are to serve in the defence of Alexandria in locating a missing scouting party. I will put forward a good word at the order headquarters in Alexandria if he is able to provide any information which would be of aid."
Dirk goes to exchange some words with the folk running the waystation. He passes them a few coins to stable Thistle here, since it likely won't be feasible to take him into the boggy swamps. But he's not leaving entirely alone. He lifts his fist to his mouth, hooting through his curled fingers. Lulu breaks out of the treeline with a fat (and dead) mouse clutched in her talons. She settles down on the hitching post by thistle, puffing up her feathers as she blinks proudly up at her master. "Aye, good on ye, lassie," Dirk says with a fond chuckle, giving her head-feathers a scritch. He glances towards where Jay is attempting to chat up the highborn nobleman, harrumping softly. "May as well be pissin' in the wind," he mutters.
It was easier to accept Jay's suggestion than think of an excuse not to, so Nemori does indeed follow the egalrin and the cavalier to speak to the Earl. Upon seeing the decorations in the interior of this Order's tent, however, she begins to doubt her judgement on which would have been 'easier.' But, as she's sure she's heard these people say, the baby's been thrown out so it's time to dump the bathwater.
"Earl Lorington, as my companion says, we will be but a moment and our business is both official and urgent. The ones we seek, scout as our Skyguard says, have information vital to the city's defense... if we can but find them, I promise you will be the first one we relay this information to."
GAME: Nemori rolls bluff: (8)+7: 15 GAME: Jay rolls knowledge/local: (13)+10: 23
"We'll be just a moment, our question involves the scouting party from five days ago, if by chance he encountered them and heard their intentions. We have a few potential leads, but narrowing it down, a definite destination, could save lives, lives!" Integrity adds, standing behind both Arvek Nar and Mul'niessa. With his wings spread, like they are now, he seems larger than he is.
The bluejay leans in, whispering to the two women, "The Loringtons are nobility-by-deed and were originally granted title by the Myrrish king when they held power in Alexandria. So they're the real deal, actual deed-doers."
"This Lorington, the Earl, lost his tongue in Whitefoot's War and was thought dead after holding ground for an airship to escape an attack." Integrity leans a bit closer, "He's a bit of a jerk though."
Actually, a huge Fucking Asshole, allegedly.
"So... uh... he might have to write the answer down." The bluejay chirps, whipping out his briefcase, "I've got paper, and a pen!"
The Earl pauses in his transcribing, drawing in a deep breath and issuing a belabored and mighty sigh. He turns in his chair and jerkily scribbles another note, handing it off to the squire.
"..." The squire looks at the note, at you, and at Lorington. "'The road east is secure.'" The squire responds, his voice awkward and trembling.
There's a long, tense moment as Jay relays his information. The Crown Knight hasn't looked up from his book but he issues an amused snort. There's a heavy rap on the table and the squire accepts another paper.
"'The scouting party checked in five days ago. Has not been seen since.'" The squire reads. "'Now... now go.'"
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+11: (10)+11: 21 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+6: (19)+6: 25 GAME: Jay rolls perception: (14)+14: 28 GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (9)+4: 13 GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (19)+4: 23 (Free ReRoll) GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (6)+10: 16 GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (16)+10: 26 (Free ReRoll) GAME: Carver rolls perception: (5)+9: 14 GAME: Carver rolls perception: (3)+9: 12 (Free ReRoll) GAME: Nemori rolls perception: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Nemori rolls perception: (6)+9: 15 (Free reRoll)
Tamzin is slipping a bossed Mithril Buckler off a tentpost, directing it into her coat pocket.
Dirk glances over at Tamzin, and then double-takes. His eyes get wide, then narrow. His beard bristles furiously as his cheeks color. He turns and trundles over to where she stands. He snaps his hand out to grab her forearm, giving her a rough shake. "Well now, isn't -this- a lovely coat?" he growls. "Such a fine lookin' coat, this is. I -must- say, this is the nicest lookin' coat I've ever clapped eyes on!" He gives her another rough shake, glaring meaningfully up at her.
GAME: Nemori casts Create Water. Caster Level: 5 DC: 13 GAME: Nemori casts Create Water. Caster Level: 5 DC: 13
Nemori is... familiar with the feeling of dismissal. The feeling of someone wielding authority as if it were their divine right, rather than a responsibility. And it isn't like she disagrees with how he wields it. But it still rankles to be on the receiving end of it. Her hand twitches, clawed fingers seeming to want to seek out her knife of their own accord, but she turns abruptly, seeing no further need for diplomacy.
Once outside, she casts a pair of orisons to create water. Alot of water. All to soak the ground in front of the Crown Knight's tent. Maybe enough to muddy it up. Imagining him getting all muddy is enough to cheer her up. A little bit.
GAME: Jay rolls sleight of Hand: (3)+9: 12 GAME: Jay rolls bluff: (3)+7: 10 GAME: Jay rolls bluff: (18)+7: 25 (Free ReRoll)
As smoothly as if it was planned, Jay dips his wings and reaches for something on the ground. A bossed mithril buckler, one that wasn't there a moment ago. The egalrin is too slow to entirely disguise the movement, it's clear he was attempting to.
He immediately hands it over to the scribe, placing it in front of him. "This was knocked off the post. It's a lovely design."
He bows to the Earl, "Thanks for the information, it's helpful. If you ever need a solicitor, remember, Integrity C Truefeather!"
"Thank you for your time and insight, Earl Lorington. I will mention this when we return to town." Zofija grunts, offering another flourishing bow, which let's her glare at Tamzin out of sight of the earl, before she turns, and marches out. When she's gone, whatever stately stature she put on drains completely out of her, and she sighs. "Gods I don't miss the pomp and circumstance of dealing with superiors at all." Zofi grunts. "Happy to put that behind me. So, lets be on our way while we still have the sun on our side, aye?"
The Earl is standing with his fists jammed onto the tabletop, glowering. The muscles in his scarred face flex as he grinds his teeth.
"-- weren't me!" Tamzin offers as a reflex, jerked low to follow after Dirk as she grimaces and issues a wine on the way past Nemori. Her freckled cheeks burn red to have the mul'niessa see her like this. She struggles a bit at the stocky old timer's grip. "Rattle an' hum on now mister yor 'urtin' me..!"
The human girl with the sloppily-cut hair finally jerks away and scampers towards her wagon, jumping up into the driver's seat.
Git looks over from the teleportation circle. The Veyshanti are gone and the gnomish Conjurist with the over-complicated name is shaking out his hands and flexing his fingers. The gobber says his good-byes and scurries over, hopping up onto his goat and employing techniques taught by Jay and Zofija both to get it moving.
Tamzin-- maybe rushing a bit-- gets the wagon moving and turned away. She's not the best at it. She's not a professional teamster like a certain egalrin present. Heady is still in the back, waiting.
Outside, everyone meets up with the two Blue Rose soldiers. They wait on the back of matching white ponies. Ponies in mail coats and caparisons with the titular blue rose in stitched detail.
"Wait..." Git wonders, turning around on his goat. "Where's Kerry-Anne..?"
Nemori is outside waiting, her arms folded across her abdomen when the others file out. And she's not above smirking when Tamzin is.. assisted.. by Dirk. She may have missed the altercation that provoke it, but one can almost see her opinion of the Khazad woodsman shifting a little more towards, if not like exactly, at least kinder tolerance.
Back at the wagons, Nemori looks around when Git questions his companion's absence. Her amusement is gone all at once and she's casting another suspicious look at the pair. Er, the trio. "She is aware we did not intend to remain here, is she not?"
"Yeah, we're missing someone." Zofija grunts. "What Tamzin, did you invite her up to your room for the night or something Tamsin, and then realize that we did not have a room or a night here? If you know where she is, better speak up. And you better not be getting her to commit theft or other crimes like you were attempting."
Jay catches up at the wagons, his beak means his expression is generally fixed, but there are hints. He glances at Nemori, looking at her with both eyes. His head flicks to Zofija, finally Tamzin.
"Yeah, it's a tenuous situation, you might have to rely on these guys to save your tail-feathers. They won't if you take stuff from them, allegedly, especially if they see you doing it."
He looks around, "We need to get rolling, not making more issues."
"You're guilty of a crime when you're caught and convicted, and even bad people deserve a good defense, that's the law." The l-eagle egalrin states proudly, thrusting out his chest, "I would have a really hard time giving you one with what you were doing."
"Weren't like that." Tamzin actually growls at Zofija, her innocent and bewildered expression fracturing with genuine anger. "She's like a sister ter me."
The girl has to pause, struggling with the reins to keep the wagon on the road ad the Khazadi knights take the fore.
"...she's not feelin' well and asked ter stay behind. She's gonna try ter cor peep it off..." She looks over at Git, tucking her chin and narrowing her eyes. "An' there's a priest."
When Jay talks about crime and theft she just shrugs and settles back into the driver's seat. "Weren't me."
"That's the ticket, I shouldn't believe my lying eyes." Jay says, "You didn't do it, allegedly."
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (6)+13: 19 GAME: Jay rolls sense motive: (4)+10: 14 GAME: Dirk rolls Sense Motive: (14)+2: 16 GAME: Zofija rolls sense motive: (15)+1: 16
She's entirely credible. In-credible. Just like flammable and inflammable mean the same thing, so is she. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
<OOC> Nemori says, "That sweet, sweet feeling of a knife's blade parting... er, I mean, she likes forging. And dandelions."