Chapter 10: Eye of the Storm

[Jeff]

Rinti lingers near the stairwell, unsure of what to do. She fidgets with her new Deneith uniform. Starg stands in the central room, keeping an eye on things. The minotaur looks down on the girl. She looks back, awkwardly.

"I am Starg," he says at length.

"I like your horns and tail, sir," she says with her Stormreach street accent.

"Thank you."

__________________________

Okay, let's get to the action here. And be decisive:

Who exactly's going to the Bogwater Tavern, and in what groups? Is anyone not going? (And is therefore willing to "sit out" for a while?) Shorak will need to lead the way, and if Kal intends to arrive at a different time, then he can simply follow directions Shorak gives him.

So Belarin has mostly finished his two maps, though it is now late at night (which is fine, as most taverns in a city are pretty active at this hour).

[Dave W.]

Jul 8, 2012 10:40:32 GMT -4 Darren said:

"Bogwater sounds like the place for us right now. What do you say, Belarin?"

"if a mere guard could venture his opinion," Adamant says lightly, "the Bogwater sounds like the sort of place Master Nerrin believes he should frequent."

Adamant's right eye dims almost to dark then flashes back to normal, matching the left in brightness. He nudges Condign, "Did you see the wink... Did I get it correct? I've been practicing..."

--------------------
See what happens when you leave Adamant alone too long...

Adamant will go with Belarin, posing as Redoubt of course...

Sorry, I've been so spotty in keeping up... Summer, never really got the hang of summer...

[Brian]

Adamant:

He nudges Condign, "Did you see the wink... Did I get it correct? I've been practicing..."

Condign nods. "Yes, my lord Adamant. You performed the wink with distinction." He turns to the others. "I agree. Bogwater sounds positively appetizing. Though I suggest we keep someone outside this establishment in case we are followed. Also, it will be dark soon, and we should not forget the threat of Major Krez."

[Joe]

Streko shakes his head and flashes a tired grin. "No rest for the weary. I shall go with you, Kalarian. I think it best that Houses Deneith and Jorasco be seen together amongst the Coin Lords...or those who may decide things for them. Besides, as we have already been no doubt seen together, it would seem somewhat curious if we suddenly split up, no?"

[Darren]

Kalarian slaps his knees and stands, suddenly full of energy. "Then we are agreed. Belarin, finish up your doodling and make your way to Bogwater. Streko and I will follow behind some time later. Condign, of course, will watch our backs as we stroll the streets of this city. Adamant will attend to you, and Shorak, you keep an eye on them from the shadows."

Kal looks serious as his eyes scan his companions. He stops at Sem. "Would you join us on this bit of mis-adventure? We could use another set of eyes watching from a distance."

[Ken]

Jul 9, 2012 17:39:35 GMT -4 Dave W. said:

"if a mere guard could venture his opinion," Adamant says lightly, "the Bogwater sounds like the sort of place Master Nerrin believes he should frequent."

Adamant's right eye dims almost to dark then flashes back to normal, matching the left in brightness. He nudges Condign, "Did you see the wink... Did I get it correct? I've been practicing..."

Belarin makes a very Nerrin-like grunt of disappointment. "The hired help these days..." he says. Then he smiles and continues normally, "Yes, that sounds ideal. Thank you... Shorak, Kal. And I'm just about done with this particular 'doodle,' having imbued it with authentic-sounding but sufficiently insane fey references.... something I'm an expert in. Heh.

"Attend, please, Kal. Your 'negotiation' with Nerrin will go less harmoniously if you have better understanding of what he's displaying..." And with that, Belarin shows his friend the details of the map and begins explains the real and not-so-real information within. Minutes later, he finishes by saying, "Now, you wouldn't -- and shouldn't -- know the meanings of the Sylvan references within, and you certainly shouldn't take Nerrin's word at face value. The need to verify some of these obscure terms should give you a good excuse to stall Nerrin." He smiles. "Of course, he won't like that."

Once all the preparation is done, Belarin reapplies his makeup and heads out with his two "servants."

_____________
Simul-posted with Darren, so I edited this slightly.

[Jeff]

"Wouldn't pass on the chance," Sem answers Kal. "I've spent all day with a flea-bitten, walking hat rack and a university professor as fun to be with as a beakless, pirateless parrot. It sounds to me like the real parties are with you folks." Sem gathers his meager trappings and readies to go.

Rinti remains behind with Starg. Histra has already vanished.

And so, in your respective groups, you set out, with Shorak leading the way. To reach the Temple district, you pass through Oldgate, the Aundairian and Thranish part of the city. It's quieter, more ordered, and at night, with a lot of closed establishments. Only a few taverns show signs of life, but they look no-nonsense compared to where you're going. And, unless you're Aundairian or Thranish, probably best to avoid.

In stark contrast, upon reaching Temple, you find a far livelier, welcoming place. This district is active even at night because, as Shorak has pointed out, it's the center of the city's culture and art. The everbright lanterns and torchlights are numerous. Bright colors are prevalent, pennants fly all around, and entertainers dress like colorblind magpies.

At one point, Shorak points out the Onyx Fountain, an unassuming structure which you imagine is far more interesting on the inside.

As you approach the location of the Bogwater Tavern, you begin to understand the name. There is a damp, wet, earthy smell of bogs and standing water in this district, but it's immediately offset by the vibrant tang of spices on the wind, or the hint of incense and oils from the temples.

You're not sure whether the mood of this part of the city is blasphemous or spiritually evocative. There is an a cacophony of shouts, temple adepts ‘selling’ their wares as though gods were goods at market. Hawkers drawing attention to their sweetmeats and savories, bards plucking at their instruments and calling out the merits of their plays and, booming over all of it, the performance of the local theatres.

Despite all this, most of you are physically weary, still. Whatever comes next will probably burn through the last reservoirs of energy you've got for the day. Hopefully without crashing weapons and spellfire.

Take note of the location in the upper right corner of the map:

The Bogwater Tavern proves to be an interesting place. When you first see it, you think, curious outdoor theater/druid circle with built-in bar? At a glance, it looks like a massive slab of circular stone like some great primitive giants' calendar, laid flat. It's large, is raised up on big stone blocks so the stony floor is more than five feet above the street level (and several feet above the swampy mires just outside the city nearby), has walls encircling it, and has many wide, arched windows giving people on the street a view of its upper half.

On one side of the circle a smaller circle serves as a bar. On the opposite side is a wooden stage built up against the north side. Behind that is the dark gloom of Xen'drik jungle. In between the two sides are a large number of tables and chairs, spaced wide apart, almost resembling ornately carved picnic tables than tavern furniture. On the swamp side, there are also a few trees that have grown up next to the building, winding vines through the windows. All in all, the exposed nature of the Bogwater Tavern makes it look vulnerable to attack—if giants did come storming out of the jungle, surely this place would be easily ransacked. You can only assume there are less obvious defenses in place.

Shortly after you arrive, a slow and steady rain begins to fall. But despite lacking a ceiling, it stays dry inside. Your best guess is that magic has been used to redirect the rain. It's a neat effect. Cool lights around the tavern provide dim but serviceable light. At present, there is no performance going on, but there is a single lyre-strumming elf sitting at the edge of the stage. It's hard to tell at this hour, but you suspect the swampland just beyond the windows have been shaped into some sort of garden. You hear a few remarks from patrons suggesting this.

Condign finds a place in the street to stand guard discretely. Belarin, Shorak, and Adamant go into the tavern first. Kal and Streko enter a short while later. Somewhere along the way to the Bogwater Tavern, Sem seems to have disappeared. He said he'd catch up, though.

Humans, elves, and half-elves are the most common here, but a handful of the other peoples fill in most of the tables. All in all, it's a tranquil place, and the clientele seems thoughtful, comfortable, and keen-eyed. The barkeep is a female half-elf in practical, but form-fitting clothing. She seems a witty woman, attending to each customer's needs as they arise, with an apron-wearing man you think may be a thin half-orc helping her out. You see no waiters or barmaids.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground by herself near the swamp side of the tavern, you see a giant woman. She is probably as tall as a hill giant, but is willowy in shape, and she is green-skinned, with long dreadlocked black hair. Not knowing if there's a proper name for her kind, Shorak has heard them referred to simply as jungle giants. She definitely has a druidic look to her, and swaths of color like war paint have been traced along her skin.

[Dave B.]

Shorak looks out at the Jungle in the distance with not a small amount of longing. It has been over two months now since he has traveled through his old home. He smiles, knowing that it won't be long before he gets to visit that place.

After Belarin settles himself, Shorak finds a seat that is as shadowy as possible and has a good view of the human. Not wanting to draw any undue attention and he is hungry after all, Shorak orders a meal and wolfs it down. Only a few bites remain when Kal & Streko enter. He sits back to enjoy the show.

[Ken]

Belarin limps in as Nerrin, with Adamant a step ahead to clear the way. He realizes suddenly that, considering the Bogwater Tavern's location, the Silver Flame expedition that they spotted earlier in the Black Wrack could very well be here, too. That could be a good thing, as it would give the expedition's female associate another chance to follow up on the seeds they planted this afternoon.... or it could be a bad thing, if the woman concludes that the repeat appearance might not be the coincidence that it is!

The voices in Belarin's consciousness giggle at the possibilities. Nerrin's mental voice cuts through the chatter. That's enough, you rabble. I swear, I don't understand you nattering fey creatures....

Belarin interjects, Nerrin, behave. You need to focus. Really, can't a man's mind have a little peace and quiet when a massive amount of lying is about to occur?

He looks for an appropriate -- and open -- table. He spies one just recently vacated, near but not adjacent to a wall, and next to a table with two shifters and a half-orc woman whose sensuous musculature Belarin finds oddly stimulating. Nerrin's mental voice again cuts in: Ah ha! Now YOU need to focus, you uncouth simpleton! If need be, I'll find Histra's voice in here, too... Belarin reacts with alarm: No! You wouldn't dare...! Silence.

Belarin speaks aloud in Nerrin's voice, "Redoubt, that table. Quickly. The empty one with the remains of the previous meal still on it. Disappointing. At least I won't feel bad about leaving a gratuity. Clear a seat for me."

After taking a seat and ordering a glass of wine, he begins looking about -- casually at first, then a bit nervously as the minutes go by. Muttering, he withdraws the scroll case -- with the map inside -- from his backpack and places it on the table. His left arm lays across it in a demonstrably protective fashion, while the fingers of his right hand tap the wine glass with increasing agitation.

"Where is that Deneith jackanapes, Redoubt?" he says with a whine. "He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago! Feh. I'll be sure to remind him that he's not the only interested party."

[Dave W.]

Jul 11, 2012 20:30:18 GMT -4 Ken said:

Belarin limps in as Nerrin, with Adamant a step ahead to clear the way.
...
Belarin speaks aloud in Nerrin's voice, "Redoubt, that table. Quickly. The empty one with the remains of the previous meal still on it. Disappointing. At least I won't feel bad about leaving a gratuity. Clear a seat for me." 
 

"Certianly, Master Nerrin," Redoubt replies limping more dramatically to gather up the dishes. "because years of training in a variety of weapons and fighting in numerous battles against creatures human-like, un-human-like, and even dead creatures are common requirements for clearing tables." 

Redoubt looks about for a place to set he dirty plates and bowls. Finally, he sets them on a window ledge. He moves back to sit next to Nerrin. The wood chair complains at Redoubt's heavy frame. 

"Where is that Deneith jackanapes, Redoubt?" he says with a whine. "He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago! Feh. I'll be sure to remind him that he's not the only interested party."

"Well, I'm afraid my time as a busboy has completely blocked my ability to see why people I don't know are late to meetings."

"Truly, I care not who buys the map," Adamant continues, making no effort to not be overheard. "Traveling across the water was uncomfortable enough, being chased by that murderous vampire Krez is really intolerable. I wish you had simply sold it in Sharn."

"Yes, I know," the warforged waves off Nerrin's objection, "it will fetch a better price here closer to where it could be used."

[Darren]

There is a loud bang as Kalarian pushes the door open hard. He crashes into the room, his voice over-loud. He speaks to Streko as though he were in mid-conversation when they entered. "I don't know, Streko. This man claims that his map is valuable and shows the location we need. I think he's probably just another idiot out to swindle Deneith, but it's my responsibility to at least hear him out."

Kalarian catches the attention of the best looking serving girl in the bar as he walks through the room. "A glass of your finest wine, my dear," he says with a grin. "Now, where is that ridiculous....ah! There he is."

Kal drops himself into a chair opposite Nerrin and props his feet up on the table. "Impress me, Master Nerrin," he says, spreading his hands wide and giving Belarin an indulgent smile.

_________________
Jeff, it occurs to me that we never mentioned stopping at the bank to pick up some cash. Can we assume that happened, or that Kal got some coins from someone else in the group?

[Jeff]

The barkeep is a female half-elf in practical, but form-fitting clothing. She seems a witty woman, attending to each customer's needs as they arise, with an apron-wearing man you think may be a thin half-orc helping her out. You see no waiters or barmaids.

Kalarian catches the attention of the best looking serving girl in the bar as he walks through the room. "A glass of your finest wine, my dear," he says with a grin.

But Kal realizes there is no serving girl, and he's forced to request the wine from the barkeep directly. She's an older woman, but still a bit of a looker. She fetches his wine in short order.

Shorak, watching from the side, sees that at the moment three tables in particular are watching Belarin and Kal:

A pair of dark-haired elves, each clad like rangers.

A sizeable group of mixed humans and merchant-looking dwarves.

A human man wearing the robes of a wizard, and with a staff in his grip.

No sooner does Kal start talking that a gnome enters the tavern. Elderly, walking with a crooked cane, and wearing a wide-brimmed hat and colorful, almost bardic garb, he gives the large, open-to-the-sky room a look, then hobbles over to a table close to Kal and Belarin.

________________________

Yup, no prob. The group's generally got access to the party cash. Though now I can't remember if it was agreed that Shorak's amount would be added to the general pool...

I love that Adamant is playing a sassy butler, like Mr. Belvedere or something.

[Ken]

Nerrin sits up straight as Kal enters. There's an eager, if slight smile on his face, as though something he's been anticipating for a long time may finally happen. The smile diminishes a bit as Kalarian -- and his demonstrably showy manner -- get closer.

Jul 11, 2012 23:56:50 GMT -4 Darren said:

Kal drops himself into a chair opposite Nerrin and props his feet up on the table. "Impress me, Master Nerrin," he says, spreading his hands wide and giving Belarin an indulgent smile.

By this time, Nerrin's tiny smile is now a relatively straight line. He glances over at Adamant. "Redoubt, do you have a mirror for Lord Kalarian...? No, of course not." He addresses Kal warmly despite the thin smile. "Good evening, my lord. You look much better. I apologize for my inopportune appearance earlier today while you were ... indisposed. It was only that you were among the first to express interest in the ... item." He taps the map case. "And thus I wanted you to have the first glance at the merchandise. There have been other inquiries today, but a member of your House once did me a great service...

"Ah, I'm prattling again, yes, I know, Redoubt!" He curses under his breath. Whether it's directed at the warforged, himself, or Kal is uncertain. He continues in a straightforward yet softer voice.

"All right, Lord Kalarian, as I mentioned in our original communication, this document came to my possession by way of my former duties within..." He glances around nervously, his gaze resting briefly and apprehensively on the gnome who just entered. "...within House Orien. Back in Sharn. It had been found in the wreckage of an old Cyran vessel, and sent to us for authentication and filing. Those who found it, though, didn't know what it meant -- but I did! One of the advantages of my position was that information from all over Aundair came across my desk. Scattered, meaningless fragments to most -- but to me, they were pieces of a golden puzzle, depicting a heretofore unknown path directly to that which it seems hundreds have come to Stormreach to find! That is the information within this case, my lord... and I will give it to YOU, if we can come to terms."

With the setup complete, Nerrin opens the scroll case -- then pauses to place two thin gloves on his hands. "Indulge me, my lord. Do not touch the parchment with your bare fingers. I believe it is most fragile." He looks at Kal's hands disconcertingly, as though examining the tips of them and finding them disappointingly crude. He then carefully unrolls the map, stopping when it's about two-thirds of the way open. "You will understand, Lord Kalarian, if I care to withhold some knowledge until I properly gauge your interest, yes?"

[Darren]

Kal hastily takes the wine cup as it is brought to him. A bit sloshes onto the table, and he looks up at Nerrin. Noticing the man's concern, he simply shrugs, raises the cup slightly in toast, then takes a long drink.

Nerrin's unfolding of the map gets Kalarian's attention, though. His heels thump heavily onto the floor along with the chair as he leans forward to examine the map more closely. "Can it really be?" he says quietly. He begins to glance quickly around the room, as though suddenly realizing the importance of what they're looking at. Things have, as they say, gotten real.

"Streko, are you seeing this?" He points to a section of the map, indicating something there. "This...this is...." Kal stops himself, his eyes drifting up to Nerrin. The man's smug smile makes Kal angry. Nerrin's smug smile, or Belarin's? Hmmm....

Kal leans back in his chair and folds his arms. "Okay, Master Nerrin. You have my attention. So how do I know this is genuine?"

[Dave B.]

After the initial salvo between Kal and Nerrin, Shorak leans deeper into the shadows and keeps a closer eye on the three tables that have taken an interest in the performance taking place.

[Joe]

"Streko, are you seeing this?" He points to a section of the map, indicating something there. "This...this is...." Kal stops himself, his eyes drifting up to Nerrin. The man's smug smile makes Kal angry.

"I do, my Lord Kalarian! However, if I may be so bold..."

He looks at Nerrin and frowns, then smiles coldly.

"How do we know it's authentic? This map could have been drawn up by amateurs. Or even our enemies! We have not yet discussed...coin...but I assure you, neither my Lord Kalarian nor myself will pay for something that we cannot authenticate."

[Jeff]

Meanwhile...

While standing outside on the street, eyeing the foot traffic, Condign sees a group of five lightly armored men approaching the tavern. Their weapons are sheathed, but they look competent. One of them has a heavy crossbow strapped to his back. They walk with a youthful swagger.

[Brian]

Condign positions himself in an alleyway across from the Bogwater Tavern. As the sun sinks low in the horizon, shadows gather about him, hugging his devilish form, shrouding him in a comfortable darkness. In most cases, function trumps form, but sometimes they are an amalgam. Tonight he is a midnight warrior. A dark knight.

He chuckles softly and shakes his head. I've been spending too much time with Kalarian, he thinks. Keep it up, and soon I will outgrow my own horns.

It is almost a full bell before his hand slides down to the hilt of his sword. A heartbeat later, he recognizes the soft scrape of footfalls. His eyes slide to the source of the sound: five men--boys really, by the look of them. Swaddlers, barely our of their short-pants. Not much to be concerned about, but worth his note.

Condign quietly pulls his hood over his face and watches.

[Jeff]

Oblivious to the tiefling-in-the-shadows, the five warriors march up the steps to the Bogwater, yank open the door, and stride in...

When they come in the room, heads across the common room turn to regard them. No one seems alarmed, but most folk seem to want to know when armed strangers approach. The men, mercenaries by the look of them, idle near the front of the room, while one of them walks up and speaks quietly to the barkeep. All of them regarding Kal and Belarin, and clearly appear to be trying to see what the fuss is.

The elderly gnome at the nearby table, in the wide-brimmed hat, shakes his head at the newcomers, then very obviously strains to hear more of what Kal and Belarin are saying.

[Brian]

Letting his breath seep from between his lips, Condign eases his hand from the sword hilt. Youngsters, indeed. Nevertheless, even Kalarian may have trouble with the likes of those....

Trusting to the wisdom of his friends, Condign stays concealed within the shadows of the night. If he is needed, he will soon know.

[Darren]

Kal catches sight of the newcomers out of the corner of his eye, but expresses no outward reaction to their presence. "Subtle," he mutters, just loud enough for Streko and Belarin to hear him. "Let's show them how it's done."

Kal bangs a fist down on the table, and sparks shoot up from his closed hand. "Do not try to cheat me," he growls at Nerrin. "Others have tried and found the results were not to their liking."

[Ken]

Nerrin barks angrily. "No need for threats, Lord Kalarian! Really!" He raises a restraining hand toward Redoubt. "In fact, my zealous lord, I was about to say that your compatriot here is quite wise." He indicates Streko with a curt nod. He then extends a corner of the parchment toward Streko. "Please, sir, feel free to cut away this tiny bit of the map. Subject it to whatever alchemical or magical tests you like to confirm the parchment's age. As for the authenticity of its contents, look here.... "

He turns the map around to point at a particular section. "See this odd-looking script, a notation near the Ring of Storms? You likely can't read it, can you? A bit like Elven, but not quite?" The bureaucrat leans back slightly, a triumphantly smug smile on his face. He seems to be relishing the moment. It's as though, for the first time in his life, Nerrin Blackwell is wielding a bit of power. Over a dragonmarked lord, no less. "That is because it's an ancient form of the Sylvan tongue, the language of the fey. Of Thelanis. You'll see other Sylvan notations written throughout. The reason? The path leading directly to..." He looks arounds and says softly, "...leading directly to Gerhest is enchanted. To find it, you'll need to translate all these phrases... and of course you'll need this map."

He takes a drink. "So, my lord, do I have your interest? Or should I follow up on my conversation with Lady Diesa d'Kundarak?"

[Dave B.]

Shorak notes the new arrivals to the Bogwater. He notes them well and strains to here the whispering between the mercenary and the barkeep. For the moment he ignores all but them. Studying the men carefully, trusting to his instincts, Shorak assesses whether these young, but seemingly able fighters are a threat to any of his friends.

[Dave W.]

At first, Kal's display makes Adamant want to giggle, he's seen it done before and to see it aimed at Belarin is somehow comical. 

Oh, but he's not Belarin, right. And I'm Redoubt the bodyguard... I should react to that...

Just as Redoubt places his heavy metal hands on the table and starts to lean forward, Belarin waves him off. He sits back down, heavily; the chair protesting instead of him.

Adamant almost laughs at himself; at this brand of friends all pretending these outlandish behaviors.

Instead he tries to surreptitiously observe the rest of the room.

[Jeff]

The mercenary-looking human settle in on a table, but their leader lingers by the far for several long moments, staring rather overtly at Belarin and Kal. Then, after a couple of minutes, he strides up to stand several paces away from their table.

The leader is young, possibly only a year or two older than Kal or Belarin. He looks like a fresh war veteran, capable but limited in experience. When he speaks, his accent is vaguely Brelish. He actually looks a little bit nervous, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, despite his swaggering posture.

Looking at Belarin, he says, "You. I heard you got yourself a map. To somewhere....rather promising. Where to? Some sort of ruin, right? Far away?"

[Darren]

Leaning over the table, Kal's head swivels slowly to face the newcomer. He scowls as he leans back in his chair, shifting his sharrash to lean against his other shoulder and dropping his other hand down to scratch Tangat behind the ears. "Excuse me, but I don't believe I've had the pleasure of an introduction, and you must be someone rather important to interrupt my conversation like that."

[Jeff]

The mercenary glares at Kal. "This isn't....Dragonmarked Land. This is Stormreach, and you got no more say here than anyone." He turns back to Belarin. "If this map is for real, my employer can probably afford more than this fool." He jerks his thumb at Kal.

"How about I take a look at it?" he goes on.

Meanwhile, a few more heads have turned toward the conversation, which has grown a little louder.

[Dave B.]

Shorak shakes his head as he sees the young mercenary approach Kal and Belarin's table and makes his demands and insults. He goes about checking his assorted weaponry for ease of drawing from their respective sheathes, just in case.

[Ken]

Belarin/Nerrin stares as though he's addressing a talking cow. "Of course, young man, you may have a look at it. Simply make an appointment with my attache, Redoubt, here," he says, making a dismissive wave that seems to include the mercenary and Adamant. "At the moment - as should be obvious - I am in the middle of a conversation with this man, whatshisname. No need to pout, lad - I'll get to you. Redoubt..." Although the volume of his voice doesn't change, the tone becomes cooler as he speaks to Adamant while keeping his eyes on the mercenary. "See to this Polite Young Man's needs. Won't you?"

[Darren]

Kal grins, but it is not friendly. His hand tightens around the hilt of his Rekkenmark longsword. "I assure you, I have far more say here than you could ever dream to. If you ever speak to your superiors in that manner again, I will be certain to teach you a proper lesson. For now, you can consider this a warning and we'll speak no more of it." Kal's grip on the longsword loosens, but not the one on his sharrash. He waves with his free hand towards Belarin. "Now, as this man said, we were having a conversation, and you were not invited. Go wait on the other side of the room until you are called."

_____________________
Darn it, Kal just isn't good at not starting fights.