Chapter 11: This Civilized Veneer

[Darren]

Kal spreads his hands wide. "I assure you, he's quite well behaved." Seeing that the man is unswayed, Kal shakes his head. "No? Very well, then. Tangat, wait outside. Bark and come running at the first sign of danger." Kal smiles at the bartender as Tangat walks out. "See, then? No problems..."

Kalarian moves to a corner of the room and sits noisily in a chair, staring icily at Nerrin.

[Brian]

Condign follows a respectful distance behind Kal, then takes a position behind him. His hand rests lightly, but casually, on the hilt of his sword. Then he grins, exposing his sharp teeth.

"What would my lords like to drink?" he asks Kal and Streko.

[Dave B.]

"Master Nerrin?" Shorak asks, motioning to the few tables, allowing him to choose where to sit. He follows Belarin and sits in one of the chairs, turning it so he has as clear a view as possible to both stairs leading up and the entrance to the Black Freighter. He does not remove his hood completely, but pulls it back enough to allow for better peripheral vision.

[Joe]

Oct 7, 2012 11:35:47 GMT -4 Brian said:

Condign follows a respectful distance behind Kal, then takes a position behind him. His hand rests lightly, but casually, on the hilt of his sword. Then he grins, exposing his sharp teeth.

"What would my lords like to drink?" he asks Kal and Streko.

"My initial response is to request a local ale, but I'd rather be of full faculty this evening. So, perhaps something safe to drink...somthing that has been purified, most preferably."

[Dave W.]

Oct 6, 2012 21:16:38 GMT -4 Jeff said:

As Belarin, Adamant, and Shorak step through, all eyes turn their way. Someone deep in his cups calls out, "What's the 'forged gonna drink?" Someone else laughs.

"Oh yes," Adamant is more comfortable playing Redoubt in this Tavern than he was on the street in view of children, "I see, because my race does not consume. Yes, very clever. I'm sure I've never heard that before. Most perceptive." He adds both an edge and sad tones to his voice, though he's certain the drunk will miss e subtlety. 

[Darren]

"A Karnathi rum would be excellent," Kal says, never taking his eyes from Nerrin.

[Ken]

Nerrin sits down... and then glares when he sees Kalarian and his party following inside. "Take note, Redoubt, Shorak," he says scornfully and with no attempt to hide his comments from Kal's party. "It is as I've said: Those in society who are accustomed to receiving rewards without effort often tend to become alarmed and indignant when others suggest that they actually try to earn such a reward. Tsk tsk."

He looks over to Shorak and says more softly, "Shorak, get me some ale." He slides over a couple of coins. "Oh, and um, yourself something as well. And feel free to make a recommendation as to how to start a conversation here about... commerce?"

[Mike]

"I'm not eager to test Krez's talents for locating you either," Syrdan replies to Lerrhana. "It's why I'm hoping that this White Raven might prove to be a good source of information. Whenever we meet up with Krez again, I'd like it to be at a place and time of our choosing, not his."

"As for the d'Deneith heir, he is a good man," Syrdan replies. "He means well, which is more than I can say for most."

The elf continues to watch the area, keeping vigilant as he looks for any signs of trouble.

[Jeff]

Syrdan and Lerrhana watch as a few more people head over toward the Freighter. Nothing seems amiss about it. They look like no threat, just tired laborers who ending a shift that probably went all night and through half the day.

Inside, a dwarf woman at the bar swivels on her stool and points her tankard at Adamant. She clears her throat loudly and addresses the warforged. "Don't you be sittin' down. Chairs're in short supply. Only for drinkers, got it?"

One of locals walks up to the bar. You can't hear all of what he says, but you do pick up the bartender's name: Smargat. The hatted man pulls out a few bottles and mixes a drink for the patron. From his seat, Kal also spots a few bottles on the shelf behind the man of Nightwood Ale, the favored drink of Karrns; so prominant is Nightwood that it's also one of the nation's most famous exports.

Outside, Lerrhana stiffens and grabs Syrdan's arm. She turns him slowly around. He sees two men walking casually toward the Freighter, not long after the laborers. Unlike those, these men are armored, walk with straighter posture, and with eyes scanning their field of vision. They don't seem to notice the two elves, though. They carry blades and even flails strapped to their backs. Though their distinctive helmets are under their arms, it's impossible to miss the green and white tabards of the Order of the Emerald Claw.

[Brian]

Condign steps up to the bar and waits for the other patron to finish getting his drink. When the man steps away, the tielfing places his order. He gets no drink himself. It wouldn't fit his idiom at the moment.

[Dave B.]

"Any particular ale or just any old swill?" In a much quieter voice, "I could ask the barkeep about the party in question. Maybe try to set up an introduction, or a meeting."

[Ken]

"'Any old swill'?" says Nerrin, but with Belarin's mischievous eyes. He adds quietly, "There are certain areas where I'd settle for less, Shorak, even on quests such as this. Liquor is not one of them. The good stuff, if you please." He winks.

As Shorak heads over to the bar, Nerrin leans back in his chair as though to relax... and Belarin extends his concentration on the common room's interior, seeking mystical auras... from the employees, to the various entrances and doorways.

_____________________
Taking a minute to detect magic: Arcana check (Detect Magic) (1d20+15=27)

[Mike]

Seeing the Emerald Claw tabards, Syrdan raises an eyebrow in mild surprise - and disgust. Seeing them heading towards the Black Freighter, though, makes his brow furrow in worry.

"Hard to believe that's just coincidence," Syrdan murmurs to Lerrhana, as he motions to the approaching Emerald Claw soldiers. "And even if that is pure chance, it's certainly not good. Let's see if we can let our friends know about them, eh?"

Syrdan picks up a small rock, and begins to head over to the Freighter ... and specifically, towards Tangat. As he walks towards the dog, he tosses the rock in its direction (assuming he gets a clear shot), not trying to hit it, but rather trying to simply get its attention. If he succeeds, he nods towards the approaching Claw soldiers.

"I hate dogs," Syrdan says to no one in particular. "Mangy, festering mutts ... feh."

[Dave W.]

Oct 8, 2012 12:31:42 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Inside, a dwarf woman at the bar swivels on her stool and points her tankard at Adamant. She clears her throat loudly and addresses the warforged. "Don't you be sittin' down. Chairs're in short supply. Only for drinkers, got it?"

"Oh, certainly, perhaps I'll just stand against a wall and rust a while." Adamant moves to stand near Belarin. "Please Master Nerrin, let us sell this map and get out of this terribly hospitable city."

--------------
by "stand near" I of course mean "adjacent" in game terms.

[Jeff]

Tangat paces around the gangplank of the Freighter.

As Syrdan moves away from the wall of the building he's standing beside, Lerrhana glides a different direction. His stone skitters along the ground near Tangat's feet, largely unnoticed by everyone else. Tangat looks up, startled by the sound, and looks toward the rock. He doesn't immediately home in on the source. Then Syrdan hears a quiet, shrill barking sound from somewhere behind him, and Tangat swivels his head toward that.

Lerrhana, looking a little less conspicuous now but at least not seen by the Emerald Claw soldiers, stands apart, her hand cupped around her mouth. The wolfdog cocks his head as he looks toward Lerrhana, then looks at Syrdan and sees him gesturing. Then he looks at the Claw soldiers.

Without hesitation, Tangat turns and trots back up the gangplank. One of the soldiers notices this and throws his head over his shoulder to look back. Both Syrdan and Lerrhana, now standing in different places, make their hooded appearances look as commonplace as possible.

Inside the Freighter, Belarin detects magical emanations from a few items around the room: the everbright lanterns, an inconspicuous coil of rope near the front door, and an object or two on the barkeep's person.

Tangat pops through the open door and skitters across the wood floor to Kal. He woofs quietly but urgently, and Kal understands the familiar sound: Someone or something worth being concerned about is coming.

"D'Deneith!" the barkeep calls out in a raspy voice. "The dog. Keep it outside...my lord." His words are polite but his tone is not offering a debate.

[Darren]

"Understood," Kal says, looking first at the bartender but then down at Tangat, the word clearly meant for both of them. He gestures towards the door, motioning for the dog to resume his post outside.

Noticing the newcomers, Kal clears his throat and looks at Condign, then nods towards them. His message is also clear: Unwanted company...

[Brian]

Condign glances over his shoulder at Tangat, then catches Kal's warning look. With a heavy sigh, he turns and picks up the drinks.

"Just remember," he says to the bartender. "We did not start it."

Then, striding back to the table, he sets the mugs down in front of his 'lords' and resumes his position behind Kalarian. He looks expectantly at the entrance to the Black Freighter, his hand back on his sword hilt.

[Dave B.]

Now what? Shorak thinks as he orders drinks for Belarin and himself just before Tangat comes running into the inn. He keeps an eye on the entrance when he realizes what the situation is.

[Joe]

Tangat's cry of alarm is not unexpected. Streko rolls his shoulders and stands up, turning to face the doorway.

"Whereever we go, there they are," Streko says. "Whoever THEY may be."

The halfling pulls out his holy symbol and lets it rest on his chest.

"Who could it be this time, I wonder? Living or dead? Either or both?"

Streko begins flipping the domino on his chest back and forth, a nervous twitch he immediately stops as soon as he notices himself doing it.

"Traveller's breath, but I"m getting too old for this!"

[Ken]

Of the items whose auras Belarin detects, none concern him as much as the rope. Animated by command? he wonders. Something to keep in mind if they...

His thoughts are interrupted by Tangat's sudden, odd reappearance. He knows that Tangat isn't the type to disobey Kal's command. Not unless something else is going on that he can't see. He continues to feign relaxation, but his hand taps gently against the black candle at his belt -- before going on to settle more assuredly on the much-missed pommel of his fey-gifted dagger hidden within his clothes.

[Jeff]

Tangat skitters back outside and scoots past the Emerald Claw soldiers going up the plank. One man throws a lazy kick toward the animal to get it out of the way, but Tangat easily leaps aside and ambles back into the street. A small child wandering alone starts waving and calling to him.

Then the Claw soldiers step through the entrance. They don't immediately notice anything amiss and head straight for the bar. Their appearance is marked by everyone in the room, but none are alarmed...except the newcomers aware of Tangat's warning.

As one man starts talking to the bartender, the other quickly homes in on Adamant. He turns and rests his back against the bar, nudging his companion. Soon both men are taking measure of both parties at the separate tables: Belarin and his unusual companions, and Kal and his. Curiously, their stares—which quickly become glares—seem to overlook Streko, though he's sitting right next to Kal. Perhaps a priest is not so uncommon, nor a halfling.

But though the soldiers' interest is clearly aroused by your presence, nothing in their manner suggests to you recognition. And you certainly don't recognize these particular men. One is young, the other slightly older.

[Darren]

Kal leans back further into his chair. The blade of his sharrash dangles behind his head, swinging like a pendulum every time Kal shifts his folded arms. He takes a drink from the cup Condign brought him, then leans slightly towards Streko and pitches his voice low for the halfling and tiefling alone. "Do not be too alarmed. Remember, this is a Karnathi controlled area and these men are Karns. There is nothing particular unusual about their presence here. The plan does not change. Seek no trouble...."

With a smile, Kal raises his cup slightly towards the men and offers them a nod. Then he returns to watching Nerrin, the Claw soldiers seemingly out of his mind. It is, of course, only an act.

[Brian]

Condign maintains his air of indifference to the Claw soldiers, focusing more on attending to his lords' needs. Still, he makes note of the doors into and out of the room, as well as reactions of the other patrons to the soldiers presence--would they be allies or enemies were a fight to break out? And are the tables set on the floor or bolted down. The bottles behind the bar could be used as weapons, and undoubtedly the barkeep has a means to keep the peace and should be watched. Then there's...

Condign rolls his eyes. (Which, being a solid gold color, is hard for others to detect.) Keeping one's lords safe is complicated work.

[Joe]

Oct 11, 2012 7:17:15 GMT -4 Darren said:

Kal leans back further into his chair. The blade of his sharrash dangles behind his head, swinging like a pendulum every time Kal shifts his folded arms. He takes a drink from the cup Condign brought him, then leans slightly towards Streko and pitches his voice low for the halfling and tiefling alone. "Do not be too alarmed. Remember, this is a Karnathi controlled area and these men are Karns. There is nothing particular unusual about their presence here. The plan does not change. Seek no trouble...."

Streko nods so that Kal knows he's heard, but otherwise remains quietly watching the guards.

Odd, that they don't notice a Jorasco cleric of Olladra standing in a bar glaring meaningfully at them, he thinks.

He turns to Kal and cocks his head slightly. "You? You are telling US to seek no trouble? Gods above and below, but Eberron has flipped upside down in the last few moments."

He smiles at Kal and nods again. "No trouble it is."

[Dave B.]

Shorak was going to try to feel out the bartender, to see if he could get some information from him. But, when the Emerald Claw soldiers enter, he just pays for the drinks and heads back to the table, placing the glass of Karn whiskey in front of Belarin and seats himself back down with his Karn ale.

"Your drink, Master Nerrin." He takes a small sip of the ale and then places it on the table and quietly says to Belarin, "What now?"

[Mike]

"Damnation," Syrdan mutters as he looks around, "I could've sworn I saw that messenger here ... guess not." He pretends to look around a bit more, fully expecting to hear the clash of striking steel and exploding spells erupt from the Black Freighter.

When, instead, Tangat comes trotting out of the Freighter, a thin smile creeps to the elf's lips. He says nothing for several moments, simply watching the dog's, his eyes gazing directly into Tangat's. He gives the dog a slight nod, and then turns on his heel.

"Nothing," Syrdan says to Lerrhana, as he heads back to their original post by the abandoned shop. "For now."

[Dave W.]

Oct 11, 2012 21:21:32 GMT -4 Dave B. said:

"Your drink, Master Nerrin." He takes a small sip of the ale and then places it on the table and quietly says to Belarin, "What now?"

"Yes, Master Nerrin, what now?" Adamant scans the crowd, "Do you truly believe one of these has the wherewithal to compete for information of the value you possess?"

"This city is far too hot and," the warforged glances at the bar, "inhospitable."

[Ken]

Belarin scans the surrounding and tries not to pay too much attention to the Claw soldiers. ''Well," he says quietly as Nerrin to Shorak and Adamant, "there is not much to be done as long as those soldiers are here." He pauses. "No," he continues, though now almost to himself, "that's Belarin talking. But, oh my, bothersome little gnat that I am, well, I simply wouldn't be savvy enough to know the danger I was putting myself in, would I?" He smirks mischievously.

"Let us give them one more minute to enjoy their drinks," he says as Nerrin. "Then I shall get to the bottom of things, yes, indeed, I shall, as only Nerrin Blackwell can." He sips the drink. "Oh very nice, Shorak, thank you."

[Jeff]

Inside the Freighter, the soldiers of the Emerald Claw eventually lose interest in the newcomers. Or at least lose enough interest to glare. They each receive a mug of something and start drinking, opting to sit at the bar since the tables have all become full. They speak to one another quietly, and as the room begins to fill with the murmur of other voices, you can't make anything out.

The two men talk, occasionally look back toward Belarin's and Kal's groups, but otherwise seem relaxed. This is their turf, and they're obviously comfortable here. The other locals in the room seem at ease among them as well.

Smargat, the barkeep, at some point sets down his bottles and mugs and withdraws something from beneath the bar—a scroll, a paper of some kind?—briefly scans it, then puts it back. He doesn't throw any glances your way, though.

Outside the Freighter, Syrdan and Lerrhana have returned to their sentry positions. Dusk is approaching. They start to see more Emerald Claw soldiers. Not many, but a few at a time, going to and fro in the area. They are easily outnumbered by the other uniformed men and women, the locals armed like an organized militia, the Swords of Karrn. Both Syrdan and Lerrhana learned of them on their reconnaissance earlier, too. Unlike the Order of the Emerald Claw, the Swords of Karrn, as far as Syrdan understands it, do not necessarily mean trouble: they have no agenda beyond protecting the citizens of Southwatch and maintaining order. If vehemently so.

Syrdan hears a commotion of children nearby, and soon Tangat comes bolting out of the crowd. Wining a little, he dives into the shadows of the building and sits close to Syrdan, seemingly seeking refuge from the attention of others.

"There are elves in Karrnath," Lerrhana says to Syrdan, quietly. "Some as militant and vicious as the rest of those folk. Not many, but enough to surprise you." Syrdan also knows that Karrnath's queen, Queen Etrigani, was once a diplomat from Aerenal, and that may have put elves slightly more at ease in that cold northern realm. Even quieter, she says, "It was in Karrnath where I picked up Krez's trail. If you think this place threatening"—she gestures to the district around them—"then you would not like Atur or Korth, either."

[Ken]

Belarin takes another sip of the whiskey, sets it down, and says abruptly as Nerrin, "Oh, stop worrying, Redoubt. You're worse than my mother. Shewas a sergeant in the City Watch, by the way, so it's a high bar." He gets up and casually limps over to the bar, paying as much as attention to the Claw soldiers as he would a pair of daffodils.

"Excuse me," he says to the barkeep. His tone is businesslike: moderately polite, yet to the point. "Would it be possible to speak to the proprietor? I wish to discuss an opportunity he'd appreciate... another feather in his collection, so to speak."