04.01a - "Arrival in Elturel" (post-session RP)

Arriving in Elturel, A'postrofae looked lost, having no idea what to do.

Blak spends some time bending an ear to rumors and goings-ons as he caters to the crowds, playing tunes, dancing, singing ballads, and reciting poems. He heard a lot of rumors about cultists hitting villages and hamlets but nothing within 20 miles of Elturel, so it didn’t seem to be much concern from the people except for the few who had friends, family or trade out there. The vast majority of the raids seem to be bloodless, just mayhem and theft.

Brynne went off on the hunt for a Dwarven Tavern, or Dwarven ale and spirits, but was unsuccessful. However, she did notice that most drink houses do carry at least one kind of Dwarven ale and spirits.

You get the feeling, assuming how you asked that question specifically that the majority of "merchant" traffic is via the river. Due to the raids city traffic itself would've been on high alert. Most of this town's income is due to docking fees. Fees are surprisingly hefty.

A’postrofae nervously wandered off and explored the town,  looking very much like a homeless person that stole someone’s new coat. She began thinking that maybe a ripped dress and no shoes isn’t the best way to get into fights....maybe.

She was treated just like that homeless person she appeared to be, people giving her a wide berth, some mocking behind hands at her gaping at her surroundings. At one point someone even tosses a copper at her feet. A’postrofae picked it up and held it, staring at it.

A young woman clucked her tongue at Apos, "Oh you poor thing! What happened to you?"

“Nothing. what do you mean?” A’postrofae responded, looking at her quizzically.

The young lady looked taken aback. "i . . .uh . . well . . i mean . . .your . . .your outfit . . . your feet . . . your hair . . . your . . .EVERYTHING, darling. Are you okay?"

“I am maybe looking for new clothes. People keep telling me that these are bad.” A’postrofae said, looking down at her ripped dress, with creek and blood stains all over it. “Do you know where I can find fighting clothes?” she asked, looking directly at the woman.

"well . . .the coat is nice but I'm not sure the ... cloth ... underneath is even salvag- ... did you say FIGHTING clothes?"

A’postrofae nodded. “Yes, I fight things a lot and they are tearing my dress.”

"You fight with your boyfriend?"

A’postrofae snorts a laugh. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I fight things like kobolds and drakes”

"I'm ... not sure who Drake is ..." The young woman’s facial expressions and darting eyes show that she is now regretting getting involved in this conversation.

“So you don’t know where to get fighting clothes?” A’postrofae asked.

"uhh. I would try Hanks . . .it's about 3 blocks that way." Pointing, and clearly ready to end this conversation.”

“OK, thank you.” A’postrofae said, handing her the copper that she picked up off the ground and walking off toward Hanks.

Able finished putting all of his gear in his rented room and goes looking for somebody who can tell him why he hears the whispers. After wandering the town for about 30 minutes he eventually locates a shingle indicating a soothsayer's establishment down an alley, the constant daylight casting shadows over it. Able approached the shop as if to enter, and then turned away, stopping and shaking his head. Changing his mind yet again, he turned to face the door. "Rut it."

The door opened as he began reaching for it, causing Able to jump and let out a yelp. A crone appeared in the entryway. "I knew you'd be coming, deary."

Able composed himself and caught his breath. “Sorry, grandmother. You startled me." Chuckling to herself, she opens the door wide and just gestures inside. Skeptical of her opening pitch, Able squinted his eyes and asked “If you knew of my coming, then who am I?"

"Someone seeking answers" she said with a grin. Able remained skeptical but entered the home regardless. .

The heavy smell of incense assaulted his senses, as he walked into the shop, random nettings affixed to the walls containing small animal bones, and a plethora of skulls sitting in wall nooks. The front room contained only two chairs on either side of a table, covered with a dark cloth and an empty wooden tray.

Gesturing to the near chair, she said "Please sit. I am Madam Trundee, and while I knew you were coming, I do not know yet the question you seek an answer to until I hear it from your own lips."

Able took the proffered chair and leaned forward. "My Grandfather was one of the Wise. He used to do things like this for people in my village. I suppose I was hoping you could do the same for me."

"Do you know if he was taught our ways or born with them?" she asked.

"I'm not certain. He left me a book, so he may have learned them" Able said, absent-mindedly reaching for it to make sure it was still there.

Madam Trundee looked thoughtful for a brief second, then ask "Written in his hand or others?"

Able considered the question. "I do not know. I had not considered it until just now. I suppose it must be others - the hand is not consistent throughout."

Able could see her thinking. "So, learned magic and not innate sorcery then?"

"Apparently.” Able agreed.

"And you seek . . .what specifically?" She asked him

Able pulls the book out of his bag. "I have been learning from this book as well, and I have begun to notice side effects. I hear whispers around corners and in dark recesses"

The Madam considers Able for a moment. "Bird bones it is then . . . " reaching towards a netting behind her she started to grab at a smaller set of bones then pausing and turning back to peer at Able, she cocked her head slowly and shook it. "Bah . . . bones of a bat would be best." Able put his hand protectively over the pouch containing Bartholomew and Frulan's finger bones. She produced a wooden cup from under her chair, empties one of the nets of small bones in it and begins to shake it. Muttering to herself, she spat in the palm of her hand and tossed the bones into the tray, waving her hand over the tray slowly. A lick of spittle hit the tray and Able began  to smell ozone. Madame Trundee sat very still with her eyes closed for a while. Able cocked his head looking at her, then leaned in closer, thinking she had fallen asleep. The Madam suddenly opened her eyes and looked at Able, making him jump back again. "Pain. Lots of Pain. Past, present and future."

Able narrowed his eyes at the soothsayer. "I know of pain, grandmother. What of the voices. Who seeks entry to my mind?" Able recalled a strange passage from his grandfather's book. "All that came before will serve you, and you will serve those who come after" he repeats aloud.

"You are part of a lineage of TRAINED battle magi. Do you have an idea how rare that is?" She told him more energetically than he would have expected from the old woman.

Able looked nervously left, and then right. "No?"

"Usually that type of family tree is unique to the Red Wizards of Thay. Wizards do not necessarily beget Wizards."

"My Grandfather was from Thay" He told her.

"Being a wizard is usually a question of training and intelligence.” she said, getting up and pacing the room in thought. “Rarely is it reliably passed one generation to the next as a skill.In fact I would not be surprised if ALL the handwriting in that book of yours is familial. I've heard it tell that strong families can reach out and pierce the veil of death to speak with members of their clan, but that seems foolish ... present company excluded"

"Can I...learn to listen more closely?" Able asked. Madam Trundeed sits back down and looks at him.

"You have the innate ability by your bloodline. It depends on how much you focus on that skill. But the bones indicate much MUCH pain in your future . . . This could very well be the reason why. Beyond what I've told you, much is uncertain, child. Careful of the path you walk."The ozone smell dissipated and she held out her hand expectantly. Able reached into his coin purse and handed her 5 gold coins.

Gamble ducked down an alley, and pulled out his disguise kit to put a "glass eye" on his one eyed altered self. He tried to Gussy up the fake eye and make it look interesting like it's shiny and possibly expensive, and headed off to he book store. the door chimed as he walked in, seeing 4 people here perusing the books on the shelves. Gamble looked for the owner, finding a gnome holding an unlit pipe in his hand, sitting on a ludicrously tall still to overlook his store. He used a high shelf as a writing desk, glancing every so often between the papers and the patrons.

Gamble strode up to him. “Hello my good man, My name is Doctor Miles Moradin, purveyor of fine elixirs and draughts! What is you name good sir?”

The gnome peers down at the good doctor, and in a high pitched voice. "Lando"

“Greetings! I was wondering if you have any books on alchemy!”

Peering down upon "Miles" Lando frowns for a moment, the gnome clambers nimbly down his ridiculous stool. Wordlesly he gestures to be followed and head down several rows of strewn books and antique and arrives at corner. "words on magics and potions, help yourself, doc"

“Oh how wonderful, you have a lovely store!” Lando nodded, satisfied, and returned to his desk. Gamble began to look through the books, waiting until the gnome was back at his chair. Gamble waited until it appeared that no one is looking at him, and he removing the fake eye, placed it in an inner pocket.

After a minute he walked up to the counter and plopped down the book. He also opened his coin purse and made sure that the gnome can see its hefty contents. “Wonderful store my good man! Found what I needed in no time at all, I will recommend this to all my customers!”

Lando clambered down yet again to do business, taking the book and flipping through it to find his price then did a double take. "Er . .. doc ... bah? I must be seeing things"

“What is that my fine friend?”

"I could have sworn . . ."

Gamble slowly frowned and started to reach toward his eye hole. “Oh not again… It must have fallen out when I was bending to look at some books!”

"Oh my! Please allow my help!" Lando offered.

Gamble looked around his feet. “It is very precious to me! A gift from Count Jeremy Tornhorn of Secomber!” the gnome scampered over to the corner. “The Count was soooo impressed with my wonderful tonic that he ordered his best craftsman to create that eye! It's priceless! Well...to me anyways....”

"My my my!" Lando said, spending a minute or two looking through every nook and cranny, even enlisting the help of one of the patrons. He wipes some sweat from his brow, obviously not used to doing much besides sitting and observing. Looking back up at Gamble, he said in his high pitched voice, "No luck, friend. Where are you staying? Just in case we find it."

“oh this is terrible! Gamble said. I am staying at the Silvered Dagger for a couple of days then I plan to move on to Waterdeep. I should return within a month though. Tell anyone who finds it that I will personally give them a 500 gold piece reward for it's safe return, and I will also provide them with free elixirs of their choice!”

Lando looked shocked. "fi . . . five HUNDRED gold?"

Absolutely!” Gamble told him. “Although it does not look it, the eye has much value in it's components.”

Licking his lips thoughtfully, Lando asked "How so?"

“Well, I was not there at it's creation, the master craftsman wished to keep it a secret, but I heard that the iris is made from specially cut emeralds so they shine even in the darkest night. Indeed at night I can see it's faint glow when I close my other eye to sleep. But I cannot be certain, I am not a craftsmen, and it was rumor that I heard. I can only tell you my experience.” Gamble explained.

"One of a kind, indeed!" Lando said, trying to contain his excitement.

“Now my good man, for all this trouble I put you through I am sorry. Let me purchase this book from you. You have been such a great help.” Gamble told him.

Lando looked at the book and thought for a moment, "Normally that would run about 21 gold… "

“Here is 30!” Gamble told him, grabbing some coin.

Lando waved his hands. "Oh no! I couldn't possibly accept more than the asking price due to your misfortune... are you sure?"

“And take this!” Gamble said, producing an elixir from his pocket. “this is my invigorating elixir, it will make any man more virile than a god. Women will swoon at your bedroom skills! Absolutely, I have caused too much trouble than I am worth!” Spurting his confused thanks and excitement and possible profits should he find the missing eye, Lando accepts and slips the book in a nice, thick paper sack. “Thank you good man, remember, the Silvered Dagger, 500 gold!”

"Of Course Doctor!" Lando called out as Gamble left the shop, covering the eye hole, embarassed. The door shut behind him, Gamble grins and turns to walk toward the silvered dagger before he turned down an uninhabited alley, and dropped his arcane disguise and threw the alchemy book in the alleyway with some refuse. He then proceeded to walk to the Mule and Pickle inn to get himself a room, pulling out 6 silver pieces from his purse. “3 nights please” he said.

The owner hawks a spit in a nearby can. .. well. .. near the can. "Food too? And do you want tickets to the nightly show?"

“Uhhhh...sure, food. that too. Let's make a deal, I'll pay double for food that hasn't been...violated…” Gamble tells the man.

"Twelve silver. Tickets to the mule show are 5." the owner told him.

Gamble rooted around in his coin purse. “I see, can I purchase at the time of the show?”

"We tend to sell out" the owners said bruskly.

“Fine, here's 15 silver, this thing probably has to be experienced more than once.” Gamble said, handing his 15 silver coins.

"you shorted me two silver - twelve for the room, five more for the show"

“No I meant 15 silver just for the show, 5 per show, I am staying 3 nights.” Gamble said, pointing at the coins. “Right? and then 2 silver for the room, 3 nights is 6 silver pieces, and then twice the amount for food per night, so 6sp times 3 for 18 silver. 3 gold, 9 silver.” Gamble points at the small pile of coins in the owner’s hand and on the counter.

Quickly counting, he nods and tears off three tickets and hands Gamble a room key. “Careful. It's kinda rusted.”

“Very well.” Gamble says, heading off to his room, finding it simple and surprisingly clean.

A’postrofae stood outside of Hanks for what seemed to her like hours, trying to decide if she wants to go in. Walking about, Bismark spotted the shop first, and then A’postrofae and approched. "A'postrofae? What are you doing?"

“Waiting for the gods to notice me. And you?”

Bismark paused a second. "I was ... just going to go look around the store. you going in?"

“Yes, I am going in. I am trying to decide if I want to buy fighting clothes like the rest of you.” She told him.

"What kind are you looking for?" Bismark inquired

“I don’t know really. I guess I need to see what I can get..” A’postrofae looked at Bismark. “It’s really fucking hard to buy fighting clothes in this town.”

Bismark looks at her, confused. "Have you gone in here already? They sell some here, i think." and he opened the door for her.

“There’s nobody in there” She tells him.

More confusion spreads across Bismark’s face. "huh?" he says, looks in, and then walks into the store.