RC: Tue/Sun No. America - The Road to Ascore

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"The moon gate shines of silver." Pimm recites woodenly to the voice behind the door.

Peering sideways back across the alley surveying the darkness around him, he looks back to the door, and eagerly awaits a response.

 

The door in front of Pimm opens revealing a small room beyond and a halfling, standing guard holding a crossbow. "Straight through and down the stairs." he says to Pimm. "Enjoy."

Nevrin glances at Pheldas. "Well if you're interested in a tale of local happenings, then go over to that table and listen to the very tall fellow." Nevrin points across the room. "That's Ruldorn 'The Storm Ranger' just in from the mountains. He always knows what is going on. As for drink, If you want something that won't knock your socks off, I suggest the cider. Tis in season, and this years crop was very tasty."

[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 09, 2001).]

 

"Of course, thank you sire," says Pimm as he steps inside the door casually surveying the lilliputian guard at the door.

It had not previously dawned on Albrechto that the entire establishment could be run by halflings. To him, that was a very good sign, halflings always seemed to be such good natured people, or at least, he thought, (perhaps naively) that they'd be less likely to stab you in the back for no good reason. Then again, he had heard stories about halflings wielding great illusionary magics, and perhaps illusions and gambling weren't the best combination for a solitary gambler...

"Well," thought Pimm, "I'll have to keep an eye open for that sort of thing I suppose..." then raising an eyebrow to his own faulty logic, "how, Albrechto does one look for an illusion?"

Ignoring his own thoughts of caution, Pimm, transgressed the small room, and thirstily descended the stairs to the den beneathe.

 

"Cider? Of course, cider be a fine drink. Pour me some."
Sipping cider, Pheldas settled at a free table and looked around the tavern. a fine drink, he thought. The wyvern skull on the wall popped up a mental image of wyvern skeleton charging at him. Uh, maybe not that good of a drink!, the mage laughed at the twisted image in his mind. The undead were nowhere to be seen since the haunted house in Quaevarr, but... Blasted zombie made a meal of my crossbow. - even the recalling of this was humiliating for Pheldas, and he, quickly finishing his drink, asked the little barkeeper:
"Sire, I am sure you would know of a good place for me to purchase a fine weapon..."
He then put a gold coin on the counter, in hope the halfling will not dismiss him as a fool, who wishes to buy arms at night. No, dealers who sell good gear are open to business whenever needed, especially in a city as big as this one.

[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 09, 2001).]

 

Nevrin finished serving another patron, and looked over at Pheldas. "Sir, One can buy anything at the Bell Market, and unless you wish to buy a bow, that is where I would recomend you go. If you want a bow, then I would go to 'The Bent Bow', It is located on the edge of the Bell Market."

The Stairs led downward and opened up to a smokefilled room. There were several tables located around the room each with a different game occuring at it. Two Dice tables, four games of cards, a roulette wheel, and darts. Standing just inside the room, next to the entrance there was a very large half-orc. From his looks he must be the bouncer. The dice game was being run by a half-elf, the roulette wheel, by a human, The card games were run by either an elf or a halfling, two of each. The bar was located in the far corner, tended by a rather gruff looking dwarf. "Pardon *hic* me, sir" a drunk-looking halfling bumped into Pimm, and then staggered up the staris and out the door.

 

Thoughts of his 'friend' Phineus come to Pimm's half foggy mind and he quickly checks to see if his personal belongings are still intact.

Morning Star, yes, still intact, then again why would a thief go after a filthy adventurers side arm? A sigh of relief... his purse is still there, though the contents therein are questionable.

Cards weren't Pimm's game, too many rules, too many cards to count, too many people to keep track of, no fun at all. He wasn't a big fan of darts either, just didn't have the throwing ability.

Thr roulette wheel, now that's what he was after. Provided it wasn't fixed, which he'd have to look out for, the wheel was his idea of fun, no training, no rules, just put your money down and see if you get lucky. Pimm heads straight for the roulette table and addresses the operator.

"Hello friend, what's the minimum wager? Is there a maximum?" he asks with a grin.

(Ooc: Baldak, I'm assuming that if I was pickpocketed by the halfling it would have been in the post... if I am incorrect [heh] let me know and I'll alter the post.)

 

Pheldas left the inn and headed towards the Bell Market, updating his directions with bypassers. He has finally found the place called 'The Bent Bow', and reaziled that the store was closed... "Durned halfling, couldn't tell..." he cursed and turned back, thinking of attempting a tour around the place.

OoC Durned Halfling!



[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 10, 2001).]

 

OoC: Skedaddle, when you arived in Everlund it was evening, and Art hasn't finished carousing for the night, so the Bent Bow will not be opened until the following morning. Art, upon checking your purse, you discover that the coin is all there, but a note has been added.

Garnor, glanced over at Pimm, "If you want to play, the minimum is 1 gp. You can, however, use silver and play it in 10 different locations. Any bet over 500 gp must be approved by Mr. Apelton." Garnor speaks to the patrons at the table, "Place your bets, the wheel will run again in just a minute so be quick."

[This message has been edited by Baldak Oakfist (edited September 10, 2001).]

 

"'Any bet over 500...,'" Pimm thinks to himself, "I should have brought more gold, hmm, well 25 should be enough to start me off."

Pimm removes his gauntlet for the purpose of counting his money, and carelessly plunges his hand into his purse, coming up with a fistfull of coins and a small piece of parchment, that, to his knowledge, hadn't been there before.

"Oh...." is all he manages to utter. He reluctantly drops his coins back into his purse. "Perhaps I'll get the next round sire," he says to the table operator.

Pimm moves to the far corner of the room, and situates himself at the bar. "Excuse me your dwarvishness," he says to the bartender, "might I have an ale?" Looking back at the size of the note, and back to the bartender, "sorry sire, better make that a shot instead."

With that, Pimm straightens out the parchment and reads...

 

the note reads: 'You and your friends are being followed. If you would like to know more, come to the Bell Market just outside the Bent Bow. Look for the halfling wearing blue boots and a red hat.' it is signed a Friend. The bottom has a symbol stamped on. It looks like a crescent moon with a Harp incribed.

 

Pimm, looks up from the note. The jolly mood he was in, completely shattered. The alcoholic daze he was in is suddenly replaced by an adrenaline induced daze.

Slowly he scanns the room, taking in each human and humanoid at work and at leisure. He glances back at the barkeep, and wordlessly places a few silvers next to the untouched shot of whiskey he had ordered.

Still searching the room for enemies, he slowly makes his way to the stairs with his hand close to his morning star.

Trying to maintain his calm he slowly climbs the short stairway. Pimm nods to the halfling guard at the door, and opens the door letting himself out.

Looking into the dark of the alley, he curses at himself for putting himself in the situation. Sanctuary should last him long enough to get to the town square at least, and from there it should be a relatively safe walk - he hoped.

Completing his prayer, he equips his cudgel, and walks out of the alley, making left turns until he comes to the center of town. Once he hits the main road he calms, comforted by the presence of more pedestrians littering the street, and as opposed to his initial jaunt out, he focuses straight ahead and makes his way directly back to the Battered Hat.

As he gets to the steps he can't restrain himself and runs up the few steps remaining between the street and the safety of the Inn.

 

The market sightseeing tour of Pheldas' turned bad with no light and no stores of interest open to sneak in, so the mage cursed himself for even getting away from the inn. He then slowly headed back towards it, thinking if it is worth to invoke some magical light or not...

 

Nevrin, seeing Pimm and Pheldas return to the Inn, welcomes the two back. "How was the excursion, to the Bell Market and yours to the Downriver Gate? The Bar is still open if you're interested."

 

Though it had only been a few hours, Calin was more or less rested. Gazing about, he realized that a couple of the late-nighters were missing. Frowning slightly, Calin made his way to the bar. Sitting on a stool, Calin spoke to the bartender, "Could you tell me where my erstwhile companions are?" To make it worth the barkeep's while, Calin ordered an expensive Elven wine, waiting his answer.

OoC: I too, wish for a bow, and another Short Sword. (I am deciding to properly harness that +4 dex mod. weapon finesse: short sword, dual wielding those small blades will give me a nice bonus.)

 

From the shadows alongside the inn, Elviendra watched her new companions returning from their carousing. Thinking that Pimm looked a bit unnerved as he bolted up the few steps to the door, she sighed and decided to return inside. Since she had decided to throw her lot in with theirs, it was perhaps best to find out what his trouble might be. Putting away wistful thoughts of quiet solitude, she returned to the bustle of the aromatic in with a grimace of distaste. With any luck, they would leave this place soon. The forest would be much more pleasant at this time of night.

Pausing just inside the door, Elviendra looked around until she spotted Calin seated at the bar. Well, perhaps now would be a good time to get better aquainted with some of my new friends. With that thought, she pulled her cloak close to avoid soiling it against the other customers and strode quickly across the room.

With a quick glance and a teasing smile, she spoke quietly to the gold elf. "‘Quel undome, mellonamin. Cormamin lindua ele lle. Amin naa lle nai."

Before he could respond, she switched back to common and nodded in the direction of Pimm and Pheldas. "Perhaps we could begin by discovering what troubles your friends?"

 

Xalen had rested most of the night undisturbed by the fire, but now his sleep was obviously plauged. Tossing and turning, he grimaced as visions corrupted his slumber. Suddenly, he awoke with a start, his eyes darting about the room. Slowly, he calmed down and groggily rubbed his eyes and matted his hair down, realizing that there were still patrons in the bar. He straightens himself in the chair and puts his still opened book away for later. Stretching, he rises, muttering somthing intangable but seemingly having something to do with his choice of lodgings for the evenings. Shaking aways his slumber, he realizes that his new companions are still in the bar. Late bunch he thinks to himself. After checking his belongings, he walks over to the bar and motions for the bartender.

"Sir, might you have some water? My throat is horridly dry from sleeping by the fire." The bartender, obviously displeased at handing out water, scoops some out of a bucket and hands Xalen a small glass. He quickly downs it, unsavory flavor aside, and thanks the barkeep with a slight grimace. Looking down the bar, he sees the two elves, cohorting about Helm knows what. Back at the door, he sees Pimm, obviously shaken, and that new mage fellow, obviously disgruntled. Thinking twould be better conversation with those two, he heads over to Pimm and slaps him on the back. About to start a conversation, he thinks otherwise after smelling the strong stench of alcohol on him. He backs up a few steps and begins again. "What seems to be bothering you two gentlemen this evening...err morning...umm, exatly what time is it?"

 

A wave of relief washes over Pimm as he enters the inn. To make matters even less comlicated it seems that his colleagues are already up and about, in fact a quick survey of the room shows that yes... each and all are present.

And they are all staring at Pimm.

He realizes slowly that a running half drunk priest in a cold sweat certainly is an interesting sight, and he laughs, again, relieved.

Looking over at Xalen, grinning, "I have no idea what time it is, but it does appear that we can not seem to stay out of trouble, no matter where we go..."

Glancing over at the bar at his elven companions jabbering in some elvish tongue, "Xalen, Pheldas, we should join our sylvan friends over at the bar for a moment, before I get some sleep. And no I don't expect you to drink with me..."

Pimm seats himself near Calin and Elviendra. "Well Nevrin, my little journey was quite eventful, but I didn't get much gambling done unfortunately. Thank you for the tip, by the way, I think it was fortuitous for me in a way quite different than I had indended. Oh, may I have a shot of the strongest liquor you have? I'll be needing some rest this evening..."

With that Pimm relates his brief sojourn to the Dreaming Dragon, the 'drunk' halfling and the note in his purse. Punctuating his story - growing blurrier by the moment Albrechto guns his shot down, and slaps a gold coin on the counter. "Thank you sire," He says to the bartender, "and gentlemen... and lady, wake me in the morning, I'm in need of sleep - and prayer, good night."

Then Pimm trundles off to his room.

 

"So it seems Harpers have interest in your task. Would it not be wise to go and meet that friend the note speaks of? It might be a trap, might be not, but it is worth checking. Petty ruffians are unlikely to impersonate Harpers, and Harpers work in mysterious ways. I cannot tell if the insignia is forged. Harpers... If so, it would seem, you've crossed powerful people on your way... So it would seem..." Pheldas finished calmly, waiting if his companions have something to say.

 

Xalen quietly walks to the bar and places his palms flat against it as he stares towards the end, not at anything in particular it seems. He just stares for a minute, cold, and long. To some perhaps he just looks again dispondant, but for a change fear is flowing over him, sending chills across his flesh. Pimm in his state perhaps didn't think about what exactly that note could mean, but deep down, the note brings back memories of past troubles and those memories grip Xalen tightly, almost suffocating him. After a moment, he turns facing his new traveling group, staring for a brief moment at each one of them before speaking...

"I don't presume to know any of you. I won't pretend I know you, or even like you. But right now I fear for all of our safety. I know we only just met a couple of days ago, and I had hoped perhaps to have a fresh start with you all. But seems haunting memories from the past are more than just memories. Perhaps myself and Pimm haven't been forthcoming about certain things with you all; perhaps you might even want to say we have not been quite honest, and that might be fair. Yes, we...at least I have had run-ins with the Harpers before. And quite honestly I had hoped not to see them again for sometime unless they came bearing good news...obviously not the case here. I fear that whoever may be following us is the reason we wanted as far away from Silverymoon yesterday as we could get. Please, I know you don't owe me this, but sit, allow me to try, best as I might, to relay both mine and Pimm's past from Silverymoon...I think now, perhaps, you all need to know..."

Xalen motions for the party to sit as he tries as best he can to run down the events that led to himself and Pimm meeting the rest of the group. From the simple murder investigation to their runin with the powerful drow Er Cam to his eventual meeting with the Harper before they left the city, Xalen explains their past as best he can and what now, it seem at least, could be their future..."And so my friends, if it *is* what I fear, then we might have drawn more attention during our pass near Silverymoon than I had hoped. If this Harper does mean to tell us of the Drow being near, I think we need to make haste in finding him so we can prepare. I for one do *not* want this Drow getting the jump on me again. What do you say?"

 

What has started as an interesting story has suddenly turned dangerous and gained a hint of hopelessness as Xalen progressed his tale. Pheldas sat at his stool, staring in one point. That is just great! Drow! What in the nine hells has a dark elf to do with those? By the Purple Wyrm, they are heading in the most dangerous direction! And... I am following. And what am I to do? They are still alive, and, seems so, have seen a lot of battle. Run to safe? Never did, never will. So, to go on is the way. Pheldas took a minute to clear his thoughs and shake off that sudden shock. He decided not to take more drinks, to keep his head clear for the time ahead. Slowly, he started evaluating the good point of travelling with the group. "I must get to know them better, if we are to work together... And Harpers, we'll see about them soon."
With this though, Pheldas has established his mood for the upcoming day.

[This message has been edited by Skedaddle (edited September 11, 2001).]