[TheLongRoad] The Road to Thustrata

[foproy]

Sainrith
“I am from a hunting people and have skills you need but I assure you that this House of Morn is not a tale known among my people. Should I complete the task of ridding the temple of all unnatural terrors then I ask no silver only that you sing your praise of me in the market place. Swear before your gods and these witnesses that you will sing that song if I achive my goal and my service in this one matter is yours.
As for the riders, if you swear before your gods and these witnesses they will not be imprisoned, maimed, or killed and that they will face trial precided by an impartial priest then I will bring them to you in exchange for an a slice of beef, one slice per rider brought to me at the table of your home.
As for my recent allies here they can make their own bargains.
Do you agree to a Faerie’s terms? Do you agree knowing that to cross my kind has…consequences. This last you know well, you mortals do have your faerie tales.”

upon hearing the last bit and realizing what is coming next the druids arm shoots covering the small faes mouth and shushes the small one to silence.

please forgive my friend here, there culture is cloistered to say the least. and they do not understand many human dealings. most humans that live near them tend to tollerate them for fur trade. they are harmless just run their mouths.

[LordKruelos]

The Sheriff's attempt to be polite from the beginning has been an obvious strain.  
Jax is not amused by the tiny fey man
But a man does not become a military governor installed as the military figurehead of a plutocracy by being being too quick to anger or too hasty to agree to terms that are unclear.

Sheriff Jax

Staring a hole into the small Fey I could have you put in the stocks, you know. We haven't had a public whipping for days. Might be good for law and order. In any case, the offer stands at the offered price. Take it or leave it.

[Fiendbasher]

As Sainrith blows any chance of the group garnering additional information out of the Sheriff, Vár frowns at the back of the small fey's head, the bridge of his nose crinkling and pulling his upper lip up just enough to reveal a glimpse of some unnervingly pointed canines. He silently regrets not having had proper time to explain the situation and considers that the creature might end up to be far more trouble than his worth. After the Sheriff speaks again, the feral man relaxes his expression and returns a nod.

"Good enough for me."

He then drops to one knee and lowers his voice so that, presumably, only Sarinith should hear him, and speaks to him directly.

(click to show/hide)

I don't know what sort of noble you are where you come from... but right now you are on another lord's land. Just as you'd expect him to behave by your laws and customs were he in your home, if you're wise, you'd respect his customs and laws while in his. Otherwise you're going to end up in as much trouble as he would if he were lost in your land, eh? We'll talk more once we're out of here. 'Til then hold your tongue and don't pretend you're guileless.

[Catodon]

Sainrith mutter behind the druid's hand "mmrrmh mmmhr hmmm mrrmr"

[foproy]

i assure you he just agreed.

[Jigger]

"Silver always did make the best allegiances. I'm sure Marrakt can find some one to direct us to the quarter master for resupply, and a someone who can give us details about the site before we leave.", Wallace says.

[LordKruelos]

The conference with the Sheriff comes to an uncomfortable close as he waved you out the door, escorted by Marrakt, a strange, scrawny lackey in black. While by some measures a horrid little man, Marrakt turns out to be a surprisingly useful source of information, answering some of the questions that got derailed by Sainrith nearly getting thrown in irons.

Marrakt

"It's nigh on 30 years since the Free Merchants Alliance ousted the House of Morn -- from this very castle in fact. Some of the more hidebound locals still wait for the return, but most have moved on -- it's better for business this way. The so-called Freedom Riders are the dregs of the loyalists -- the scum that still plague the rightful Sheriff and disrupt unwary caravans."

[foproy]

at the end of the story shadefire turns to the servant and says

"why the falling out?

[Catodon]

Sainrith looks pointedly at Var  "The mortals here most probably threw off thoughtless servitude to nobles, as my people have done. Is that the crux of it?"

[LordKruelos]

Marrakt

"The old house had certain old-fashioned ideas about commerce, so the Free Merchants led a revolution. Some people are just very sore losers."

(click to show/hide)

Wallace, Shadefire, and Vár all pass their Sense Motive checks. The lackey isn't even trying to be subtle.  Powerful merchants tired of the old rulers interfering, so they raised an army and took the land for themselves.

[Jigger]

"Thirty years, that's a lifetime ago. Any loyalists still holding on can only be doing so because of the loss of personal power. Tell us more about these nobles. Who were they? Who were their allies? Their enemies? Who suffered the most from their loss, and why is the Temple of Morning so important to any of them?", Wallace quizes.

[Fiendbasher]

Sainrith looks pointedly at Var  "The mortals here most probably threw off thoughtless servitude to nobles, as my people have done. Is that the crux of it?"

Vár replies quietly to Sainrith, "Likely... though people thirst for freedom, they often don't know what to do with it once they have it. They frequently shrug the yoke of one leader they perceive to be bad only to place themselves under another that is as bad again, if not worse." his lip twitches slightly. "We'll speak more once we're on the hunt."

[Jigger]

Wallace mutters a word, and makes several careful hand gestures beneath his cloak.

(click to show/hide)

Prestidigitation to hide his casting.
1d20+8 [19-20] DC Marrakt's Notice
1d20+8=11

<Maybe, but probably not>

Spell Casting
1d20+8 [20] DC 13. (Not using spell pouch, untrained check) Error [1-3]
1d20+8=20

<Capped at 15>

Whispers
MP: 0 Casting: Free Duration: 1min Range: Close
Effect: Can communicate to each other by Whispering. Included: Var, Sainrith, Shadefire
Spell Casting 1d20+8 DC:13

With the final slip of a obvious magical hand gesture, Wallace continues to mutter under his breath. (click to show/hide) "This Whisper will last for sixty heart beats, no one else can hear This Whisper. Try to keep the political commentary within This Whisper, as we don't need any additional scrutiny, until we know more about whats going on. You now have thirty heartbeats remaining to comment."

[foproy]

"a lifetime for some, shadefire says diverting his eyes from the servant for a second, "but still you are not telling us everything." looking back at him now.

[LordKruelos]

Marrakt

"The Temple of Morning was once the largest temple of the city, it burned in a fire some years ago. The temple was a great calming influence on the small folk, and indeed to us all, as all 10 of the brothers were well-loved. The hierarchy has spoken of plans to rebuild the temple and guard it with experienced warriors, but these plans have been delayed several times -- accidents, fires, and, at least they say, hauntings. Most of the small folk simply continue on in their lives. It's rather distant, so the fire of zealots only burns hot in places, like coals in a pit of ash." Recently, the constable had the celler of the old temple excavated, on reports of those strange night-creatures was seen disappearing into the ruins. Below the old temple is a honeycomb of cellars and crypts of the brothers for only they knew how long.

Marrakt leads the PCs through the castle, down a set of stairs, through a door in a wall and then out into the streets.

The Ruins of the Temple of Morning
Outside the Temple Wall

The seasons have washed away the worst of the soot and ashes, but the temple is only a shell of what it once was. Half a dozen guardsmen are watching you from a distance, smoking pipes, playing cards, and only half alert.

Guard Chorus

"Hah! Is that what they call reinforcements?  Good luck, might as well slit your throats out here and spare yourselves the trouble of the walk for all the good you'll do. Aces! *Grumbles of anger from the losers* Say, anybody bets which one of them will be the first to die?

Marrakt turns to you with his disturbing half-smile.

Marrakt

"I suppose you might like to know that the Sheriff lost the two squads of soldiers he sent into the cellars after the first two men he sent in.