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Post by Story Teller: Lynn on May 1, 2023 11:06:08 GMT -5
The city of Darkveil is a rather young city, having only been built in the last few decades by smaller factions of clans and families keen to separate themselves from the mainstream society. The looming mountains and thick plumes of smoke streaming from Mount Drakolt create a harsh and isolated environment. Still, life finds a way. As the city has been left to its own devices, a thriving and prosperous community has formed, best known for their partying, glass blowing, and criminal underbelly. Though not all is right in this land of ash and soot. Recent earthquakes have rocked the city as well as the rest of Charon, and the damage is extensive. Many of the buildings show cracks and pieces of debris are scattered across the streets, blanketed by the increasing amount of ashfall that is being expelled by Mount Drakolt at an abnormal rate. Many people have started to lose their nerve, fearing that something catastrophic is on the horizon. As such, businesses have been closing and homes have been slowly abandoned in the past few weeks…at least, that’s what some believe. This is what has drawn you here. Brought together by a mysterious request in the form of a cryptic letter suggesting that something more sinister is afoot, you and your fellow adventurers have been summoned to the city of sin to investigate the recent and sudden disappearances of several denizens of Darkveil City. You have been asked to keep your investigation discreet as to not panic the locals or tip off whoever may be involved in whatever is going on. While the identity of who sent you this request is unknown, the promise of a generous reward and the chance to do some good in the corrupted city is hard to pass up. Near the Market District, a large five story black building juts up into the darkened sky. The Dancer's Den is the most popular tavern and inn found within Darkveil City. It is known for the near constant partying that happens within its walls. Music flits through the air and the aroma of delicious goods wafts through the front doors. It is a prime spot for anyone looking to enjoy the night with good drinks and company. It is also a prime spot to gather information. For those of you who know this establishment well, there is an unusual tension in the air that is uncharacteristic of the social den as your group crosses the threshold of the front door. Groups of cloaked individuals huddle in the shadowed corners of the tavern, speaking in hushed tones while glancing about the room nervously. The bards playing on the stage seem off tonight, the sounds from their instruments ring out slightly off tune and strained rather than light and joyous. The owner of the Dancer’s Den, Layla, stands next to the staircase which leads to the second story, surveying the room with a tense expression on her face while a burly human man behind the bar wipes down the counter's surface.
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Post by Gwendolyn on May 1, 2023 15:58:53 GMT -5
Gwendolyn Mystwud stares up at the roof of the dancers den. Her eyes squint behind a pair of innocuous glasses. Against the heavy ash fall that flows down from the sky in a black snowfall, specks of ash catching on glass like twisted snowflakes. The pale grey cloak she wore only showed the bulky outline of a heavily armoured individual. Pulling the hood down only allowed the soot to muddy her silvery hair, and bits to catch on the outside of her perfumed veil. A tap on her shoulder brought her back to reality. Whatever fleeting memory that she watched dance across the rooftop disappearing into the fog of the present. (1) Mori stood nearby, an absent smile across her face and her tail lazily bobbing too and fro. The Felynkin held an embroidered parasol out and open, protecting all underneath it from the horrors of ambient ashes. Unfortunately for Gwen, it was never quite in the right position to actually keep anything off of her. She bites her cheek. Something feels off. Like disaster looming over the horizon, an ominous sense of dread. Gwen had just been here with Kamille, but that was a far more pleasure than business, and the mood hadn’t been this tense. The group entered as Renee held the door open, pulling any remaining hoods down and scouting the room. Yep, the pervasive sour feeling even throughout the patrons enjoying drinks and slowly dancing to downbeat tunes. Advancing to the bar, Gwen placed two solars on the counter, and indicated for two shots of liquor. One for her, another for Mori Just enough to knock off the edge. Maybe whoever had invited them here for make themselves apparent before they even needed to do anything. Passive Effects: Filter Veil - Airborne poison immunity Secret Identity - Ashlands: Lady Gwenevere Arcane Glasses - Magic detection and Identification In Plain Sight - Lie detection immunity, Secret Identity protection. Infinite Soul - Age immunity SP: Light Fae Alvina - Cat on Shoulders NPCs: Earth Domain Apprentice: Mori Tsuji Spellcasting: (1) Gwendolyn's Summoning Pact: Light Fae A summoning spell that draws light and binds it to the energy of a fae like being, allowing them to take a physical form of light and energy. This fae can take the form of a mundane creature, such as a cat, dog, bird, or something similar and will hang out with you for the rest of the topic's duration. This fey can not attack and avoids most combat, but is able to distort light around themselves, appearing to become invisible. The fey can speak and communicate with you, even able to mentally speak to you through your mind. Once per topic the fey can also distort the light around an area, creating a fog like effect that allows the caster to blend into their environment and become invisible. This fog effect will last for the next two post and will cover a 10 foot diameter area, and will allow any ally of the caster to also become invisible while moving through the fog. The Archfey Alvina in the form of an invisible cat now sits on the shoulders of Gwendolyn.
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Post by Javal Zarrias on May 1, 2023 22:33:15 GMT -5
Javal Zarrias had just entered the dark and dreary Darkveil City after a few days' journeys through the Zeinav Desert alongside his trusty retainer Nadia Sadrine. As he walked to the middle of the city he looked around observing the current state of affairs. The whole place was completely different from the last time he’d visited his maternal grandfather at his mansion. The entire city had been affected by the recent disturbances all across Charon; signs of destruction and ruin were all around the place. Javal had seen some of the damage that was happening during one of these events firsthand on his rescue mission with Lady Kamille and Lady Leni at Moonglade Village. He could only imagine how bad the actual earthquakes and other calamities could've been when they occurred. The thing that really tore Javal’s heart out from his chest was his favorite sandwich shop had been destroyed and boarded up this saddened him greatly.
“No, this can't be, it's not fair”, he yelled as he grabbed the door and his body slinked to the floor.
“My liege please calm down, I’m sure we can find another uh sandwich shop somewhere else”, Nadia says a bit confused
Javal got up still saddened alas, he shall no longer have the only sandwich shop that made his signature sand-filled sandwich anymore yet another casualty of the cataclysm that had been going on. Javal continued to observe the broken environment around him, a big change from its former glory as he and Nadia made their way to their destination.
Javal and Nadia then entered the Dancer’s Den with Javal very excited to mingle with the people of the establishment. Every time he’s been there it’s always been a great time with lots of fun and exciting people to meet. As he entered excitedly almost running to the middle of the first floor and didn't notice that no one seemed in a cheery fun mood. He starts dancing his heart out by himself to the music in his own heart
His retainer quickly comes walking behind him tapping him on the shoulder and whispering, “My liege I suggest you stop what your doing at once. You're bringing way too much attention to us, this is supposed to be a discreet mission”.
Javal quickly looked around, seeing most of the people staring at him, “Oh yeah you’re right Nadia, let’s try to be low-key starting now”.
Nadia mumbles under her breath, “I think it's already too late”.
Nadia and Javal then walk over to the bar and sit down, Javal then waves the barkeep over who comes to take his order.
“May I have one of your finest root beer and a regular beer”, Javal asks
The barkeep then hands slides their drinks over and Javal gives him 10 solars in return. Javal starts drinking his root beer happily while Nadia chugs down her beer very quickly not phased by it at all. The two then start looking around the room for anything that could help them start their investigation into what's going on.
NPCS: Nadia Sadrine (Warlord Minion)
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Post by Vail on May 2, 2023 21:19:31 GMT -5
Vail stood frozen outside of a door he'd so easily passed through countless times before. Some bastard had sent him a letter, summoning him to a place he'd long since avoided. The promise of a reward meant little to him, he was only concerned with who the sender was. He looks over his shoulder to The Rookery across the town square, wondering if his decision to pay the fellblood a visit was witnessed by some manner of info broker. It hardly mattered now; he was done with regrets.
With a deep breath, he places his hand on the doorknob and twists, setting foot once more into his childhood home.
The Dancer’s Den was remarkably untouched, aside from a new bar mirror containing the establishment’s emblem; truly a miracle considering the tremors that recently struck the city. No doubt Zarius was seething over his competition’s good fortune. On the other hand, the mood inside the tavern was entirely different than he had remembered. Everyone in the establishment seemed nervous, aside from some foreigners who stuck out like a sore thumb. His eyes scan the room, taking note of the new bartender, as well as the shadowy cloaked figures hiding in corners, before they spot a familiar face standing beside the staircase. After all these years, Layla hadn't changed in the slightest. The woman was the closest thing he’d ever had to a parent and probably the only adult to ever treat him like a normal child, regardless of his father status. Every day, whether he came home smiling ear to ear from a day of mischief, or bloodied and bruised from a job gone south, she would greet him with the same kindness. It was a small taste of normalcy in a city that offered him so little.
They lock eyes for a moment, just long enough for the woman to take notice and begin walking towards him.
He keeps his head low as she approaches, wondering if she even recognized him in the slightest. If he had to guess, she didn't see an ounce of the bright-eyed child she'd once known. Hell, how could she? His eyes aren't even the color she would remember.
She speaks softly as she looks upon his scarred face, unafraid of whatever threat he might pose.
"Welcome to the Dancer's Den. Follow me please."
The woman signals the bartender to swap places with her as she leads Vail to the bar counter, placing him a couple seats down from the strange foreigners.
"What will it be?" The woman quietly asks as she grabs a glass from behind the bar.
"Ginger ale." he replies as he takes his seat, his head still held low.
It was his favorite drink as a child; a way for him to affirm any suspicions she might have without a great exchange of words.
He lifts his head as she begins to pour his drink, allowing their eyes to meet once more through the bar mirror's reflection. Her stare says more to him than any words could. A slurry of emotion no doubt mixed within her mind, but a look of concern was more palpable than any other. There are so many things he wishes he could tell her, although she likely couldn't begin to comprehend all that had happened to him since that fateful day eight long years ago. He darts his eyes away after a few seconds; any longer and he would have lost his composure.
As she places his drink down in front of him, her face contorts in an exaggerated expression of annoyance as she looks to his side. Reaching below the counter, the exasperated woman retrieves a fresh bar mop. "That slacker, I ought to dock his pay."
His eyes look to countertop beside him, spotting no mess as the woman leans in next to him to wipe it down. He lowers his head once again as she holds beside him for a brief moment.
"Welcome home." She softly whispers, in the same motherly tone she'd always used.
"Thank you." He whispers back, as a single tear runs down his cheek.
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Post by Story Teller: Lynn on May 4, 2023 14:21:49 GMT -5
The three adventurer’s entrances did not go unnoticed by the patrons of the Dancer’s Den. Several hooded figures glance over at them, quickly discerning if these new visitors were going to start any trouble or not. Despite the tense atmosphere in the room, no one makes any sudden moves to either greet or intercept the adventurers. Well, none except for the establishment’s owner who first approaches the one she recognizes and exchanges some quiet words.
Javal’s entrance garners quite a bit of attention given his failure to read the mood. Then again, there were some who reacted more positively. The bards, seeing someone dance so blissfully, helped bring some much needed energy to their performance. This had an almost infectious effect as some of the dour faces couldn’t help but smile at the spontaneous celebration. It was almost like their worries had been washed away. Almost.
Meanwhile, the gruff looking bartender looks down at the coin Gwen slapped on the counter, then back at her. He gives a nod and pulls an amber colored bottle from the back shelf and pours two shots into a pair of short glasses. He slides them across the bar to her when another adventurer waves him over.
Glancing about the room through her Arcane Glasses, Gwen would note that a few of the shady individuals here did have some minor magical items, mostly to either alter their appearance or possibly guard their intents from being discerned. This wasn’t necessarily uncommon for a place like Darkveil with its large criminal underbelly, but it is something to be cautious of.
Approaching Javal, the bartender does not speak a word to Javal, but offers a curt nod and an affirmative grunt in response to the fellblood’s request. He steps over to one of the large round wooden kegs stacked on its side against the back wall of the bar and fills one wooden flagon before filling another one from a different barrel. He then returns and places the two drinks before the man.
Looking out across the room, Javal would notice the improved mood and that some of those speaking in hushed voices over their drinks are now a bit more relaxed and chatting more openly. Though some still keep a wary eye on those who have taken to sitting at the bar. Javal, of course, would also notice the armored woman sitting to his side with a feline-like maid at her side and the odd pale man on the opposite side to him.
As Layla finishes wiping down the countertop, giving Vail just the subtlest of smiles before she glances to the side at Javal and Gwen.
“What brings you folks to town?" She pauses to eye them up and down, taking note of their equipment and their companions. "Judging by your armor and weapons, it can’t be just to take in the scenery. I certainly hope you're not going to start any trouble. We've had enough of that lately as it is.” She mutters the last part under her breath.
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Post by Gwendolyn on May 5, 2023 22:30:10 GMT -5
Downing the first drink, she grimaced. Certainly lower shelf than she had hoped, but it would do poorly for her reputation to complain. Instead she slid the second shot to Mori, who grabbed it with her large paws and simply held it with a smile on her face. Gwendolyn shook her head, the inner machinations of that womans mind an enigma. Turning towards the entrance, she rolled her eyes as a familiar mercenary entered and began to dance out of tune with the music. The sheer amount of spontaneous energy present was inconceivable to her, even the bards picked pace to start to match him. It seems like his own retainer has some common sense at least. “ Javal” She says as he takes a seat at the bar and orders for himself. “Been a while, here about the kidnappings too?” The bartender switches out with out with the owner behind the counter, the latter of which takes no time to make one of the patrons cry after whispering to him. And then follows it up with a smile? Mixed signals, she felt for the guy. Rejection was a bitch, She would know. Wolfe and herself were on a break after a quite rude interaction in the desert. No matter. “No, were here to end trouble.” Gwen says with a serious intonation. Sliding the letter received across to the owner, she continues “It seems several people have gone missing around here lately. If you had any information, or recognized the writing on this missive, it would go a long way in helping us out. My name is Lady Gwenevere, a pleasure to be at your cities service.” Alvina leapt from her shoulders, silently, and began to creep up the stairs, intent to discover any suspicious individuals. Well…. More suspicious than the patrons who already dwelled within the den itself. Passive Effects: Filter Veil - Airborne poison immunity Secret Identity - Ashlands: Lady Gwenevere Arcane Glasses - Magic detection and Identification In Plain Sight - Lie detection immunity, Secret Identity protection. Infinite Soul - Age immunity SP: Light Fae Alvina - Cat up stairs Mori - Holding Liquor
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Post by Javal Zarrias on May 8, 2023 2:48:21 GMT -5
As Javal sat down enjoying his root beer delightfully the bartender gave him a bit of a dirty look but that didn’t bother Javal. He never really got the appeal of alcohol anyways besides maybe the occasional cup of sake he’d much prefer his dear old root beer. Nadia quietly chugged her beer down quickly not even feeling a thing from it she then looked around to scan the room. Although her liege’s entrance caused a worrying amount of attention on the two at least it made the environment less tense when they entered the Dancer’s Den the tension in the room felt like it could be cut with a knife. Javal was too busy enjoying his root beer to notice anyone around him as he finished he was surprised to hear Lady Gwen’s familiar voice next to him. He was surprised to see his fellow adventurer here alongside an unfamiliar feline cat maid.
Javal turns to face her, “Hello there Lady Gwen it's been a while indeed how’re you doing? As for the recent string of kidnappings, I am here to put a stop to them. I shall bring whoever is stealing these people from their normal lives to justice. Especially with the recent string of disasters going on in Charon, the people have enough to worry about besides getting kidnapped”.
Javal then turns his head to shift his focus to what he guessed was the owner of the fine establishment who came to talk to them, “Me and my retainer here came to discover what is going on with the kidnappings across Darkveil. Do you know anything about the disappearances or do you know anything about this letter here? I hate to see people disappear randomly. I'd do anything to save them even if it meant fighting against literal calamity”.
He then shakes his head at the owner’s suggestion of trouble, “I would never bring any trouble to your fine establishment at least I promise to do my best not to”.
Javal then turns to talk to the pale man and asks, “Mr. Pale Man, Would you like to be my friend sir”?
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Post by Vail on May 8, 2023 20:50:36 GMT -5
Vail wipes his tears on his coat sleeve. As much as he wanted to discuss all manner of things with his former caretaker, he was here for a job, and judging by the attitudes of these foreigners, he wasn't alone. He casually sips his ginger ale as he listens in on their conversation. The veiled woman's question sparks some curiosity within him; Layla always was the person he turned to when he needed information outside of his gang or family informants. If anyone knew who had sent them this mysterious letter, it would be her. In all honesty, he was surprised how calm she had reacted upon recognizing him, after all, it’s not every day a supposed dead man walks through your door. Perhaps she knew he was coming after all? It was difficult to tell, she always was a rather stoic woman; a necessary trait when dealing with the dregs of Darkveil. His quiet pondering is soon brought to an end as the loud fellblood suddenly makes an unusual request.
Why is it that every time I enter a tavern these days some strange adventurer immediately wants to be my friend? I haven't even spoken a single word to him. This Javal fellow could give Cirice a run for her money when it comes to naive friendliness.
He looks down at his glass as he replies to the over eager man. "A word of advice mate, I don't think you should be making those kinds of requests so casually around here. A lot of folks are itching to exploit any naive soul who happens to wander into Darkveil." He wears a calm, measured expression as he turns to face Javal, his companion, and Lady Gwen's party. "In any case, it appears we are all here for the same reason. Very well, I accept your proposal, you may call me Ghost. I hope we can solve this kidnapping issue quickly, so that this establishment may return to its once lively atmosphere." Vail spots the slightest of smirks on Layla's face as she reacts to his alias. Yes, it was extremely on the nose, and yes, he couldn’t think of anything better considering he was put on the spot like this. He never was good with names.
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Post by Story Teller: Lynn on May 10, 2023 18:38:06 GMT -5
Layla stares at the group of adventurers a bit gobsmacked. She glances down at the letter Gwen slides across the table, but she does not make any moves to pick it up or read it.
A few heads turn their direction, having picked up on the juicy topic of discussion. Any chance of the adventuring party keeping the purpose of their presence here discreet was basically thrown at the window. If they wanted people’s attention, they sure did have it now.
The woman before them chuckles, but it's an awkward strained chuckle meant to try and break the tension casually. “Kidnappings?” She waves her hand dismissively. "People disappearing around Darkveil is hardly anything new. People go missing all the time. Sometimes deliberately." She glances at Vail. "Sometimes not."
Placing one finger on the letter, she slides it back over to Gwen with a forced smile. “Sorry, but I do not have anything to do with that kind of nasty business, nor do I want to get involved.”
The answer she gives seems to disinterest some of the curious patrons who go back to their own business for the most part, though those sitting at the tables pushed against the wall keep one eye on the conspicuous investigators at the bar. It’s hard to tell if their wary eyes mean anything, or if they are just waiting to pick up on more details from the public conversation themselves for one reason or another. Gossip and information is a hot commodity in a place like Darkveil after all.
As if intentionally trying to compete for the crowd's attention, the bards pick up the pace of their tune as they transition into a more lively jig.
Layla props her elbows on the bar top and leans over it towards the group, keeping her voice low to try and avoid any eavesdropping from the rest of the tavern's patrons.
"Look, all I can say is that there have been folk who have come in to stay the night but then are checked out before breakfast. Their room keys are all accounted for and none of my staff have reported anything suspicious with their rooms. I won't deny something feels up, but I can't risk becoming a target by asking too many questions. Anyone could be listening."
She leans back, her voice returning to a normal volume. "Things have been rough. Lots of folks lost their homes in the earthquakes and it's hard to get supplies for repairs. I wouldn't be surprised if people were just packing up and leaving on their own."
Meanwhile, Alvina creeps up the stairs and just as she crests the top step she catches sight of the edge of a cloak dipping behind a corner where the upstairs hall splits off. Someone was moving around up there, the sound of their boots scuffing against the floorboards moving away from the stairwell and down the hall at a fairly brisk pace. The familiar would have to follow after them to discern just if they were up to anything of note.
There is also another figure down the adjacent hall. A young half-elf woman who is carrying an armful of freshly washed linens. She approaches the landing at the top of the stairs before turning to go down the same hallway the cloak disappeared down. She hums along carefree to the tune played by the bards as she goes.
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Post by Gwendolyn on May 12, 2023 9:36:17 GMT -5
Alvina dashed forward, leaping up and landing with cat-like grace on the womans bundle of cloth. Invisible she may be, but unfortunately years of feeding on hopes and dreams had taken it’s toll on the fae-cats waistline. Hopefully the sudden weight would be ignored, and Alvina could coast into finding the cloaked figure whilst being carried in a throne of cotton and silk. She reached out to the womans mind, and upon finding an in began the tortuous process of manipulating mortals. “Follow the cloak” She whispered to the woman, taking pleasure in a long running past-time of pretending to be people intuition. Speaking of which, Gwendolyn was still downstairs shoving her foot in her mouth as always. Alvina reached out to her as well, with a simple “Upstairs”. Small nudges worked best on the Grey-haired woman, who disdained being told what to do, even by her own intuition somehow. The owner was hiding something. Cowardice in the face of adversity is an understood flaw of the lower classes, but the amount of fear she sensed was substantial. Gangs? No, the Den could handle gang threats. Ashen Fathers? Wasn’t Zarius involved with them somehow… She shook her head. “Layla…Right?” She asks, lowering her tone as to not be overheard by the denizens of the den. “I think something bigger is happening here. Do you know who the Ashen Father controlling the den is? Perhaps we could ask them if they know what is going on. We can offer you protection if you need it, I have maids who can get you out of the city”
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Post by Javal Zarrias on May 15, 2023 1:54:11 GMT -5
Nadia's facepalms, disappointed that they are a group, have been so obvious and drawn so much attention to what was supposed to be a discreet information-gathering event.
“That cannot be people should not get kidnapped at all. People going missing is a serious problem. We must find out what is napping these people and stop it from happening”, Javal exclaims.
He then responds to the letter being slid back, “But Lady Layla I'm sure from dealing with all of the underbelly of dark veil that you’d at least have some idea of where we could go to find our answers. I ask you ma’am please help us help und kidnap the people let us save them”.
Nadia then taps her boss on the shoulder and signaled for him to shut up, she was impressed at Layla’s ability to shut down the attention around them and calmed all the observing eyes on them. Javal struggled to remain focused as he felt the urge to go back on the floor and dance to the bard’s lovely tune. The song was so infectious he was fighting hard against the urge to dance.
He pushed through the feeling of dance and listened intently to Layla’s words, “That is very suspicious but thank you for the information I’m sure justice shall smile upon you”.
Javal then notices a young elf-woman holding linens he had hoped to get one but it seems whoever that was seems busy.
He’s then surprised to hear that Lady Gwendolyn confronts Layla, “Woah an Ashen Father is controlling his place. Who is it what's going on guys”.
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Post by Vail on May 15, 2023 19:10:01 GMT -5
Vail's eyes widened at the veiled woman's absurd request. He moves his head back down to the bar counter, massaging his temples with his fingers in an attempt to calm his nerves. Despite their well-documented and long-heated rivalry, he sincerely doubts this woman had enough maids to match the number of murderers in Darkveil.
This was getting worse by the second, he expected this from the Javal fellow, but at least this Gwenevere lady had previously shown some modicum of restraint. Sure enough, the naive fellblood was quick to follow her lead. No doubt drawing more attention to them as he asks more questions about the Fathers than any sensible person should.
That. Is. Not. How. This. Works.
It's a rare occurrence to get a meeting with a family capo, and even then, it usually comes with a high price tag, yet these adventurers think they can just stroll past the entire criminal hierarchy of the families and just talk to a Father. If it were so easy, they wouldn’t be referred to by such an ominous moniker nor would there be any need for a puppet like the count. For all these adventurers know, the Fathers themselves could be behind the kidnappings.
He needs to act, ideally before these adventurers stir up a brawl or get themselves stabbed. Pulling himself together, he lifts his head and looks across the bar to Layla. "Are there any rooms available at the moment? I have been on quite the journey and could use some rest."
He glares towards loud adventures, hoping they have enough sense to follow his lead. Booking a room at the most popular (and most physically stable) inn in Darkveil was the least suspicious thing an outsider could do, all things considered. If these guests were up to some nefarious deeds, tailing their departure would likely be more fruitful than drawing the attention of every info-broker lurking in the tavern's dark corners.
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Post by Story Teller: Lynn on May 17, 2023 21:09:42 GMT -5
Layla had just picked up a glass of water from off the counter and was taking a sip when Gwen asked her question. The woman chokes and coughs on the liquid, holding her hand up to her mouth to stop it from spilling out all over the floor behind the bar.
“Gods, what is wrong with you??” She hisses and pulls out a hand towel from under the counter to wipe her mouth. She takes a moment to breathe and regain her composure. “The Ashen Fathers are faceless, so no, I do not know. If I did know, I wouldn’t be running this place. I would be six feet under, or worse. That said, I already have protection. Expensive protection. But so long as I stay in line my business is safe.”
Her patience was wearing thin, but she knew adventuring types well enough to know that they would not relent.
“I sincerely doubt the crime families are behind whatever is going on…it’s too random. They go after one another and they go after those who owe them something. They don’t go after people for no reason because that would be a good way to get all the civilians to rise up against them and sell them out to either the Zeinav Corps or the Capitol. They’re too smart for that. At least, that’s what I thought…”
She sighs. “There have been more gang conflicts since people have been-" she pauses to consider how to finish that sentence without affirming the party's suspicions. "We'll call it leaving. They’re all accusing one another and the businesses they lord over are caught in the middle. Break ins and vandalism are on the rise and the Count is doing fuck all to bring any kind of order to this chaos. It feels like this whole city is one major incident away from going up in flames.”
There’s a bitterness in her voice. The friendly façade the woman has held up until this point was showing its cracks and the fear and frustration were bleeding through the more the group pressured her. Trying to save as much face as she can, she turns away from the group.
“Yes, I have vacancies. More than I would like.” She mutters the last part as she leaves to fetch a few room keys from the back.
The bartender slowly moves back over to the group after putting down the glass he was wiping down. He props and elbow on the counter and leans in with a scowl.
“Ye lot are gonna bring trouble a-knockin’,” the bartender warns after making sure Layla is out of earshot. “Ye should keep yer noses out of Darkveil problems if ye know what is good for yer health. That said, judgin’ by yer naggin’, ye ain’t goin’ ta back off anytime soon.”
He glances about the room then lowers his voice more. “I'll say this much, it’s not just guests who’ve been checkin’ out early if ye believe what she said. Had a few staff up an’ vanish on us too. Left without a word an' only leavin’ a note of resignation.”
Layla then returns with a few keys in hand and the bartender steps back, returning to his meaningless task of polishing the glasses.
“I forgot to ask how many rooms you wanted, I assume you are not sharing accommodations though.” She offers the group three fairly weighty keys. “For three single rooms for one night will be a Solar each. Enjoy your stay.”
While the group acquires rooms, Alvina is having a bit more of a challenging time. The woman definitely notices the feeling of something landing on her fresh linens, as well as noticing the sudden appearance of depressions in the cloth from the invisible familiar’s weight. She drops the linens in surprise and there’s a dulled thud of something hard hitting the floor.
She reaches down to gather the linens back up in a fuss before Alvina reaches into her mind and she stops dead still from the unfamiliar voice intruding in her mind. Glancing around suspiciously, she does not see the familiar thanks to the distortion of light making it invisible to the naked eye. Cautiously, she scoops up the linens and refolds them.
Before the familiar can try to clamber back into the woman’s arms, she hurries towards the cloaked figure who is only a few lengths further down the hall, standing at one of the doors to a room. The woman passes the linens to the cloaked figure who fidgets with the fabric briefly before there is the sound of the door unlocking. The cloaked figure then quietly passes through the opened doorway. A second sound of the lock clicking into place follows shortly after the door is closed. The half-elf woman, still in the hallway, glances about once more before heading back towards Alvina and the staircase.
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Post by Gwendolyn on May 19, 2023 22:06:12 GMT -5
The insolent cur, dare to drop the majestic Alvina. The Haar Gossomaar of the Mystwud forest, seer of ways and changer of fates. He would return after this nonsense, and bound that womans family to servitude for the next four generations. It wasn’t even silken linen. Where was that bratty child, she told Gwendolyn to get up here and she had yet to appear. “Quickly, upstairs and down the hall woman. There is a door that needs entering.” If that did not work she would prance down there and drag her up here herself. The elf servant approached, whatever dastardly deed done now deigned this direction. Alvina stood directly in her path, eager to trip the woman over seemingly nothing. Spite, the only reason necessary. A sense of urgency overcame Gwen as her intuition bid her upstairs. Her annoyance with the situation now clearly matching the growing agitation of all around her. Why could they not talk directly with the Fathers? She was noble blooded, an audience was the least they could offer in exchange for coming all the way over to this dusty impoverished “town” to fix all their problems. She puts a mask of false gratitude to accept the keys as she slides over another solar. Expensive protection, pah. Can’t even protect this womans peace of mind. “Thank you kindly, I’ll leave you alone for the moment. Just one last question if you don’t mind me asking, are there any other entrances or exits to the building? Just in the event I’d like some… fresh air.” (1) Afterwards, Gwen stands from her stool, and walks with a determination upstairs. Once out of sight of the majority of the patrons, she readjusts the ponytail on her head from high pony, to lower right sided with the drape over her shoulder. That was the only marked difference between her Ashlands identity “Lady Gwenevere” and her Capitol landing identity of “Lady Gwentillae”. (2) It was subtle, but surprisingly good enough to not have the assassination of Archduke Francois Fernando linked back to her real persona. Maybe people were just dumb. Actually that was probably it. Reaching the second story shortly afterwards, only seeing the servant. “Over there, to the right. Yesss… That door. Enter it. A man resides within, a tantalizing secret to be discovered. His linen carries something heavy.” Her nose wrinkled slightly as that thought was communicated to her head. His linen? Her intrusive thoughts had certainly taken a surprising turn towards the bizarre, but she shrugged. No better leads to go on. Hopefully linen didn’t mean undergarments. She pops open a potion from her pouch and chugs it, dropping the bottle. (3) A swift kick to the door hinges follows shortly thereafter. Passive Effects: Filter Veil - Airborne poison immunity Secret Identity - Ashlands: Lady Gwenevere > Capitol: Lady Gwentillae Arcane Glasses - Magic detection and Identification In Plain Sight - Lie detection immunity, Secret Identity protection. Infinite Soul - Age immunity SP: Light Fae Alvina - Cat on Floor Tripping Servants 1 Thank you for your Candor: The longer you engage someone in conversation the more likely that they will be to reveal some private or secret information. Your skill to guide and lead conversation as made you an expert information gatherer. A conversation that lasts for three posts will subconsciously force the other participants to be truthful while talking. At the end of three post you may ask the conversationalist one question that must be answered truthfully. 2 Secret Identity Swap 3 Potion of Shadows: A vial of dark purple liquid that swirls and moves on its own. This vial has enough liquid to drink one sip, letting you use it once per topic and the effects of the potion will only last for two post. Once you drink this potion Your motions will become silent, any foot steps, limb movements or actions taken will make no sound what so ever. In addition anything you interact with will also make no sound, including stepping on sticks, rocks or glass.
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Post by Javal Zarrias on May 21, 2023 1:49:00 GMT -5
“Are you okay there Miss Layla it appears you don’t know how to drink water properly. Sir Bartender may I get a glass of water so I may show Miss Layla how to drink water without choking”. He chuckles, “I have choked on the water many times, trust me once you’ll get the hang of it. The Ashen Fathers are not faceless. I know one and he very clearly has a face”, Javal questions.
Nadia then hands Layla a card, “If you ever need further protection you just need to ask and Drakon Security Company will be there”.
“Thank you for confirming our suspicion Miss Layla your help towards the cause of justice shall be remembered and appreciated. All of this crime cannot be allowed to happen to this wonderful city not on my watch even as an outsider. I promise you lady Layla I shall do my best to solve what exactly is going on”.
As Layla leaves to get their room keys Javal responds to the surly bartender, “Yes, having trouble knocking is what we are here to do, I shall open the door to trouble and beat it up in the name of justice. I promise you and Layla I shall bring every person who went missing back”.
Javal smiles and tosses a solar at Layla and picks up his room key, “I shall ponder ways to kidnap people in my room to help in our exploits".
Javal then heads to his room as Nadia slowly walks behind him there was something off about all this her liege is being way too upfront although he was given a certain amount of protection due to being an ashen father’s grandson he’s reckless attitude could bring them big trouble especially here of all places.
Nadia Sadrine (Warlord Minion)
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