The Dark Halberd

Once upon a time in Alexanria, there was a Sith-Makar of the merchant caste. Tpli'tol was new to this side of the great portal that links the two lands, and apparently, got a little inebriated and vanished into the Goblin Quarter.

His concerned sisters have asked the Guild to send people to make inquiries...

...which is how you've wound up at the infamous Ma Rosie's gambling house.

Dancing goblins are on stage (horro!) while people squander their cash on the gaming tables.

This is Halbraeth's first assignment with the Guild, and it shows. He is smartly dressed like a schoolboy on the first day of instruction, his clothes impeccably clean and pressed, his mail and blade newly polished, his unruly hair pressed into some semblance of order. Even his cheeks seem rosy as if newly scrubbed. The young paladin of Daeus is all wide-eyed as they make there way to (and into) Ma Rosie's. Just inside the door, he stops, slack jawed and stares at the stage. "Is that? Oh, sweet Daeus. Is..." He abruptly looks away.

Daechir looks around the establishment with frank curiosity. He stands out a little bit, being both Mul'niessa and with his fine clothing. Daed sighs to himself and stays behind the rest of the group, his red eyes flickering over seemingly everything at once. He doesn't look remotely comfortable.

And Mal walks his way towards the gambling house, with a fairly large Hyena with him. "Looks like this one is it, Trakker. Think you can pick up his scent from here?" The Hyena hoots a couple times before they go in....and Mal just looks about, shaking his head.

While perhaps familiar with Guild jobs, this is the first one that could be summed up as 'find a drunk Sith and haul him out.' And thus far, the only house of ill repute Arzaneth has ever visited was the Ox-Strength... up until she tasted the food.

No more.

Thus, it's with an evident air of bemusement that the looming Arzaneth lumbers in behind the party, crest slowly flattening as she takes in the scene.

...Why is there a steel pole on stage? Doesn't that get in the way of the dancers?

Her lips skin back from her teeth, briefly, as the smells assail her nose. But, a job is a job, and she tracks over the gathered crowd, looking for a People that fits the description. Shouldn't be *that* hard...

Iskandar stares. This is a first for him as well. Somehow he has avoided Goblintown altogether. "Does anyone know what Tpli...Tipl...what he looks like?" He peers around. "I had assumed he would stand out..."

Mal'Thael says, "Sith'makar can blend in when they want to. Especially in a place like this." Mal says to Iskandar. "I'm sure we can find him here. Just a matter of finding him in one piece." He then looks to his Hyena. "If you know the sith'makar scent....try and find him, Trakker.""

"Truly," rumbles the large Sith behind the party, "an exsspert on the People you mussst be." Blowing out a long, slow sigh between her teeth, she uncoils her posture a bit, perfectly content to risk scraping the ceiling to get a better look around the establishment.

"Perhaps we should just ask the proprietress...um...Mistress Rosie if she know of his whereabouts," Halbraeth suggests helpfully, his pale blue eyes scanning the room for someone who looks like they are in charge. "If he's lost, perhaps he has let someone know. Or, at the very least, perhaps he has made an impression by being...out of place." His eyes happen to land on the stage. "What is that goblin doing with that vegetable?"

Daechir makes a low amused noise and considers several courses of action. Instead he remains at the back of the group watching them. The twinkling of bells so quiet that it's almost unheard.

"Something you'd rather not think about at the moment." Mal says to Halbraeth. He then looks to Arzaneth. "Can you find him?"

GAME: Daechir rolls perception: (15)+3: 18
GAME: Arzaneth rolls perception: (15)+9: 24
GAME: Halbraeth rolls sense motive: (2)+7: 9
GAME: Mal'Thael rolls perception: (18)+9: 27
GAME: Iskandar rolls sense motive: (2)+7: 9

...spending time working amongst the crowd is the best place to tart, obviously. Questions are asked, people observed. For the most part, few remember seeing the Sith-Makar and the employees are reluctant to talk, for the most part.

They've got work to do, after all.

Still, it's a raucous, loud, lively place full of Hobs and Gobs and Oruchs and... every other race, actually, just less of them.

Iskandar drifts off away from the others, to get a different vantage spot. By complete coincidence this leaves him near the bar. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth he gets himself a goblet of wine.

Halbraeth swallowes thickly, looking a little green, then simple gives a nod to Mal, acknowledging that he is correct. And with that, he sets off to canvas some of the nearby crowd. It doesn't seem to be going well for the paladin. "No," he seems to be saying to a particularly garishly dressed hob. "I don't think he's into that kind of thing. Or, well, I don't really know, but...how is that even /possible/?"

Mal'Thael tilts his head as he notices the one manning the blackjack table. "Come on, Trakker." he says stomping his way over towards the blackjack table.....and the hyena bounds ahead......making it a point to sniff at the goblin....even pushing at him....

A large, dappled-black Sith looming up behind Mal can't be any less intimidating, really. Arzaneth doesn't do talking terribly well, so, it seems at this point she's content to lend... weight... to Mal'Thael's words.

Daechir follows Mal'Thael and Arzaneth, and he seeing their tack, looms menacingly as well. It's not just the sharp white teeth. It's not just that he's Mul'niessa. There's something evil glimmering in his eyes. "Hello," He offers in a low tone. "We have some questions for you I think." He allows his grin to widen.

AS everyone converges on the 'squirrely Goblin', he stops and puts his hands up. Eyes wide.

"...what? Can't you see I'm trying to run a game here?" he blinks several times, looking nervous. Sweating.

Some of the guards are starting to notice this but aren't making an approach yet. It's more an unspoken 'make it quick, guys!'.

Mal'Thael says, "All we want is to know where the Sith-makar went. After that, we'll leave you alone. Might even throw a tip your way. But the info's gotta be good." he then smiles. "So, help us out."

Halbraeth looks relieved at Mal's choice of words, his shoulders dropping slightly and a boyish smile blooming on his face. "Everybody wins," he adds by way of support. "Plus, I know you wouldn't want anything bad to happen to folks who come here to play your games. Word gets out people are disappearing, the games dry up." He keeps his voice sotto voce, as if hoping those playing at the goblin's table won't hear. The words are still audible, however.

"...Tpli'tol, iss the name of the Ssith," Arzaneth rumbles over Mal's head. "He iss misssed."

"What sith makar I have no idea what y5ou're talking about ha ha ha ha ha," nervous laughter follows. The bouncers in the distance fold their arms across their chests, eyeing him.

"See, there's a Sith right there," he points at Arzaneth. Like he can't tell the difference between the two of them.

MORE LOOKING AROUND. INCREASING LEVELS OF ANXIETY.

Daechir allows his smile to slip back a few degrees. Looking very unhappy. He says a few words ominously in a low voice and drops his hand on the goblin's shoulder. It falls heavily. The other drops below the table and begins to glow with purple flames in the palm. He looks casual to the outsider, but his expression is all hard for the goblin. "Tpli'tol. Tell us where he is."

"But the one we are looking for is a male, this one is a female. So.....If you continue to keep your information....your tip will keep getting smaller." Mal'thael then starts to growl. "And I'm not exactly.....patient."

Iskandar freezes with his goblet raised to his lip. He notices for the first time what the rest of the party is up to. What did I miss? he thinks. Then with a slight shrug he takes a few final gulps.

Edinaz folds his arms across his chest -- he doesn't say much so far. Right now, he's a goon. A hired goon.

Halbraeth shifts uncomfortably as the tension in the room grows. "Violence would be bad for business. Certainly your livelihood is more important than keeping secret the location of a lost Sith-Makar?" He offers a hopeful smile.

Upon being pointed out, Arzaneth narrows her blood-red eyes, loosing a snort and folding her arms. This is uncomfortably familiar territory for her, but, there's something to be said about playing the thug on one's own recognizance.

"It is?" says the goblin, squinting at Arzaneth now.

A once over.

"Huh," he says, in a way that indicates he'd never have guessed the appropriate gender.

"Oh well," he says, clearing his throat. "Uhm. Well. Tpli'tol...yeah! I remember now! He left with a couple of oruchs. Something about.. sailing the ocean?"

Oh no.

GAME: Mal'Thael rolls knowledge/local: (13)+1: 14
GAME: Halbraeth rolls intelligence: (16)+1: 17
GAME: Daechir rolls intelligence: (16)+1: 17
GAME: Arzaneth rolls intelligence: (8)+0: 8
GAME: Edinaz rolls intelligence: (20)+0: 20

Daechir immediately lets the fire fade out and steps away from the goblin, motioning to his comrades. "If he is right... We should leave quickly." He heads toward the door with a few quick graceful steps ignoring all the... sights on the way back. When he reaches the doors he sighs with relief and heads outside. The air smells all the cleaner for not being within.

"Thanks!" Despite the cheer of the world, Halbraeth looks ill at ease as he glances to his companions. Still, he takes the time to liberate a single gold coin from somewhere on his person. He claps it down on the table in the hopes that it will reinforce the idea of cooperation as a good thing. And with that, he starts to make his way quickly toward the exit.

Edinaz bows his head. "Sailors. We need to hurry." He turns to go as well, rushing to shadow Daechir.

"yeah. We should try and find them then. From the way it sounds, he's been press ganged into an oruch crew. That's never good." Mal'thael claps a gold onto the table to match Halbraeth's and starts his wayout. As he starts to trot out, he whistles. "TRAKKER! LET'S GO!" And out thunders the large Hyena.....

"Hn," Arzaneth grunts, bobbing her head at the goblin, then moving swiftly to catch up to her allies. "They will regret sssuch poor thinking, if what you sssay issss true."

...you arrive at the docks. They are very busy. There are a /lot/ of ships. A lot of them.

They're busy, quite, actually.

It occurs to you that he could be on /any/ of these. Great.

Edinaz turns in a slow circle. "Do we ask all of them?"

"He left with Oruchs. So that gives us a place to start," Halbraeth suggests, his eyes already scanning the nearest ships. "We might also be able to ask the harbor master..."

Mal'Thael says, "It's just as likely the ship we're looking for is in Yrch. Start looking for ships that are named in Yrch, and we'll start there."

Daechir looks around and sighs, climbing up the nearest stack of crates to get a look around. "Then should we split up and search each of the ships individually?" His tone is dry as though he in fact thinks this is a terrible idea. Instead he murmurs a few words and twists his fingers. Then in a booming voice loud enough for eight men calls out, "Tpli'tol!"

GAME: Daechir casts Ghost Sound. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14

Edinaz nods. "I can look for Yrch names." He turns and points to Daechir. "When you yell for us, we will come back to you."

GAME: Halbraeth rolls diplomacy: (19)+11: 30
GAME: Daechir rolls perception: (3)+3: 6
GAME: Baz da Ork rolls perception: (2)+5: 7
GAME: Edinaz rolls perception: (5)+7: 12

Edinaz starts prowling the docks, not-suspiciously-at-all, staring at ship names, looking for Yrch-named ships, and looking for their target. It's not scientific, but he's trying to be systematic. It's big and confusing here, though.

GAME: Iskandar rolls diplomacy: (4)+7: 11

After the first call Daed remains conspicuously silent, his dark eyes roaming over the docks from where he is. Both to keep an eye on his companions and to try and find the sith-makar. The longer he stands there, the more uncomfortable he seems with his current role of lookout and fallback point.

The booming voice coming from Daechir makes Hal wince, but then cock his head in hope. After a few drawn out seconds, however, he shakes his head. "I think the fastest way to do this is to run to the harbormaster. I'll meet you back here with what I learn." And with that, he sets off, mail glinting in the sun, working up a sweat as he cuts through the crowd toward the office. There, his words are simple: "I am a paladin of Daeus and have good reason to believe that one of the ships in the harbor has gang pressed a citizen. I need a list of all Yrch ships in port, with those departing in the next few hours at the top of the list. I know you run a clean harbor. Let's keep it that way."

GAME: Arzaneth rolls perception: (14)+9: 23

Iskandar goes to the first ship. A few of the crew are loitering outside and he tries to talk to them. They must have drawn the short straws and had to remain near the ships while the rest are in town. They don't seem pleased to be speaking with him. It's really tough to find a single crewman on a single ship on the busy docks with little idea of whether or not they're even still here.

Searching ship after ship to see if it has Oruch crew members you can see, for example, is hard and time consuming, and who knows whether the ship the oruch spotted with your quarry were with is actually predominantly oruch in the first place.

It's the harbormaster, in the end, that makes the difference. The jingle of coins in his ear from Halbraeth and persuasive words causes him to open his tome and begin looking for recent signees of ship's articles. 

"Ah, right, here. Here. I remember hearing they had a Sith make his X on one of these papers... Right! The Dark Halberd. It's a garbage scow, just so you know. Don't ask me why. I think the oruchs got pretentious again." 

He shrugs, glancing towards Halbraeth and then lets him go about his business. 

You now have a name. It is, apparently, in port.

With a word of thanks for the harbormaster, Halbraeth, shoves open the door and jogs back to the place where he last left the company, a trickle of sweat sliding down the side of his cheek from his temple. Hopefully, most of them have not gone too far. For those that have, they will just need to move on without them, for time is of the essence. "Garbage Scow. The Dark Halberd," he half-pants, half-declares. And with that, he sets off both keeping out an open eye and asking sailors they meet along the way.

With Halbraeth's arrival Daed calls back the remainder of the group with another spell, and then follows the other man in search of the specific ship that they are looking for.

Iskandar frowns but follows closely. "We may have to fight to free him," he warns. Not that seems to bother him much. "Oruch crews. Very tough. And they fight dirty."

GAME: Daechir casts Ghost Sound. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14

Edinaz trots back at the call, using his size to make sure he has a path through to his group.

Following along behind Iskandar, Arzaneth's crest rises, and the general set of her shoulders says that if their fears about their quarry's status is correct, she's *glad* to hear they'll be tough.

It's not a good lesson if they go down in a couple punches, after all.

Finding the Dark Halberd, now that you can just ask for it directly, is not the hardest thing to do.

As Daechir's name calling occurs again, you can see a mottled, grey Sith-Makar on the deck of the barge perk up and wave frantically while a handful of irritated Oruch are looking down at you.

"The hell is the meaning of this?" rumbles a very (seven feet tall) large Oruch from the deck of the ship. He tromps down the gangplank.

Annoyed Captain is annoyed.

Edinaz glowers at the Captain. The talking is for someone else, but the glowering? It is for him! At least he's pretty much the size of the captain.

"Hello, Captain. We have reason to believe that the Sith-Makar you have taken aboard your vessel is not going of his own volition. And his waving desperately at us would seem to confirm that notion. Please let him off your ship before authorities greater than we are involved." Halbraeth smiles widely.

With the group now around him, Daed once more slips back into the background of the group. He's clearly glad to be out of the limelight, his red eyes flickering around. However once they're within speaking distance of the ship he does adopt a stance that suggests that he is willing to fight with his group if needed. One hand never far from the rapier at his side.

"Issat right?" says the glowering, muscular, green-skined Oruch in the sailor's outfit with the ridiculously over featehred Captain's hat.

"He signed the papers just fine. You got a problem with that? Well, too bloody bad. Those are the rules."

The Sith looks around. Slowly. Gauging how distracted people are.

Iskandar seems to recognize what the Sith whose name he still can't quite pronounce is thinking. Either that, or he's feeling all the wine he had earlier. "Rules? RULES?!" he bellows. Loud even for him. He puffs up himself and goes to stand toe-to-toe with the captain. "What kind of captain are you anyway? Have you seen the state of your ship's prow?!" he points to show what he's talking about, and hopefully distract even further from whatever the Sith wants to do.

"Rulesss," Arzaneth hisses, standing up to her full height, curling her fingers to crack every last one of her knuckles. "Rulesss are sso important, are they not? Rulesss, what keepsss a ssship's captain from being named sssslaver. And *all* know what Alexssandria thinksss of sssslaversss. What the *Guild* thinksss of ssslaversss."

As his companions express their own feelings on the matter, Halbraeth remains silent, forcing his face to maintain its smile. His cheeks hurt, but his eyes are kind. He holds out his hands in a gesture that suggests the present situation might be more than the captain wants for an untrained sailor.

Daechir glances around, looking more uncomfortable by the second, but his hand remains on his rapier.

GAME: Iskandar rolls bluff: (10)+7: 17
GAME: Arzaneth rolls intimidate: (7)+8: 15
GAME: Edinaz rolls intimidate: (6)+8: 14
GAME: Daechir rolls intimidate: (4)+8: 12

Edinaz doubles down on the glowering, clearly not impressed at the invocation of RULES. He makes a derisive noise, and just stares.

Words give him pause, it seems, especially accusations of slaving.

"Now hold on a minute. There ain't no slaves here," he adds, a bit rattled. "He gets paid for the year, like all of us do. And he signed the contracts! I'd need a replacement."

Edinaz cracks his neck, audibly. "Did he sign it, or did someone help him with the paperwork?"

"He just joined. If you have already paid him for the year, I'm sure he'd be willing to give the pay in his pocket back. If you haven't paid him, then you aren't out." Halbraeth, though he is still smiling, does not disguise the fact that there is a thinning of patience.

"Thisss sssoundsss a fair bargain," Arzaneth agrees, slooooowly nodding her head. Knucklecrack.

"I have a better idea. Paladin, will you be kind enough to bring the harbormaster? Surely he can work out this matter of payment. And... if this ship /is/ running slaves then it is best to find out now than before they leave shore." Daechir smiles widely while he talks, his red eyes still flickering around as though looking for something.

Iskandar takes a step back from the captain. This may all be a misunderstanding, he's starting to think. Perhaps the Sith wants to see the world...from a garbage scow...captained and crewed by Oruch. Now Iskandar is scowling. "Clearly you're taking advantage of a newcomer to this city," he begins. "And more importantly, his SISTERS are WORRIED about him!"

"...did you say sisters?" says Tpli'tol.

"MY SISTERS ARE HERE?"

"YOU KNOW," he begins, "MAYBE A YEAR ON A SCOW IS NOT A BAD IDEA." His trade is good.

"HA HA HA," nervous laughter. "HA HA HA."

Now the Oruchs are staring at him.

The captain holds his hands out. "Now, look. I don't want any trouble with the harbor masters here, eh? We can resolve this. Maybe you can recruit me another sailor to take his place, eh?"

"I'm sure you can recruit your own sailors," Halbraeth says warmly. "If they aren't, in fact, slaves. I'll be right back with the harbormaster. Good idea. He'll clear it right up." He offers a smile of thanks to Daed, then turns to go.

"OKAY, OKAY," says the Oruch loudly after Hal's last words. "He can go. We got better things to do than deal with city bullshit, right boy?"

There's grumbling assent.

Tpli'tol laughs nervously, "NO REALLY I CAN STAY HERE MY SISTERS NEEDN'T TROUBLE YOU ANYMORE HAHAHAHAHA," very nervous. Sisters are scary.

And now that things seem to be peacefully, of not happily, resolved, Arzaneth looses a long sigh, and speaks up in Draconic. << Tpil'otl you are too scared of your sisters. They are not *here.* *We* are here. Focus your fear where it will do more good for all of us. >>

Daed clearly agrees with the others, the Sith-makar is free to make his own choice now, and if he would prefer to stay with the Oruch... The Mul'niessa turns his back on the situation and walks away making sure to note the name of the ship for later.

"...mmmngh. You know what they're like, don't you? Tehy're SISTERS," he explains, using the trade tongue for his clutch mates. It's close enough. he hops off the ship, though, and walks down the gangplank much to the costernation of the Oruch.

"Fiiiine," he says with a lengthy sigh.

Halbraeth utters a laugh. "Better the slavers you know than the slavers you don't." He claps the Sith-Makar on the back, then makes to follow Daechir, sea breeze ruffling his dark hair.

Edinaz does the job, and turns to walk in step with the sith'makar. His mouth twists, but he doesn't smile just now.

"....No," Arzaneth mutters to herself as she shuffles off at the trailing end of the party. "I do not."

-End-