Renew the Pact: Undocumented, part 1
Log Info
- Title: Renew the Pact: Undocumented, part 1
- Emitter: Thurid
- Characters: Paenitia, Aryia, Lillianath
- Place: A05: Warehouse District
- Time: Monday, April 26, 2021, 2:33 PM
- Summary: A number of valuable historical documents en-route to the Reclaimers were stolen on arriving in Alexandria. The reclaimers are seeking adventurers to try and find, and if possible, recover these stolen documents as they may contain important information on the Pact with the sundered god Animus, and clues on how to restore him. Paenitia, Aryia and Lillianath, all fresh faces to Alexandria, answer the call. They question a beggar en route to the warehouses near the docks, then plan their next move.
=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A05: Warehouse District *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The Tornwawr River cuts along the edge of this section, it's broad expanse creating the district's eastern border, making the river's west banks a series of small docks for the warehouses that crowd up to it. Ships and barges dot the river surface, making deliveries and putting in for repairs. No few bear a nod to Rada, their proud sails bearing Rada's symbol, or three, for luck's sake. They also fly the colours of many nations and city-states, all sending their trade to Alexandria.
After the row of warehouses, the district's street's house small offices dotted with the names of shipping companies and various industries. Tucked in between is the occasional sailor's tavern. Beyond that, simple townhouses in tight rows provide homes for the area's workers. The area is bustling, especially with some working the night shifts, but the rowdiness is low. There's hard work to be done, and that requires a good night's, or good day's, sleep and the warehousing is loud enough without any roughhousing, thank you kindly.
South, the Great Sea wall and the Port of Alexandria are visible.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a lost look about her. Lillianath 5'0" 117 Lb Dawn Elf Female Perpetually worried-looking elf woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Thurid 7'1" 249 Lb Giantborn Female Bright-eyed, muscular, blond Giantborn woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
While many jobs are posted publically on the noticeboards in the Advenuturer's guild, this particular job seems to be a touch more sensitive. The adventurers have been approached directly, and perhaps unexpectedly, as many of them are fairly fresh faces in the adventuring climate of Alexandria. They have been asked to meet in one of the private meeting rooms of the guild.
Waiting for them in the room is a fresh-faced gnome, with a shock of bright green hair and not a whisker on his chin- which is quite at odds with the large, round and thick-lensed glasses he wears and his ostentatious- but unusually drab in color- robes. He sits atop a stack of books piled high on a chair, allowing him to tower over visitors despite being... well, a gnome.
Clanking into the room is a knight errant in rusty red armour. The ensemble complemented by a crimson coat, wide brimmed hat and a feather cloak made of shocking large peacock feathers. Notably, this individual wears a mask of a smiling face. A masculine visage with wide mustache, arched eyebrows and a huge grin. The face it hides is most definitely not a man's, from the shape of her armour.
The Red Knight, a lucht, from her height, bare feet and bouncy step, marches up to stand in front of the gnome. So close she has to tilt her head back enough that her hat seems more like a bullseye target. "Hola! Where is the stack of books for me to stand so high?"
One such person was met just on the inside of the guild, them mere inspecting the place before rubbing their neck and giving a small nod. An unassuming yet scarred mul'neissa steps in behind the knight. She wasn't too much to look at, a tattered long sleeved shirt and pants with shoddy boots. A brown cloak rests on her shoulders, one that was pulled tight around her. She steps aside, looking up at the towering gnome and the red knight with a curious gaze.
Behind the mul'niessa drifts an elven woman, clad in a rough working-man's version of an Elunan's robes, wearing a cloth that throws the top half of her face into concealing shadow. Sliding to one side of the doorway so as not to block it, the Seer clasps her hands together and smiles to the gnome. "It sounded rather important, Master Arcanist. How may I be of service?"
"Outrage! Ignomity! Absurdity!" the Gnome says then, pointing at the adventurers, eyes bugging out of his skull somewhat, before he manages to collect himself. "Ahem. Well." he says then, and pauses a moment, tapping his chin. "So, it may be that something was stolen. Something important was stolen!" he says then, pausing for dramatic effect. "Or rather, several somethings. A veritable multitude of somethings! Or, at least, four or five." he says then. Another pause. "Scrolls! From the library of Rune, scrolls pertaining to the earliest days of the age of man, in fact!" he continues in his disjointed way.
Another breath, "Right, right, I'll start at the beginning." he mutters, as though responding to some unheard voice. "I represent The Reclaimers. You might've heard of us? we've been seeking information on the shards of the sundered god, Animus. And of late, we've taken a particular interest in renewing the pact forged with the god aeons ago. To that end, I requested these scrolls from a colleague of mine. And he was happy to oblige. Delighted, even!"
More pointing, as though he intensely wants this random assemblage of adventurers to believe his colleague was happy to help. "But, alass, misfortune struck. A group of base rogues intercepted the documents when they arrived in the docks. How they knew they were there, I've no idea. Nor what they plan to do with them or even if they know their value. What I do know is they are wary, and it seems as though us reclaimers are known to them. Any efforts to investigate have resulted in sullen stares and silence from the locals in the area."
The Red Knight crosses her arms and stares upwards. There will be no lofty perch of books for her, it seems. She listens, nodding, her hat with its peacock plume bobbing from the motion.
"These scrolls are only useful to men of letters? You wish us to offer for buying, or bash the heads of the desparados?" She asks happily.
The quiet Mul'neissa scratches her head from all the pointing and seemingly rambling explanation, but it looks like she got the gist of it. Though no recognition flashes across her face at the name 'Reclaimers'. And she herself hangs around the docks often enough, though she didn't notice anything odd as of late. She opens a journal from her side pack and silently takes notes, attentive.
"Knowledge is oft as precious as gold," says the Seer, "or more, to the right buyer. Whether they were sent or simply well-connected, they'll not likely be willing to part with their prize. One can hope, but..." The elf sighs, shaking her head. "Best to be prepared for the worst. The greater task will be finding these thieves, as it sounds that they have a hold over the dockworkers."
"Could be they plan to sell it on, it's true. Or else even ransom it back to us, though they've made no overtures towards that. Yet!" the Gnome says then, "But, it could be they are with the Syndicate. And the Syndicate are in with Illotha, so I wouldn't doubt they had something even more nefarious on their minds than wonton greed." he says then.
He nods his head, briefly stroking an imaginary beard at the Seer's words, "That's right! With coin or threats they've convinced just about everyone we've asked after to say nothing. The Guard hasn't had any more luck. That's why I had the fantastic, ingenous idea to get..." he glances between the group for a moment, searching for the words, "Fresh adventurers, who might be able to get more answers, if they don't think you've any connection to us or the guard."
"Ok!" The Red Knight says decisively, "you have the word of Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Haranna, Knight of the Pillar and Paladina of Tarien, that this will be seen into. We shall talk to the heads, and see what they say."
She spins around, spreading her arms wide and looking upwards at the taller shadow elf, and the much taller dawn elf, "You will be with me as comrades? In this thing? You," the Dark Lucht looks at Lillianath, "know the worth of paper gold if they sell to us, and not Illotha?"
"The gnome of no name is good for the funds, I am sure."
GAME: Paenitia rolls knowledge/local: (9)+8: 17
A lot of Alexandria's beggars are with the guild of the sly, rather than the syndicate, and might be willing to help.
"I'll be able to verify the writings, if not fully understand them," Lillianath allows, lowering her head briefly. "To truly grasp such concepts as our friend sought to research requires dedicated study, and my expertise lies in a rather... rougher field. But be assured that if given the option, I will see that cooler heads prevail."
The Seeress' hood turns toward the gnome. "Might you know what ship that the scrolls were on was named? If you can give us that, it would go a long way towards starting our investigation under a good star."
"The ship? Oh the ship! Yes." He says then, and he tilts his butt to one side so that he can extract the topmost book from his throne, causing him to loose a couple of inches of his height advantage. He opens it up, spilling a handfull of loose notepaper onto the ground around him, which he doesn't seem to care about, before he finds the page in question. He adjusts his large glasses, and leans in very close to the page, mouthing the word as he reads it.
"It was the Vagabond Noblesse. Coastal cargo cutter." he explains. "I don't know if it's still in the docks. The guard searched it twice, and the captain was anxious to leave, but they might've kept it gorunded till we can settle this. One of my associates was pestering about such a thing, but I neglected to ask how it went."
Aryia had to admit, it was a rather good idea. Fresh faces meant there weren't any doors closed to them just yet. She began scribbling some things down beforehand while nodding along.
She blinks at being addressed so brazenly by Paenitia. The shadow elf nods a few more times, turning her journal around towards the lucht. In a scrawling Tradespeak, it reads:
"I am Aryia. I canot speek. I wil try to help as best I can. Tho Im not to good at papr things."
"Hola Aryia! I can read, so we will be ok." Paenitia says cheerfully. Everything seems extravagant on her part, exagerated and wild. She even spins and sweeps up the dropped notes with a flourish and the clanky accompanyment of her armour. She flips through them with brief curiosity, then slaps them on the stand of books between the gnome's feet.
"There are a few I should speak to, along the way, that may tell us more." She looks over her shoulder. Her dark curls are right up to the edge of her mask, only her eyes are visible. Her mask is always smiling, presumably she is. "My mind is the quarter horse, and has run the length of track. I have no more to ask. If you have, speak! Write the questions."
Aryia teeters a bit, her flipping forward and back through a few pages before scribbling something down and holding it up to the gnome.
- "Wat do the scrols look lyke? R they in a seeld case?"
"A good question," Lillianath says, nodding at the journal. "I believe I've asked all I can think to as well, but if Mistress Aryia has more to ask, I believe the answers will help us all."
The notes Paenitia collects up are haphazard scribbles, to call the Gnome's handwriting 'chicken scratch' is an insult to the noble landfowl. However, there are some pictures and arcane diagrams, which are better depicted, if no easier to decypher. The gnome scootches forwards and leans down to look at Aryia's notebook- and the stack of tomes he sits on teeters precariously as he does. He adjusts his glasses again, and squints, to read it. "Ah! Yes, the scrolls are each vellum with mahogany rods. They were kept in a leather carrying case, about yae long." he stretches his arms out wide- and then settles back before he tips off his seat.
Aryia quickly nods and notes that down, pen scratching against the page underneath her question.
"That is good to know." The Red Knight says, turning around and marching up to Aryia and Lillianth. Again she stands too close, leans her head back so the smiling mask faces upwards at them. "Let us leave before the ship, he sail."
A little quieter, conspiratorialy so, Paenitia says, "The poor of Alexandria, many be in the Guild of the Sly. A few coins for the beggars, they may tell us things they see, from the outside the Syndicate."
This said, a cheerful wave is given to the gnome, the little Lucht seemingly ready to depart on the mission.
"A very good point," Lillianath murmurs back, nodding. "And probably a good place to start."
Straightening, she bows to the gnome with a wide smile. "Thank you, Master Arcanist. We shall do all we can to see these scrolls are returned to you."
Aryia snaps a finger and points at the Red Knight, nodding in agreement. She closes her journal and waves at the gnome, looking ready to roll with a hand in a pocket and her book in the other hand.
And so the group make their way out of the Adventurer's Guild, and begin making their way south towards the docks. It's not too long a walk, though the markets and warehouse district. Along the way, Paenitia will spy no shortage of beggars and pan handlers, and perhaps the occasional would-be pickpocket.
Once outside of the Explorer's Guild, the Red Knight retrieves her mount. He is almost unbelievable, a horse sized peacock with a tail train that is easily as long as a wagon. A full sized human would seem small in the saddle, the little Lucht is easily dwarfed by her steed. A tiny rider in red, atop the ivory feathery finery.
Ramirez, as becomes obvious by the many times she calls his name, struts down the street. While the pair may not be well known by many, they have a reputation for generosity. Paenitia stops several times, to call down 'Holas', 'Good Days', and 'Well met my friend, you are well?' to various poor souls. Coin often follows. She parts easily with silvers, occasionally golds.
One in a while she will lean over, she never dismounts, to ask, "I look for scrolls to buy, important academicals. Have you heard any of these?"
<OOC> Thurid says, "+2 if you're donating a silver, +5 if you're donating a gold" GAME: Paenitia rolls diplomacy: (3)+6: 9
Aryia gives the peacock a bewildered look upon first meeting them before shaking her head and heading off down the road with the group. Despite the location being a bit more dangerous for one's coinpurse, Aryia felt more at ease around the docks. Letting the others deal with the talking for her, she keeps an eye out for any funny business.
The beggar, an older woman who is missing two fingers from one of her hands- she claims due to a machining accident, but rumor has it they were taken when she was caught pickpocketing- has some information she's willing to share with Paenitia. "Oh, aye, might've heard a thing or two. There wus a ruckus down the docks few nights past. Memory aint what it used to be mind." she offers the masked rider coyly. "Might be as I'd remember more ifn I had a drink to warm my belly." she adds after a moment, offering a gap-toothed smile.
<OOC> Lillianath wishes to Aid Another at this point. :D GAME: Lillianath rolls diplomacy: (11)+8: 19
At this point, the Seer circles around from behind the massive peacock, raising a hand to its beak for a moment to allow it to get to know her. "Perhaps a drink and a hot meal, Sera? Good gossip fetches a good price, after all, and I know for a fact that Drumlin at the Lower Market is trying out a new pork-pie recipe."
The beggar glances between the group, and makes an elaborate show of scratching her cheek with her good hand while she mulls things over. "Well. Take it with a grain of salt, if you would. But if I were looking for scrolls, I might start at warehouse B12 East." she says then, and offers a shrug. And then holds out her hand, offering the gap-toothed smile once more.
"A good price indeed," says the Seer with a nod, digging from her satchel a round, waxed-paper bundle half as big around as her head, and a pint-bottle of wine. "Enjoy with my blessing and the Moon's, good Sera, and thank you very much."
Paenitia holds onto her saddle, leans down and passes over a gold. Her voice, high pitched to go with her size, is cheerful and light. "Drink well my friend, and eat. The world rides on full bellies. You have helped us."
She pulls herself back up with a wave.
Ramirez meanwhile, follows Lillianath with his head, watching her with a large red eye. He sniffed her hand, making an odd wickering noise. Perhaps not so odd, considering he is half-horse, though his fluffy hindquarters blend so well with his tail its easy to overlook. The dawn-elf is accepted as friend.
"Be safe, Sera, much gratitude." Paenitia well wishes, settling herself in the saddle, "Onward Ramirez! We go the B12 East warehouse!"
'Ruuaaaah!' Her peacock replies, as if he knows. He doesn't.
Aryia snorts from the humorous display, her listening to the bit of information before looking up and down the street idly. To be honest, she didn't know where the warehouse would be, she'd only been in city for a couple of weeks.
The warehouse district as it turns out is a bit of a maze. Many winding back alleys and unclear signposts, coupled with years upon years of fairly rapid expanding of Alxandria's bustling trades. However, they eventually find a section of the district which seems to be the one they are after- at least, it is the east warehouse district. A wide path conveys them along, to one side an artificial waterway which small cargo skiffs can carry their fares to larger boats waiting in the docks.
This waterway is occasionally marked by broad doors on the brick and mortar warehouses which line it, with smaller channels to allow the skiffs directly into the warehouses. And these doors have their names or numbers painted upon them. Soon enough, they find themselves just down the road from the one they are looking for. B12. There are no obvious signs of activity this vening- the large doors are shut, and the drawbridge is lowered.
"We'll likely not be admitted, if we simply ask to inspect the warehouse," Lilli murmurs. "A ruse might allow us swifter entry. Perhaps we adventurers seek a fair deal for wares that have not been claimed, and merely occupy space on behalf of delinquent merchants?"
Aryia shrugs as she opens up her journal and writes in it.
"Betr idea than mine, wich was to kik the dor open and jus go in to look for the scrols," it says, showing it to the other two.
Paenitia pulls on the reins, whispering, "Ramirez, halt."
The Red Knight twists in her saddle, looking behind her at the elves, she nods thoughtfully. "The idea is good. You should ask, we can stand as the porters." She waves, including Aryia with herself and her peacock.
"The other is to sneak in. There are the two doors, the large and the larger. This is not the best idea."
Between each of the warehouses, smaller side roads can be found- leading to the rear of each of them. The party will have seen from their explorations that some of the other warehouses have side or rear entrances in these alleyways, and this one may be no different. Though it is further down the street from them, they can see that the door looks to be sturdy nd barred shut. It has a metal plate covering a slot at roughly eye level (for a human) on the door, likely a peep hole or letterbox of some sort. Either way, there don't seem to be any workers or guards out front.
Aryia makes a swooshing motion with her hand and turning it to the right before pointing to the turn up a ahead. She scribbles down more and presents it.
"I can sneek if I have to. May b side door we can go in. Dozent seem lyke any one here on outside."
"The ruse or the sneaking?" Paenitia asks, "Which?"
Aryia writes, holding up her book. "Both?"
Lillianath says, "It *might* be best to do both."
The Red Knight says, "Hmmm..."
to be continued...
Map
https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mueu811iv07
Dramatis Personae
Paenitia
Small, dark and winsome.
On a Giant white peacock.
Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Harrana, is a crimson knight astride an ivory steed. A dark skinned Lucht Siuil, her black hair hangs in ringlets to mid-back, wild, untamed, loose. Matching fetlocks curl about her shins, demure, tamed, tied back with crimson bows. She wears a broad feathered hat, a matching single shoulder cape, both crafted from the bold feathers of her mount; striking white with red eyes. Beneath that hat, a smiling mask with rosy cheeks and a wide upturned moustache. Her armour has the same patina, an elaborate breastplate, rusted to match the mesas of her homeland. Paenitia's deep eyes smoulder behind the mask, and her skin, where visible, is a warm mahogany that is both heritage and time in the sun. She moves with an intensity overwhelming for her size.
Ramirez, her mount, is an eye-catching hippogryph. An albescent peacock gypsy-andalusan breed. Glorious, the size of a strong warhorse, his tail could cover a cart and easily hides his fluffy equine hind. His forelegs are the delicate and deceptively strong legs of the avian, and his body flows well into his feathery trail. Almost completely white, Ramirez is blood red on his neck, shoulders and breast, with the same bold colour in his crown and his many tailfeather eyes. He struts about regally, staring imperiously, proud and beautiful. Paenitia's saddle straps his midsection and has its own tail fan, a scabbard candelabra of pole arms that lies along his back.
She's from the land of the wind, tilting against windmills. A self-appointed knight, tiny and trite, riding a fancy and brings twice the fight.
Aryia
This mul is built lithe and quick, body honed to be its own weapon. She doesn't stand too terribly tall, yet her stature doesn't help with how she squirrels herself away.
Heavy scarring lines every inch of exposed dark colored flesh, that almost a dim grey. Her face shows youth, yet her milky eyes betray a hard life were her self not evidence enough. Moon colored hair comes down to just past her shoulders, though it a damaged and a tangled mess. The entire front of her throat is a mass of scarring, deep wounds from long past.
Attire wise, she doesn't have much. A simple yet tattered long sleeved tunic and pants, coupled with shoddy boots for shoes. She hides away in a brown cloak most of the time.
Lillianath
Lean and stringy, this elf moves with the assurance and grace of her years, her bearing projecting a quiet, reassuring competence.
Much of her upper face is kept in shadow, due to the long, blue-trimmed white headdress she wears. Somewhere between a hood and a veil, this single piece of material is held in place by a slim silver circet, and is gathered to fall to her knees behind her. In the shadows, bright yellow eyes regard the world with incipient concern; as if she knows that sometime soon, trouble is going to happen, and someone will have to deal with it.
Her armor is simple and utilitarian; a steel breastplate, emblazoned with Eluna's crescent, over a deep blue shirt and pants made of strips of rugged canvas. White leather gloves and boots complete the outfit, with black soles and an extra pad of black on the palms.
Around her neck she wears a strange bone carving of half a heart trailing into wisping flames. This pendant seems almost to have been fashioned by two different craftsmen; flowing, careful detail seems to war with crude, claw-like marks.