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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Jan 10, 2018 23:36:18 GMT -5
Both women stare at you in stunned silence. For your part there is a howl of dignified laughter deep in the recesses of your mind before it is silenced with a sharp Thwack, a priest nods his approval as a Prince cringes painfully and a solider without a readable expression rubs his hand before the three return to watch things unfold. The women look at each other before Miss Hightower nods. "He certainly is interesting" She says with a small smile. "Right!?" The Duchess exclaims with a girlish giggle. She rolls back over in her chair and leans back over the arm toward you, placing her hand on your cheek and looking into your eyes with those bright glowing gems of hers "You know just how to make a woman feel special" She says in a hushed tone that sends a shiver through you. There is a moment of silence between you two. Not awkward in any sense but comfortable. Getting lost in those eyes that look directly at you with such an affectionate face. You wonder briefly to yourself if this is how a dog feels when he's called a good boy. Your thoughts interrupted by Miss Hightower clearing her throat and bringing you back down to earth. The Duchess sighs and takes that silk soft hand from your face and sits down, her dress ruffling around her. "That time, huh?" She muses to herself quietly and stands up from her chair, somewhat slumped as she fixes her hair. You watch in amazement as she makes her way back around the desk. You see her posture straighten, her girlish features melt away to once more show that dragon-like majesty as she takes her seat. No trace of the giggling girl can be seen now, only the regal Duchess and in some sense it feels like a fever dream. Which is the real her? "Miss Hightower, accompany our Scribe to investigate and confront Mr. Chess Sanviche about his skimming. I have no intention of letting such an injustice reign free in my city" She says to the elvish woman with an air of commanding. Miss Hightower places her hand on her symbol to Pelor and bows. "It shall be done, Ma'am" The Duchess nods her approval and turns to you. "I thank you for your report and hard work in my service Ezra and hope it will continue." She says to you with a queenly smile. "I can expect another expertly done report tomorrow?" She asks and when you give your answer she bids you a fond and formal farewell. On your way out you catch a glimpse of a familiar looking old man in a butler's uniform, accompanied by a girl with black horns and milk white eyes and skin in a low cut maid's uniform. The Butler seeming to be in a panic while the tiefling is the picture of serenity. Not long after on your way toward the exit a figure dressed from head to toe in plate mail blasts past you both fast enough to cause a back draft that almost tips you over. Miss Hightower sighs as she adjusts her dress, that was almost kicked out from under her. "The Lady says jump and that woman finds herself on the moon, I swear" She sighs again and beckons you to follow her. Once outside Miss Hightower takes a place at your side and asks; "So, Scribe. What is our next step?"
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Post by DM-Delfon on Jan 11, 2018 13:17:30 GMT -5
Ezra looks more reluctant to speak than ever, but manages weakly, "You are special My Lady. A beacon of light in shadowed times." Sadness creeps into his voice near the end, but the beginning is heartfelt and sincere. Ezra perks up at her praise, "Oh yes My Lady, it shall continue." A pause, as if just realizing that the social stress of this day would be repeated again tomorrow, "Tomorrow, yes." He says weakly followed by another pause. Then a single nod, "Yes My Lady, another report tomorrow." This time said strongly, with a touch of excitement.
On the way out Ezra adjusts his pace to keep Mistress Hightower blocking line of sight between the butler and Ezra. As soon as the butler leaves earshot and line of sight Ezra stops short. He reaches out as if he's going to grab Mistress Hightower's arm, but his open hand stops a few inches short of contact, and turns into a gesture to the side of the hall instead. "Why is Solstice Somerset's daughter's butler here? And was that Dove?" As the guardswoman blasts past, Ezra nods, saying "Guardswoman, so nice to see you again."
When Ezra realizes that Mistress Hightower is leading them outside, he suggests his office instead. "I'd like to discuss our options." She might also get the idea that being surrounded by books after all that socializing might make him more comfortable.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Jan 13, 2018 16:35:33 GMT -5
Miss Hightower answers your questions as she leads you back to your office. "I know not why the butler is here without his charge, nor why you can recognize such a man on sight, considering" She says as she opens the door to your office. "I assume you've heard about Dove from the servants, yes? I'll ask that you not make a scene of the tiefling, their kind have it hard enough" Miss Hightower closes the doors behind her after you enter. "Now then, do you feel sufficiently sheltered to decide your next move, Scribe?" She asks patiently.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Jan 13, 2018 23:24:36 GMT -5
Ezra takes aim at the easier question first, "I wouldn't dream of making a scene, with Dove or otherwise." Ezra says in all seriousness, "I did hear tell of her from the staff. I only asked you for confirmation so that I could put a face to a name." Ezra makes a place for Mistress Hightower at his desk, and pulls out a small package of biscuits and offers her some, "As to the butler, my business in the Somerset Isles brought me in contact with him. Much like I'm now the Duchess' scribe, I was once scribe for His Serene Highness, Prince Charles Somerset, Watcher of the Waves, Defender of the Somerset Isles." Ezra's head bobs in respect as if the man himself might notice from wherever he is now.
Circling around his desk to take a seat himself, Ezra looks confused at Mistress Hightower, "Sheltered? Of course we're sheltered. We're in the palace after all." Shaking his head, he plucks a book from the shelf and begins asking questions about every noble he can come up with. Seemingly randomly, but there is a method hidden beneath. Charles provides each name in the order he met them at the party, and the questions asked all dig into their supposed character, actual character, supposed allegiance, and actual allegiance. He asks questions about who knows who, who appears to be friends with whom, or enemies for that matter. Overall, the questions give Ezra a proper picture of the noble cast of Cliften, rather than just the snapshot he has been working from. Once he exhausts the names he gathered at the party, he moves on to the names he has heard elsewhere, and seen in paperwork. If she really does know more about the Duchess' books, and the city than anyone else. He needs that knowledge. The fact that she's been around for generations will help even more.
After about an hour, Ezra switches gears. He begins asking questions about Chess Sanviche, bringing up each function he planned that he could gather from the paperwork. All to figure out who else he may have stolen from. Once the questions cease Ezra closes his eyes, and falls silent for a good long time. Any attempt to disturb him during this time is met with an extended hand, palm out in the standard 'stop' gesture. The pieces circle above Ezra's head, threads of spiders silk connecting them. He looks at the pieces and their connections and a slow smile creeps onto his face. His eyes open and he says, "I have a plan."
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Jan 22, 2018 18:34:56 GMT -5
Miss Hightower hums to herself, adjusting her glasses as she turns to the window. "His Serene Grace Prince Charles?" She asks a not of amusement in her voice. "Another half-man, and with Emboros that makes 3 of you, you certainly keep interesting company considering how rare the union between a human and elf is" She says with her back turned onto you but you would swear you hear a smile on her lips as she says so. She turns to look at you and her face is the picture elvish grace and patients.
You receive a well recited and deep knowledge of all the children you spoke with. Most of which is rumor and hearsay, some of it is observations made by the Elvish woman herself and she says so. Many play their cards close to their hand and Clifton has long since fostered a sense of trust and kindness among the people and nobles alike however with the recent incursion of the theive's guild you see a tip in the scales. Many who had belief and trust in the system established by the Duchess' family changed and warped. Houses got broken into, things stolen, neighbors looking at each other with suspicion. Friendly rivals turned to bitter enemies. Family fighting for control in the city. The fall of one house giving rise to another. Even some from poverty suddenly gaining influence and rising through the ranks at a worrisome pace. Most of everything from the books to the hearsay seems to place the guilds at the middle of things.
Chess seems to be an anomaly in this web. One of only a handful of outsiders who'd managed to establish themselves in Clifton. But unlike the others this guy had no prior background. No one in the neighboring Kingdoms even heard of him, however he came with a sack of gold and made fast friends with all of the best caterers, entertainers and decorators in the Duchy, even finding some unknown talent that became huge hits. He's described as a cheerful sort, a worshiper of Llira if sources are to be believed and liked to bring happiness to every event. He's cemented himself very heavily in Clifton to the point that Nobles and common folk alike often said that; "Its not a party without Chess Sanviche". Weather its raves that destroy mansions or a simple gathering like the Duchess' fashion shows, Chess is often at the center of it and brings a brand of guaranteed fun to the event.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Jan 29, 2018 22:04:21 GMT -5
Ezra looks confused, "Rare? The Somerset Isles are only a week away. They are the main trading partner with Clifton. The Somerset Elves, and the Humans of Clifton are bound to intermix sometimes." He shrugs, seeming apologetic. He opens his mouth and closes it several times, maybe trying to find the words to finish his argument, or more likely trying to find a way to apologize for arguing in the first place.
Ezra listens with wrapped attention to the woman as she adds meat to the bones his books have built up for him, fleshing out the skeleton that is the city in his mind. What sort of creature is it turning into? Can he trim those claws, maybe file those teeth? The prince smiles in Ezra's mind. Curbing a guild or two is child's play compared to quelling an uprising, not that he had ever had to quell an uprising, but he was trained to do so.
When talk turns to Chess, his already wrapped focus comes to a razor's edge. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he listens intently, but finds it unfulfilling overall. Even his own fake pasts leave a better paper trail than that, he made sure of it. Paperwork in all the right places all the way back to his non-existent grandparent's birth records. Ezra nods so slowly it comes across as a bow when she finishes, "Thank-you. You really are well versed in matters related to Clifton." Sitting back, Ezra grows distant, seemingly lost in thought. Well, actually lost in thought. Planning and plotting, seeing the strings that make the players dance. After a time his focus returns, "So Mistress of Keys, shall we confront Chess straight away, or build a case against him with the other nobles first? I like the idea of being the only people that know his secret."
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Feb 6, 2018 5:51:05 GMT -5
"Yes..." Miss Hightower nods with a smile thats somewhere between knowing something you don't and most definitely buying anything your selling so no need to look any further into that.
When questioned about Chess the Elven woman looks at you curiously. "Well, under normal circumstance the proper thing to do is inform the guard and have the wonderful and just system the Duchess has set see to his treachery, however as this is a matter regarding the Duchess' black book to which no one should be privy too or even know of its existence. This and all matters regarding its pages are to be handled by the Duchess herself or the scribe she has appointed to it" She says simply and briskly. Has she gotten taller? "Further more" The elf presses on, closing the distance between you two. "The matters of those pages are of the utmost most importance to Clifton and the Lady herself and even considering handing that duty or such information to another would be treated with the same regard as Treason" The woman adjusts her glasses, the sunlight catching them and making them shine into your eyes causing her entire figure to appear as a massive overbearing shadow with glowing yellow eyes in comparison to your cartoonishly small stature. "As the fortunate truth is, Master Scribe. You are not a Scribe. You have been appointed Page Master and it is your solemn duty to ensure that all in that book is EXACTLY as the Mistress needs it for there are too many eyes and ears in this town and too few that the Duchess can trust entirely and..." She draws herself back, seeming to sink and her usual demeanor finding itself on her features as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary. "Who would suspect a lowly scribe?" She asks with a smile. Seems the Duchess had the same idea you did. If you manage to live through dealing with her Mistress of Keys that woman will be a hell of a wife. And impossible to get past.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Feb 6, 2018 14:37:27 GMT -5
Ezra seems to shrink in inverse proportion to Mistress Hightower's forceful presence, always seeming the submissive. "A- as I- I said, I like the the idea of being the only people that know his secret." His stuttered start only lends to his seeming submissiveness, "The Duchess' little black books, and the secrets they contain are safe with me I assure you." He pauses for a moment, then corrects himself, "No. I promise you." He makes uncharacteristic full eye contact then, before looking back down like a cowed dog. With all that settled, he stands, "I believe we are ready to go?" The comment comes out sounding like a question, like he's asking permission to leave. As they make their way to the door, Ezra whispers, "Page master does have a nice ring to it" It would seem like he meant to think it, but spoke aloud instead accidentally. His tone would scream pride. Walking to Master Chess Sanviche's estate, Ezra walks a half step behind the Mistress of Keys. Both to show that he's following her lead, and because he isn't supposed to know where the estate actually is located.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Feb 6, 2018 17:04:07 GMT -5
The Mistress Of Keys seems to take your submissiveness in stride, however she won't let you take a single step from her side, even grabbing your arm and pulling it against her chest, using it in a series of clever jerks and nudges to direct you through the city. Your keen sight sees smoke in the distance and Miss Hightower seems to rush you forward toward Chess' estate and when you arrive. Oh, boy! Chaos is the word of the day. From what you can tell, the house WAS a mess of vibrant and mismatched colors but as its current state is a sea of flames its hard to tell much else. The City Guard have the entire estate surrounded with crossbows at the ready. You see clerics and big muscled men in yellow coats and pants with large buckets of water on stand by. You then see a pair exit from the flames. A man and a woman. Both looking like nobles dressed to the nines. The man coming out with a dagger in each hand and the woman behind him, pulling at the Weave. The officers give their warnings to drop heir weapons but the two just smile and continue to approach them. With a shout from who you assume is in charge the bolts fly out toward the couple. A blob of something shoots from the girl and into the flaming house causing a sudden eruption of flames, propelling the two into the guards and blasting away the bolts. From there its is a mess of blades, flames and blood. The man and woman laughing and covering each other in an almost beautiful dance of dodges and attacks both magic and mundane. The guards, after losing a few of their number quickly dog pile the two and restrain them and you watch on when they both shout. "You'll Never Take Us Alive!". A glow of flames from her and the sudden appearance of a hand crossbow from him marks their end. His face becoming a mess of cinders and hers being a twisted smile with an arrow protruding from her head. Silence save for the crackle of flames from the house but even that seems somewhat deafened by what you just witnessed. After sometime you manage to find out the two were wanted outlaws who got a little too cocky, not realizing Chess had magical defenses in his shop/house or that he himself was a mage. After being pinned in place by the man and then surrounded by the Watch they opted to go out in a blaze rather than be caught. "Well, that was certainly a dozy" Chess laughs as you two approach. You can tell he's still in shock , he himself being visibly deflated but trying to stay in good spirits. "You'll have to apologize to the Duchess for me" Chess laughs. rubbing his head and looking at the flaming pyre that is his house. "It'll take me sometime to rebuild". Chess himself is a lanky man with tanned skin, a head taller than you with hair that seems to be all one massive puff of brown curls. A perm you think its called. Although a section of hair seems to favor bouncing over his forehead like a single downward hooked horn. He dresses very causally, wearing a bright yellow shirt and orange pants.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Feb 10, 2018 8:17:05 GMT -5
When the Mistress of Keys takes his arm, at first he tries to pull away, but he stops instantly as soon as she pulls his arm against her chest. For the next little while Ezra exudes embarrassment. With his arm pressed between her breasts, the frills of her clothing can no longer hide her bust. A bust that is surprisingly ample for such a slight woman. Inwardly Charles is impressed. Her clothing is tailored perfectly to conceal her form, and Charles will have to ask after her tailor when he next visits the Duchess. The embarrassment fades while Mallory uses his arm like a wagon driver uses the horse's reins. As soon as Ezra has an Understanding of the practical reason for this intimacy, he no longer has a reason to be embarrassed. As Mallory begins to move more quickly, "I assume that the estate we wish to visit is where that smoke is billowing up from?" Ezra does his best to move quickly, and once they get going it's clear that Ezra is actually fairly nimble. The Elven half of his heritage shining through.
Ezra beholds the chaos, but sees the order hidden beneath. The guards have their crossbows at the ready, so there must still be a threat within. The Pelorian Lightbringers are here to treat the wounded, and the Extinguishers Guild is obviously here for the fire. Since they haven't moved in to fight the flames, whatever threat is within must still be active. "In the stories, the male protagonists are always protecting the female characters." Ezra says by way of explanation or perhaps apology as he uses the arm pressed between her breasts to steer the Mistress of Keys out of danger and behind some cover. Ezra stands with his free fist on his hip, and his chest puffed out like the stories describe the hero. Of course Ezra is not standing behind the cover, so a stray arrow could hit him.
When the pair burst onto the scene, Embros perks up and keeps close tabs on the combat to make sure Ezra is safe. For his part Ezra looks half heroic and half like he is about to be sick as the combat unfolds. When they shout that they will not be taken alive Ezra bursts into action, pulling out his badge of office and shouting with an aura of command, "Extinguishing Hands the pile NOW!" Ezra lurches forward, trying to shake free of the Mistress of Key's grasp. If she tries to hold him, he will look back at her and simply say, "Please." Ezra moves forward to the dog pile of guards to see what is left. He couldn't stop the hand crossbow from ending the woman, but he had to know if the Extinguisher's Guild could suppress the woman's flames before they could could end the man. If the man lives, Ezra tells whoever is in charge to bring the man to the cells in the palace, rather than one of the smaller holding cells in the guard stations.
After the outlaws are dealt with, Ezra interviews the guards about what happened and asks to search through the outlaw's belongings. Before touching anything, he asks the Lightbringers if the pair had anything magical on their person. Ezra makes an overly detailed list of everything they had, right down to the number of coins and socks. The level of detail is a little much as well, noting details such as the colour, fabric material, and any stains. You would be able to pick these specific items out of a pile of similar items with ease.
With all that sorted, Ezra seeks out the Mistress of Keys. "By the Scribe of Oghma, I don't know what came over me. Apologies Mistress, but I had to act. Are you well?" He trails off then, seeming confused and maybe ashamed. To avoid having to dwell on what just happened, he quickly asks, "Can we find Chess now?" They move through the area, avoiding the Extinguisher's Guild and trying to stay out of the way. Once they reach Chess, Ezra nods to the man, "Doozy." Ezra repeats, "This situation would qualify as something outstanding or unique of its kind Master Sanviche." Gesturing to the Mistress of Keys, Ezra continues, "I believe you have met the Mistress of Keys, Mallory Hightower. My name is Ezra Quiller, Master Scribe at the palace. Is there at outbuilding, or somewhere else that we can go to talk for a while?"
Rolls: Knowledge Arcana: 13. To know about Extinguishing Hands: like burning hands, but puts fire out in a 15ft cone. Knowledge Religion: 12. For the Detect Magic.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Feb 20, 2018 10:15:31 GMT -5
The Mistress of keys, after being taken to safety gives Ezra a weighing look and his attempts to leave her grasp and enter into danger are met with a tightened grip on his arm. His pleas fall short as she smiles knowingly at him. "Many stories have a woman saving a man, you know" She smiles sweetly for a barest instant. "Leave this to the professionals" She adds, a sudden bit of dryness to her voice.
You get a fair bit of strange looks from the officials. The guards and guild members all wondering why a Scribe for the Duchess has any sort of authority here. This is quickly remedied as your arm attachment clears her throat and the faces of the perplexed men become faces of compliance. Seems the Mistress holds a fair bit of sway in the city. Your informed that if either can be saved you'll have access as needed when everything is straightened out.
"Not a problem" Chess smiles his best and leads you both to a smaller house behind the burnt building. It remains untouched by the flames and is much more homey. It would probably belong to a well off farmer rather than a man who frequents the nobles services. Save for the garish coloring. Having a myriad of different colors and shades in a variety of different shapes that seem to be randomly placed about. If this were a painting it would be masterful, however on a house it looks positively silly. The inside isn't much better, with streamers, balloons and confetti all over the walls and floor among a sea of papers and filing cabinets that seemed to have almost no discernible order (Int Check). You welcomes in and offered a chair and a fizzy beverage. "Now, what can I do for you two today?" He asks with a smile. The Mistress Of Keys turns to you and motions you to proceed.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Mar 1, 2018 7:54:19 GMT -5
Ezra spends too much time looking at all the papers, not snooping exactly but his fondness for the written word, and reluctance to engage in the social situation that is about to unfold would be clear to the Mistress of Keys, if not to Chess himself. Once settled, Ezra sniffs at his drink, getting a droplet of liquid fizzed up his nose in the process. With his nose dancing like a rabbits, Ezra sets aside the drink untouched. "Master Sanviche I have been going over the Duchess' books, and noticed some irregularities." Withdrawing a summery page, with dates and figures and handing it to Chess, Ezra continues, "Would you care to explain the discrepancies listed there?"
Rolls: Int 13+2=15 Persuasion 12+8=20
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Mar 6, 2018 11:10:24 GMT -5
You manage to sort out that the filing system has something to do with the colors but the exact pattern is perplexing without being able to see the contents of the cabinets. You note the Burgundy and Cerulean cabinets are next to each other, and everything you know about color coordination is screaming that that shouldn't be so. And seeing how Chess directed the Duchess' fashion ball, you know he's no fool on colors. Quite a conundrum.
Chess looks over the sheet with a hand on his chin and nods thoughtfully many times, humming agreement to himself as himself. Then he sets the sheets down and quite unabashedly says "I have no idea!" with a big smile on his face, looking to you and then Miss Hightower and back again several times. Strange. You could've sworn you added a little of the Prince's charisma, normally that has before throwing themselves at your feet and. Wait your not the Prince, your the lowly Scribe Ezra. Still, he should do more than just sit there and smile while claiming to have no idea. Miss Hightower looks at you with clear doubt in her eyes at his words. Something here is amiss. "Would you care to elaborate, Master Sanviche?" She asks. Chess looks at Miss Hightower with that big goofy grin. "I have no idea about these loss of funds from my origination, I am certainly no thief and will launch an investigation post-haste, but as many of resources are currently being turned into ashes, I cannot do much until my estate is restored and my old business is seen too" He says at a rapid pace that makes your head spin all whilst staying perfectly composed and never losing that damned grin.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Mar 19, 2018 21:25:26 GMT -5
Ezra smiles, nodding, "I'm afraid the investigation is already underway Master Sanviche, but don't worry. You have so much else to deal with considering the fire and all. I will be more than happy to offer you my assistance. It shouldn't take me more than a few hours to audit your books. Once I have sorted out the problem, I will present you with a summary. I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding." Ezra nods as if there is nothing else to say on the matter. Turning to the Mistress of Keys, he adds, "This extra curricular assistance will in no way affect my duties as scribe to the Duchess." Ezra mentally prepares several legal precedents which would legally obligate Master Sanviche's cooperation in this matter. Throughout this entire conversation Ezra is watching for signs of deception, wanting nothing more than to have something to hold over this man in the future.
Persuasion: 12+8=20 Intimidation: 14+6=20 K. History: 15:0=15 (precedents) Insight: 13+2=15
(I added the intimidation because if an auditor tells you that you're under investigation and they want to see your books, it can be a little nerve racking. Ezra at no point comes off as intimidating, but paper trails can be scary, especially if you're guilty.)
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Mar 24, 2018 1:04:39 GMT -5
Sweat appears almost as if by magic across the yellow-skinned man and he rubs the back on his head, fitfully. "Well, you see, I don't exactly have books, there is no real protocol or any such wordy word for my line of work, see?" He laughs nervously, his mess of curls seeming to deflate. "I know of parties. Its like, uh... sixth sense, you see? I know when and where and why and I also know what makes them best, what the in-charge type people like to see and eat and such, you see?" He laughs nervously. "I realize this comes off as strange, but I swear I am no thief and the ones I work with are good, honest folk just trying to make a living, you see?" At this point the man is breathing erratically and his eyes are darting about, from one end of the room to another. Seeming to try and find a way out. "I plan parties!" He bursts out suddenly. He seems on the point of hysterics as he goes on, His voice rapidly changing pitch. "That's all! I make people happy! I just want people to smile, thats no crime!" You and the Mistress sharing a concerning look as the nervous wreck that your sure was once a man at some point bounces in his seat. After a moment of silence he suddenly shoots up from his seat and Miss Hightower throws her arm in front of your chest protectively. "I Need Air!" Chess announces suddenly and bolts out of the room without another word or glance at either of you. The viewing window on the wooden door makes his shaggy hair very visible. He didn't run. "Well..." Miss Hightower speaks up suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts. "You certainly did a fine job at terrifying him by mentioning an audit, did you get what you wanted or was this just your human side's version of fun?" She asks more dryly than any desert you can imagine.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Mar 29, 2018 20:43:15 GMT -5
Ezra looks down at the Mistress’ hand held protectively in front of his chest. Then down to his own hands neatly clasped in his lap, seemingly unaware of any potential danger. Ezra seems confused at her question, “Fun? This is serious business, I take no pleasure in this man’s fear.” That is spoken in all earnestness, not a hint of deception in it. ”You know I didn’t get what I wanted. I asked to see his books, but he hasn’t any.” Once again, completely oblivious to the social construct that is a rhetorical question. He would also be oozing sadness and a missed opportunity at reading any kind of book. “Now if you will excuse me a moment I have a situation to salvage.” Ezra stands, and looks pleadingly down at the mistress, “Please wait here. Even if you don’t make him nervous, your presence is distracting for me.” Ezra smiles then, a quirky little smile. One all his own. Did he just flirt? Or was that unintended?
Moving to the door, Ezra creeps out and shuts it slowly behind himself, his motions seem more like he’s hiding from the mistress, rather than trying to sneak up in Ches. “Pardon me for intruding, but I want to offer my assistance once again. My goal here isn’t to entrap you, or get you into trouble. I just want to balance the books.” Ezra holds up his notes, and looks at the man, carefully weighing him with his eyes while he pulls out his writing implements, “Here, let us get started at the beginning....”
Ezra asks questions about each job he did for the Duchess. Who was involved in each aspect of the job? The questions are almost all about people and money. He wants to know who paid what, and for what. The more names he can pull from this man the better. If needed he can even name drop the Prince as a personal friend that might be in need of a party planner in the future.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Apr 23, 2018 22:24:06 GMT -5
After earning a bemused smile from the Mistress she bows her head and allows you your time.
After successfully creeping out and suddenly speaking up you manage to make the rapidly muttering man suck in his breath and draw out a high pitched squeak of surprise. With that bit done, he settles down once he realizes your (or rather Ezra's) intentions for not causing him trouble are genuine. You quickly find that this was a mistake. As it turns out the seemingly scatter brained Party Planner has an eidetic memory and recounts EVERY SINGLE DETAIL to you in rapid order. Well as orderly as a ditz. It takes a fair bit of time because as he recounts whats important, like how much he paid of food, he also notes small things, like how nice the color was or how it smelled, or how one of the caterers tripped and hit him in the face with a pie and he laughed so hard the cherry in his nose shot out and plinked off of a guards shoulder. Its certainly a test in patients and takes MUCH time to get him back on track after he drones on about how it reminded him of the time that this or that happened but you manage to narrow down the true culprit. THE BUTLER! IN THE KITCHEN! WITH THE CANDLESTICK!... Chess must've got to you with all those weird references to Gods know what. But it was Miss Rari Tilly. A decorator who's price with Chess doesn't match your books quite well and is in the exact amount that you were looking for. Almost every time. Finally! A lead! You look out on the horizon of the city and see it is almost Dusk and you feel a sudden twinge inside you. A deep calling drawing you home. You should be home. But, your so close to a culprit. But Maribel is at the Wayfarer's Rest and has been all day. Who knows how deep your uncle fingers are in Clifton. She's with Goldie though and that woman is a professional bodyguard. Maybe she's a double agent. Where did that thought come from? Your head suddenly starts to ache as a race of things come in. How you should be to Maribel and how you need to get this done quickly and effectively for the Duchess to prove yourself and get in better with her. Back and forth and back and forth. You can feel something tugging you away from this place and onto another.
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Post by DM-Delfon on May 7, 2018 17:47:09 GMT -5
Ezra asks many, many questions. Picking out details about everything, fleshing out the scenes as if he had been there himself. Even remarking at one point, "With your memory, this is like reading a book. I feel like I've actually been to the parties you describe." Ezra lets the man sidetrack the conversation a little, and asks questions about his tangents too. Most of the questions lead the conversation back to the task at hand. Most. The Prince is filing away information for later examination. Once the conversation comes to it's natural end, the scribe thanks the man, adding, "I quite enjoyed our little chat. Your stories are windows into an unknown world for me. Could we please chat again sometime, in a less official manner?"
After he finishes outside, he returns to the Mistress of Keys, "I've got what we came for Mistress." He smiles then, full of pride in a job well done. "It grows late, when we pick this up tomorrow morning, can you take me to meet one Miss Rari Tilly?" With his tasks accomplished for today, Ezra offers his elbow, "Mistress." They walk together back to the palace, before Ezra takes his leave under the pretense of going home to sleep. On the walk he answers whatever questions she has, checking his many coded notes as needed to fill in the details.
Once the Mistress of Keys is safely back at the Palace, Ezra heads toward his house. Entering one of the cities many blind spots, in this case an alley, a cloaked Bogomil exits the far side walking quickly to his favourite spot to meet his Matron. Outside the doors to the inn, Bogomil throws back his cloak and prepares to tend to his flock.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on May 8, 2018 17:41:12 GMT -5
Getting an account of a days going on from Chess is much in the same vein as reading a book. If the author of that book had the attention span of a bird and a memory like a steel trap. He even goes to the trouble to see if you understand, like when he describes a smell, he relates it to another smell and another and another until he finds one your familiar with and then relates it to that in a way you understand. He doesn't pry though, so you can just as easily nod your head and he moves on without a second thought. Listening to him talk is... Exhausting. He's very high energy and keeps that momentum to the point that it becomes almost like a pendulum. Sometimes you find yourself in an almost hypnotic trance and have to ask him to go back over somethings, which he's happy to do but there were several times when you felt all your personalities getting sucked into the world that Chess paints with his constant talk and divergence. Usually its a firm "Ahem" from Emboros or a commanding word from Charles that snaps you back. Ezra is entirely too pleased with getting drawn in and Bogomil is just happy that the young lad is. Chess is happy to have you swing by in your downtime and is also glad about it being a misunderstanding and that he can continue his business to bring happiness to others with his parties.
You walk back in to see Miss Hightower straight backed and looking at the door. Just as you left her. Is she a golem in disguise? As near as you can tell she has just sat there waiting for your return and you've been out there for several hours. She has not moved a hair that you can tell but she offers a gracious smile to Ezra and a job well done. Telling you to save the details for later. Out on the streets the Mistress Of Keys is... Um... Well... She's hanging off of you like an infatuated young girl. Arm hooked about yours as she presses her modest chest against you, head leaned on your shoulder like you were her lover, even when you meet eyes with her she stares up at you like you contain the air she needs to breath. But the oddest thing is the way she talks. She is ALL business. Getting every last detail out of you in a hushed voice as you make your way through the crowds. She's to the point and fills you on what you may have missed about Chess's speech. Including who Miss Tilly is. A fashionista and the unofficial rival of the Duchess in most terms. In the fashion circuit no one is closer to the Duchess than the self made Tailor turned Noble woman. Growing up from nothing, she gained her livelihood making unique dresses that caught the eye and stopped the masses. Where the Duchess makes dresses as a hobby and most are eye catching but also practical Rari makes threads into works of art. Including one dress that almost sparked a rebellion based on its color. Its color of all things. People could not agree what color the dress was. Miss Hightower seems especially annoyed at that fact. But she gives you lots to chew on as you drop her off at the Mansion. She gives you a peck on the cheek and a warning to be careful. Now that you work for the Duchess you will become a target. With that she gives you an uncharacteristically happy smile and bids you a good night. The Mistress herself is quite a bit to chew on as is, you think.
As you make your way to the less reputable part of town where Ezra lives, you take a dingy back alley thats packed to the brim with junk and cover and disappear from one end as Bogomil pops out the other. With a flourish of your colorful clothes you prance your way to the Wayfarer's Rest. The usual smells filling your nose and sounds fill your ear as you close in on the popular Inn. However you notice`a patch of greenery in amongst the rooftops from the corner of your eye. A deep Sage green Emboros is all too familiar with from his boat trip. Orellow Avnec sits among the tiled roofs, watching the Rest. For what you can't entirely be sure. But somehow seeing him there makes the voices in your head dissipate and your reminded that the man did well for the Prince and should receive a word of thanks. So after throwing open the doors to your adoring public you set him a hot meal and a letter outside. Time to work.
You conclude this night with smiling face and many shared drinks. Much of what you hear isn't too helpful. A mud fighting ring has opened up on the docks and a couple of the men feel tempted to go see it despite the fact that their wives would certainly disagree. Certainly a conundrum as going would make the men happy but not going would make their wives happy. A few whispering talk of Fey men and women invading Clifton. Men and women clad in Green here one second and gone the next. You can trace those to Orellow and your "wife". However you hear one oddity that sparks a certain interest. One man came to you saying he heard a woman's voice in the night. Singing certainly nothing odd there but the man claims the singing voice came from a sewer grate, maybe the ramblings of a drunk, maybe a damsel in distress?
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Post by DM-Delfon on May 9, 2018 18:24:09 GMT -5
(I totally love that each personality acts within my head as if it were it's own person. For a sane guy, he almost seems like he has multiple personality disorder.)
While walking with the Mistress hanging off of him like an infatuated girl, Ezra stammers his words, and trips over his own feet more than once. If it wasn't for her grip on his arm, he most certainly would have fallen on his face. Each time he meets those eyes, his own widen in surprise and he blushes, stammering more for a time. It would be easy for an onlooker to think him a love struck young man in over his head. Once she gets down to business, and he stops looking into her eyes it becomes easier to get the words out. Although the softness of her chest pressed into his arm is distracting, and attempting to move his arm only makes that feeling worse... or better depending on your perspective.
Bogomil holds The Grail with reverence during his closing prayer, adding "Thank you Lliira, for returning that which was lost. Your many gifts have brought this humble servant of yours great joy." to his usual closing remarks. As he says those words he looks straight at the Matron as she sits at the bar speaking quietly to Old Borris. A single tear rolling down his cheek, and a beaming smile upon his lips.
As to the rumors of the night, Bogomil sets aside thoughts of the mud wrestling ring. Such hedonistic joy can often come with a greater price in sorrow. Much better to go home and *wink* wrestle with the misses. For Orellow, he will have to get that boy a change of clothes, or at least a different cloak if he's going to be lurking around town. His wife's comings and goings he has no control over, so he leaves that line of thought unresolved for the time being too. Now a damsel in distress in the sewers is something he could look into. Depending on the damsel, that could make for another life long friend in Clifton. Maybe Bogomil will ask the hobos on the way home. Yes, that will help sort that out.
With his evening concluded, Bogomil joins Old Borris and the Matron at the bar, "I hope business is well Master Borris?" Bogomil asks, nodding at the response before adding, "The day grows long, and I begin to tire. Is your business concluded Mistress?"
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on May 9, 2018 18:51:03 GMT -5
(Me too. I love mentally disturbed Characters. *Looks at Orellow*)
Near as you can tell, you manage a great impression of a nervous school boy with his first crush.
Your bombastic closing prayer is met with a number of "awws" and a couple of the patrons stopping you to ask if your alright. The Joyous priest usually not having many tears to shed. But, a simple matter to deal with after explaining that your just so gosh darn full of joy it welled to your eyes or something of that effect.
The Homeless of Clifton are certainly few as the Duchess sees that all in her Duchy are well seen after but there are always the few stranglers and a couple that prefer to live on the streets or among the underground and they would most certainly know about goings on under the streets of Clifton.
"Hmm?" The Barkeeps says swiveling his head to meet your gaze. Seems you caught them in a very riveting conversation. Or at least Borris. The Matron seems her usual collected self "Ahh! Of course! Hear I am taking all the Matron's time with idle chatter like an old hen, yes, of course" He says, taking a cloth out to wipe his head as he bows to her and makes his way to see to the tables. "So, where will you whisk me off to now, Mr. Priest?" Maribel asks with a giggle. "Oh no you don't!" You hear another female voice chime in followed soon by a firm grip on your shoulder. You turn to see Goldie looming over you with a smile that looks like it would be better suited on a cat. A cat looking at a mouse. "Maribel's staying with me tonight, you've had her all to yourself for who knows how long and I've had my fill. She's my charge. Her protection will be in my hands" She states with seeming no room to argue.
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Post by DM-Delfon on May 10, 2018 5:25:06 GMT -5
(Unlike Orellow, my character is perfectly sane. Each of his personas are crafted to help him in some manner. He is more of an actor with a few solid characters than a crazy person.)
"Tears of joy my friend, tears of joy!" He says in response to his flocks concern. "I am simply overflowing with joy."
Bogomil turns his face up to Goldie, "Ah, but now we have a conundrum." The priest raises an eyebrow, and his smile brightens, "It is clear that we should do whatever brings the greatest joy, but what would that be?" He shrugs out of Goldie's grip, and moves around behind the Matron. "Just knowing that you're here, and safe brings me more joy than I thought possible." He begins kneading the tension out of her shoulders, "Mistress Goldie would garner much joy from your company, catching up and whatnot." Moving back around in front of Goldie, he gives one of his signature exaggerated bows, "Alas, both of us are being selfish. What does M'lady wish?" He pivots to look at the Matron. Using only his eyes so Goldie can't see, he indicates that the Matron should go with Goldie.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on May 12, 2018 15:50:35 GMT -5
(True. But, how long can you play a character before the lines between you two start to blur? Muahaha!)
The Matron putting on a girlish attitude, giggles and turns away. "Goodness, whats a woman to do with so much attention focused on her, can hardly-" She begins before the bigger woman cuts in and grabs her, scooping her up. "Dibs!" Goldie shouts and takes off upstairs. You hear the Matron's laughing protests about how Dibs is not a proper form of acquiring something you want and how unlady like Goldie is acting before her voice is drowned out by the laughter that erupts in the room. Seems the locals are used to Goldie's forward attitude, it has been a few weeks after all.
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Post by DM-Delfon on May 12, 2018 19:29:50 GMT -5
Bogomil laughs heartily as Goldie makes her way upstairs. He takes a moment to appreciate her retreating figure before making one final circuit of the room. Now having passed on the blessings of Lliira, he heads off into the night. Along the way home he seeks out the riffraff that most people try to avoid in the night. He gives a coin here, and a sandwich there to those that need it. Exchanges some juicy gossip with a group of prostitutes that are between jobs. Entertains a lonely street urchin with a few Minor Illusions. Approaches a group of street toughs that are looking to rob someone foolish enough to be out at night alone, and warns them of an approaching trio of guards. He specifically seeks out one of his homeless contacts to ask about the singing from the sewers. Bogomil wants to find out if there is any truth to the rumors he heard earlier.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on May 14, 2018 17:20:20 GMT -5
The grimey masses of Clifton are happy to see Bogomil. Their downward faces turning bright at the joyous priests bounding steps. With a flourish here, a coin there and a few choice words you leave the men and women of the distraught district with a smile and hope for better days. You manage to pick up that the local Harlot's aren't working the streets much anymore. Seems a new face is controlling the Bordello and they're offering safety and shelter. Many of the leash holders for those girls have disappeared or been recruited by the mysterious new head. Although some think its too good to be true and claim some niece's nephew's second removed cousin disappeared because of a taught word against the Bordello. The Urchin's of the city are part of a secretive network or so you've puzzled out. Few in the city will even acknowledge the children so they can move about like ghosts and often have too, unless they get scooped up by the Duchess' guard and brought to the new Orphanage for.. Shudder... A proper education. Nothing today like it once was, the Duchess seen to that, but these children want to be free to do what they like, not be dressed up and sat in front of books to become proper members of society with a Trade or Profession. Yuck. In your heart you know the Duchess would have the Prince walking lines if she knew but these kids have the choice and besides you need them, they're some of the best eyes and ears in the city. From what you manage to gather it seems a Blue Sun symbol has been cropping up as well as whispers that a new hand is playing in the city among the Theive's guilds. Very troubling. Nothing about singing though. Although the kids tend to avoid alley's where drunkards like to play. The streets toughs give you a thankful nod and make their way away from the guard's new patrol route. You are sure they'll be eyeing down a cut purse or two that gives you a wrong look, handy, if not exactly the way Bogomil would like things. Finally you come to the Channel. The many interconnecting waterways among the city making up an underground world that is out of people's feet, perfect for the homeless and downtrodden who rather their life among the half barrel, broken crate, cardboard and old blanket houses. The Beggars, Scrap Collectors and Miserables make up this underground society. Out in force during the day, picking through trash, begging for food and coin or just wandering the streets screaming about the coming of DOOM. Your sure they would greet you with a gleeful "Bogomil!" But some of their kin are sensitive to sudden and loud noises. So for company you have a friendly smile here, a cough over there and a nod of the head. "Mister Priest" Comes a hoarse voice from the shadows. A man shambles into your vision with patchwork clothing and a poorly grown beard. Its marred by scars including one over his milky white eye. His other eye is a sickly green that follows you sharply. "The Baron wishes to see you" He says and covers his mouth with his left hand as he starts a coughing fit. In his right he offers you a head-sized sack.
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Post by DM-Delfon on May 14, 2018 17:44:49 GMT -5
Bogomil is unsure if this is one of the poor souls that has lost their wits, or a representative of the leader of this band of rabble. Either way he doesn't wish to offend, but he also doesn't wish to be blind to whatever comes next. "The Baron himself wishes to see my humble person?" Bogomil offers the shambling man one of his exaggerated bows, "I will be happy to attend him at once, but I have a couple requests." He says such eyeing the sack, and suspecting that it is meant to go over his head. "The first request is of you good sir. Tomorrow, you meet me and we visit a friend of mine to see about your injuries. You've gone though the trouble of fetching me for the Baron, it is the least I can do in return. As to the second" He smiles, making somatic motions with his hands as a very opaque looking hood falls over his face, "As you can see, I've brought my own hood." (using my items to make a thick hood, that I can still see through... a little)
Deception: 13+8=21 (lie about being able to see) Persuasion: 10+8=18
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on May 19, 2018 17:34:52 GMT -5
You see the man visibly recoil at the request to see your friend and you see him slink back and stare at you horrified when you make the hood appear. "Tomorrow, then" He says and limps off, disappearing among the makeshift houses. "Hoo hoo, buddy" Laughs an elderly woman squatting near a small fire off to the side. "Youse made a mistake" She laughs again. When you inquire what mistake she looks at you with a cocked eye and grin as if to ask if your being serious. When your expression doesn't change she smiles and then sighs. "'ow many o' your noble types likes being told "No"? Hmm?" You put on your best face and explain you never said no, you just postponed the meeting. She laughs harder at that. "Boi, youse thick" She says between laughs. "Baron gots tings to do hisself, wha makes youse so great? Hmm? That youse gets ta say when youse sees him, hmm? Is youse the Prince?" She roars with laughter, falling on her side. Several of the other homeless join her, their laughs dark and ominous. For your part, you get a distinct feeling you done goofed.
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Post by DM-Delfon on May 20, 2018 10:31:03 GMT -5
Bogomil smiles at his agreement, and starts after the limping man until the woman speaks. He paused to listen, then says, “Mistakes have been made, yes. By all parties yourself included.” Gesturing toward the woman, “The first mistake that needs correction is my nobility. I have never been, nor lay any claim to such a title. I am but a humble priest that wishes to bring joy into the lives of all that I meet.” He bows then, taking the woman’s hand and pressing a single gold into it, “As to putting off the Baron? I wouldn’t dream of missing out on meeting such personage.” When he sees her confusion, he explains, “The mention of tomorrow was to have that limping fellow’s wounds tended. Perhaps you would help clear up this little misunderstanding?” He pauses, taking both her hands in his and earnestly looking into her eyes, “Please. It would bring me such joy.”
Standing, He cloaks himself in his hood once more, and asks her to lead him to the Baron or someone that can do the leading. Standing there surrounded by the homeless, Bogomil is still at his ease.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on May 21, 2018 17:23:06 GMT -5
After a time you find yourself trying to stare outside your bag, with your elven vision making pitch blackness seem like dim light and the patchy obscuring bag its almost impossible to tell where your going, a turn here a turn there, a straight away and isn't this where you were before? You could've sworn you seen that crack in the stone before? Your led about for an hour or so before your suddenly pulled to the side you hear the sound of stone grinding on stone and then you hear a voice. An older man's voice that sounds somewhere between a whisper and a groan. "Remove the bag, if you please". You remove the bag and find yourself in a cramped room. The whole thing maybe being 15x15 feet. You see wide steps before you leading up to a pile of rags and pillows and mats made to almost look like a throne. Inclining on it is a rat-faced man. No... A man-sized rat? Whatever it is, its fed very very well. It wears a coat, shirt and pants that could swallow you whole and each article struggles to contain the creature's girth. "I offer you greetings priest, on this, the day of my niece's best friend's mother's wedding, I am the Baron Under Town, you may call me... Fred"
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Post by DM-Delfon on May 21, 2018 17:43:51 GMT -5
Bogomil gives one of his fancy exaggerated bows, flourishing his cloak to exaggerate the movements. "Greetings, and well met Baron Undertown, excuse me, Fred. Though you seem to know me, I offer introductions anyway. My name is Bogomil, Joybringer of Lliira." Bogomil's bow ends in the correct courtly position befitting a priest meeting a true Baron. Where he stays until told to do otherwise. "Do you require my services to officiate at your niece's best friend's mother's wedding? Or perhaps my contacts within the city for a party planner? I happen to know just the fellow." Bogomil seems completely at his ease, even if Embros is trying to take the reins and get out of here. Prince Charles clamps down on his thoughts and let's Bogomil go with the flow, it's far to late to flee anyway. Ezra must be mentally reading a book, because nothing about this situation is within his area of expertise.
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