Part I: Boarding Vengeance

Wulfric watched the guards clamber across the lawn and he stood calmly. There was something about the property that seemed odd to the huntsman. For a successful group, they seemed unhappy and tense. The shadows were still long at that hour, and they loomed eerily from the manor's shrubbery with each ticking second his friends were in that house.

He spoke in a relaxed manner; slow and steady: "We intend to leave when our companies have spoken. I am certain that Geiss would not appreciate you taunting his business-associates."

Wulfric chuckled softly and continued "Oh, dear. I hope they aren't long... I might have to follow Midnorton's...pissing ettiquette...". He glanced to the alley, pacing back and forth as one does with a full bladder.

"Please don't mistake us for wanderers. Our company has brought an item of great value to the man you have sworn to protect. Perhaps you can see us inside along with our company? 

------

Wulfric indicates their reason for remaining on the property, explains that Geiss would not be happy if they were mistreated, and requests to be shown inside to urinate

as Ronal reiterated their aim to Wiess, showing the proper respect.

Artimus silently eyed the Man's hands, searching for the presence of a symbol, matching the one of the ring given to them with caution by Lord Braznik.

Spot

Fellowship - The 2nd of Septem - 9:00 AM


Artimus and Ronal


The hearth burned down as Geiss listened to Ronal's drawn out instructible, silence filling the air as he fulfilled his final vague request of compensation for the manifest.

Artimus' eyes scanned the trade baron's hands for a sign of the signet, but the man wore no rings or jewelry. On the wall, a crest bearing the signet of a hammer and an overflowing satchel of gold decorated the mantle.

Geiss furrowed his brow, his face betraying his anger. Undoubtedly this was a gentleman confident in his ability to bury emotion, but it seemed as if he was having difficulty restraining himself.

"This is...an inopportune time to extort me, gentlemen" he said measuredly. He brought his hands to his chin, and stared coldly into Ronal's eyes.

"If these were better times, sailor, I would have your head on a platter for spiting me. But they are not. The manifest you possess holds a great deal of value, this is true - but it is useless to me until present circumstances are dealt with."

Clearing his throat, he pulled a bottle of whisky from beneath his desk and poured himself a glass.

"I have a proposition for you, and I know you will take it, else you'll make not a red cent for that manifest. I am in need of an enterprising group of rabble, such as yourself and your mysterious band of merry men that were fortunate enough to stumble upon my trade agreements. Those agreements guarantee me business throughout the Sea of Claws for decades to come, but they are useless without that-" here, he pointed to the crest hanging above the mantlepiece.

Geiss took a deep swig of whisky, and coughed a thick swab of mucous into an embroidered handkerchief.

"That crest is a symbol of trade held in the Geiss house for three decades. The open trade agreement between Geiss company and the Marienburg Furriers Guild will not happen unless that crest finds its way into their guildhall as a binding gesture of union within the month."

"Herein lies the rub. My whore of a daughter has gone missing, and I received this letter daggered to my door this morning demanding a ransom of the crest delievered this evening in exchange for her safe return. Naturally, if the crest is taken the Furriers Guild will be outraged, and the contract will go to my opposition, The Ost Trading Company."

He said this name with venom in his voice, but Artimus scarcely noticed. The Ost Trading Company...the name felt familiar...though he could not recall why.

"I would leave the cunt to die at the hands of her ransomers - blight knows she deserves it - but the church of Magustan is my biggest supporter in this town, and the ransomers have whispered news of Cilianna's capture into the ear of the ordained priest. I have his full support-" here, he picked up another envelope - "which does me not a lick of good, because if I do not act to save her, my reputation in Sulkporte will be destroyed."

"This plot stinks of Ost, but I've no time for calculated meddling. I need Cilianna returned, or...confirmed dead through no fault of my own...and I've no intention of giving them the crest."

Geiss paused, evaluating Ronal and Artimus for a reaction.

"The ransomers want to meet me outside of town this evening. Four miles east of Sulkporte is a burned-out inn that I purchased years ago. I was instructed to come alone. Return my daughter to me, and I'll buy my manifest back for 1,000 gold, plus an additional 2,000 for the task. You'll take it, I presume?"

Geiss looked at them expectantly, swirling his whisky about in his glass. Behind them, the steward cleared his throat, and Artimus could hear the delicate sound of steel emerging from scabbard...


Garvan, Wulfric, Midnorton

The guards looked at the fellowship, replacing their weapons in their holsters.

"Working for Geiss, are you? If you've got to piss, woodsman, there's a perfectly safe alley behind you. Mind the paupers."

The guardsmen chuckled amongst one another, and spoke coldly.

"Geiss is a shrewd old bastard. I pity your employ."

With that, they started off down the cobbled street, leaving the fellowship behind.

Five minutes had passed.

=====================================

EXP:

+50 each to Wulf, Art, Midnorton

Wulfric grinned as the guardsman scoffed and stomped away. He began walking toward the Geiss manor, whistling a ballad in the dusk. As he approached the great home, his song grew louder. Birds leapt from their nests and disappeared into the dim. The woodsman listened for the voices of his companions as he reached the front door once again.

Wulfric knocked loudly and waited on the stoop. His bow felt close to his chest.

----------------------

Growing impatient, Wulfric knocks on the door and waits to be let in so he can speak with Geiss as well

Midnorton followed Wulfric to the warehouse’s door. “They might not like another group of strangers appearing after the first group. Would’ve been best for us to remain out here and let those who went in first to tell us the details later. But since you are set on entering, I feel obligated to cover your back. But please, by the Gods, don’t try anything stupid.”

He hoped things are going smoothly inside and that their appearance won’t stir things up in a bad way. To be extra careful, Midnorton made sure his weapons were properly sheathed not to cause any immediate threat to those inside.

Wulfric, “Not so hard. You are too insistent on getting any. You will appear threatening.”

Garvan let out a sigh of relief. Midnortons words were a touch more honeyed then his own gruff voice. An attempt by him to talk his way out of the situation would have been more likely to end in violence and arrest.

As the guards sauntered off Garvan suddenly recalled Artimus' hand gesture. 5 Minutes. Had it been 5 or 6? A minute would be enough time to slay two man, and perhaps flay them too. Grabbing his trident he strode towards the door with his companions. Not wanting to displease their business partners was a thought that crossed his mind as Wulfric banged upon the heavy wooden portal but his friends were inside. If they were in danger he cared not who he pissed off.

He would knock once. And only once.


==============


Garvan will wait brielfy for a response. If no one comes to the door he will enter the tradehouse in search of ronal and arty

Hmmmm" Ronal pondered. The smell of wiskey wafting by the two mens noses. Carried on the sputtering sputom of William Giess.

Artimus noted that neither Ronal of he had been offered a drink of their own, an obvious gesture of derision of their status.

Ronal was not in a position to accept of refuse the offer, but the navigator himself was not without guile.

" I'm sorry to hear about your bind mister Giess. I certainly could speak to the men that helped me on their behalf. They're capable, yes, capable of damage. that's a kind offer, yes kind. I'm sure they would be more likely to be willing to help if a sign of good faith was sent. Lets say the 1000 for the manifest cash in hand. It's a small amount we can both be sure. For a man such as you, yes no question small.

oh and of small things, what do I tell them when they ask ol' Ronal "Why does not mister Giess and all his resources need us, why us when he has so many other men" I don't want them to think Ronal is lowering a noose around their necks. they might drop me back in the ocean where they found me."

The keen slide of a blade caught Artimus' ear he spun his cloack furling like a sheet in the wind. His eyes trained for a glint of the blade that his ears gleened. His whole body taught and coiled to lunge out.

If the steward has pulled a blade, Artimus body checks him to the wall, Grips the man around the wrist and breaks his arm.



Brawling 3d6+2 = 12

Dodge 2d6 =8 [ If steward attempts to attack]

Arm Break 3d6+2 = 12



'D6' : 6, 2, 2

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#2 'D6' : 4, 4

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#3 'D6' : 2, 4, 4

The member 'Artimus' has done the following action : Diceroller

#1 'D6' : 6, 2, 2

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#2 'D6' : 4, 4

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#3 'D6' : 2, 4, 4

Fellowship - The 2nd of Septem - 9:03 AM

Midnorton, Garvan, Wulfric

The door slammed open, Garvan's figure appearing in the way as the denizens of the Geiss company spun to observe the commotion. The fisherman strode into the warehouse with Midnorton and Wulfric in tow, the roundhouse labourers warily approaching them.

Mousill, however, walked forward fearlessly to meet the new party, clambering over boxes and knocking over bundles of packing straw about him. They met halfway into the roundhouse, surrounded by looming barrels and shipping crates.

The lumbering man stared into their Garvan's eyes emptily, easily a foot taller and another man wider.

"You have to wait for the Steward." he said simply, but the three could tell that there was a note of aggression in the simple man's dialogue.


Artimus and Ronal

The mariner spun around, the glint of steel beneath the steward's cloak providing all the proof he needed.

[Brawling check vs. Steward]
[STR check vs. Arm]

Swiftly, Artimus threw his weight into the knife-bearing guardian, feeling his unbalance as the man fell backwards hard into the door. The wood bent beneath the collision, splintering the wall as the mariner found the offending arm and caught it in a vicelike grip.

The steward's eyes were wide as he gasped for air, the sudden and brutal juicy snap of a breaking arm punctuated by a shriek that could scarcely have been outdone by a stuck pig. Whether from the pain or the shock the sentry collapsed at Artimus' feet, head cracking upon the floor as his regal blue vestments balled up beneath him.

Ronal's mouth hung open as Artimus regained his composure and turned to face Geiss. Despite the brutal scene, the trade baron held a shallow expression of delight.

"Perhaps you are the men I'm looking for," he grinned, finishing his whiskey and standing upright.


Garvan, Midnorton, Wulfric

Wulfric watched the room as the dozen storehands spun round, the sound of a scream coming from the office above them. Mousill turned on his heel, his back exposed, and sprinted for the stairs. The others backed away, clearly unsure of what to do…


Artimus and Ronal

It was ten seconds before the door swung open behind them, the heavy oak colliding against the fallen steward as Mousill appeared.

Geiss waved his hand at the huge man, who had grabbed an axe along the way and looked an intimidating sight as he stood over the unconscious body.

"Hold, Mousill." Geiss' words echoed over the room.

"I've no time for any more of my employees to be incapacitated, much as I admire those willing to seize opportunity. I'm afraid the larger man with an axe behind you will be slightly more difficult to break, warrior."

Mousill wore no expression as he stared coldly at Artimus.

"I need this situation dealt with, with discretion and poise. Sending my own men would betray my familial motivations in the eyes of the church, and I am unwilling to sully my favour with the priest. I'll provide you 500 gold upfront for the manifest, and 500 upon your success. Not a copper more. Else, Mousill will escort you outside."

=====================

There are a dozen men in the warehouse where Mid, Wulf and Garvan are…though none of them look particularly interested in trifling with you, and none of them are armed.

Mousill stands blocking the doorway for Artimus and Ronal. The steward is providing no small amount of pitiful mews and moans as he whimpers upon the floor.

EXP: +75 each, for a full party post and a most entertaining segment!!!

Guys, I implore you to participate in the short story competition!! Its due by tomorrow night at midnight!

Cheers fellowship,

-A

Midnorton glanced around at those that surrounded them and spotted most of them were unarmed.

“Hoo… We are here to collect our companions that just entered here.”

With a sinister smile, he rubs the upper limb of his bow. “I hope that isn’t a problem.”

Midnorton then waited patiently for them to react or perhaps escorted to where the other two are located. While waiting, he hoped Wulfric and Garvan don’t do anything foolish for he could see that this situation didn’t need to erupt into a battle. It wouldn’t do any good to be wanted by the local authorities.

=============

Yes. Put in a thing for the writing contest, otherwise I’ll win by default. :-P

The member 'Artimus' has done the following action : Diceroller

'D6' : 2, 2, 6

Fellowship - The 2nd of Septem - 9:05 AM


Artimus and Ronal


[Artimus, Indimidate results:]

Artimus watched a hint of anger flare up in Geiss' face, his subtle grin turning into a snarl. The old burgher leaned forward slowly, spitting venomous words from his mouth as Ronal stared at Artimus incredulously.

"You think you're something, seaman? No one speaks to me that way. No one. You think the clergy will listen to you, ship-rat? I line their coffers. You dare to make threats against my empire, vermin? You have made an enemy in Sulkporte, one you will not forget. Leave my office. Now. And do not return."

With that, Geiss sat down upon his chair and turned round. Artimus felt Mousill's heavy hand upon his shoulder, the steward still twitching on the floor.

"Out, now," rumbled the giant man.


========================

Mmmm prideful move there, Artimus. Not sure how that's going to turn out for you, but regardless.

Mousill is right behind you brandishing a great axe. You are unarmed, as is Ronal. If you want to try anything, so be it, but generally speaking Mousill is going to escort you to the front door and kick you and the party out on the steps.



+50 EXP to Art and Midnorton.

The member 'Artimus' has done the following action : Diceroller

#1 'D6' : 4, 3, 5

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#2 'D6' : 2, 1, 5

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#3 'D6' : 3, 4, 1

Garvan vaulted up the steps, following the tumultuous sounds echoing from the room above him. With a firm grip around his trident he exploded through the door. As Wulfric and Midnorton followed suit, Garvan could only help but grin as he felt a certain heroism about their presence. Artimus, the damsel dancing with a mountain, now with his calvary behind him ready to follow him to hell.

"You can sure accomplish a lot in 5 minutes Arty," He strode forward, frame braced to strike the big man if he attempted to counter Artimus.

Gazing quickly about the room the fisherman noticed a quivering Ronal in the corner and a furious Geiss at his desk, struggling to shout through his hacking coughs. He looked then to Midnorton for support. If anyone could talk them out of this it would be the elf. Garvan's best attribute was his strength, and that was the tool he would use if the situation arose.


=====


Garvan is in the room for backup. He is going to let mid do the sweet talkin

Five minutes had surely passed. The sun dipped into a lower pocket of the horizon, now blood and gold colored. Wulfric leaned back and tried to gander in through one of the warehouse windows - nothing could be seen from below. Commotion in the house sparked Garvan to run up the steps behind the great warrior, but he remained still, bow in hand.

------------------

Wulfric takes a look at his surroundings, keeping his eye out for any other guardsmen, and takes position outside the house in case any guards come running out of the his. Wulfric is taking a sniper position, attempts to find cover as well (search for barrels, hay, etc.)

Midnorton heard the shouting and sound of conflict from above. As Garvan rushed up the stairs to come to the other aids, Midnorton followed as he hoped he could salvage the situation from whatever conflict had erupted.

He barged into the room and with a sudden shout, “HOLD! STOP THIS NONSENSE!”

He spied the situation and mumbled to himself. “Cease and desist. We came here to negotiate not create enemies.” He looked at everyone with earnest, “Let us settle down and talk. I’m sure we can come to an agreement. And if my companions had caused any disagreement, I will apologies on their behave.”

=================

Diplomacy
[Dice 1: 6,1,5,5,3 = 20] *Hope that is good enough.

The member 'Midnorton' has done the following action : Diceroller

'SKILL CHECK' : 6, 1, 5, 5, 3

Fellowship - The 2nd of Septem - 9:10 AM

Fellowship

Mousill's face betrayed his surprise as Artimus swung round, catching the towering man off guard as his fist crashed into his chest. Mousill stumbled backwards slightly, Artimus' trip finding no clout as Geiss' most intimidating guard stood glaring at the newly unsheathed blade.

"Very bad choice-" started Mousill, but the entry of Garvan and Midnorton stopped him in his tracks.

[Midnorton, Diplomacy]

Geiss turned round again, the honeyed words of Midnorton reaching his ears. It seemed the great trade baron's fury would not be swayed, but suddenly the rotund man's attention was diverted to the mariner, who's hood had come undone in the commotion.

"By blood and coin…" cursed the fat, old man. "You…"

Garvan and Midnorton stood, confused at the odd address given to their companion. Artimus' unmistakable blond hair spilled out from his cowl, and Geiss seemed fascinated.

"The Grey Mouser?" said Geiss, a sardonic smile spreading across his face as he leaned over his desk.

"Mousill- is it…?" Geiss pointed a finger out towards the swordsman, all threat from his errant blade drained in the momentary hint of ridicule.

Mousill let out a deep, throaty laugh. The giant dropped his axe to his side, chortling heartily.

"It is, Mr.Geiss! The Grey Mouser!"

Geiss loosed a roaring fit of laughter, clutching his sides and falling back into his chair, spilling his whiskey in the interim. But he seemed not to mind, addressing the fellowship in kind;

"Well, it's lucky for you, Mouser, that your companion here stopped Mousill from cutting your head off. Lest, we'd be through with Sulkporte's claim to fame! The Grey Mouser, in my office!" the hard, cold demeanour of Mr.Geiss had melted away, and he seemed amused at the new charge.

"Naturally, I am inclined to spread the news of my own volition. But I am a man known for taking care of business before fancy. I appreciate your gusto, Mouser, but I see you have real men-at-arms accompanying you, and you will serve for my purposes."

Geiss turned to address Midnorton, "We can come to an agreement, if only for the sake of whimsy and your acknowledgment of your own folly. I will entrust you with this task, and pay you 1000 for the manifest, and 2000 for the return of my daughter…with 500 up front." It seemed talks of business had brought his temporary boost in spirits down, and now Geiss poured himself another glass.

"You'll take it, I presume. This is an important day, and I'm certain that Sulkporte's most famous rat catcher can bring justice to this…outrage."

William Geiss rimmed his finger around his glass, staring expectantly at the party. Mousill sighed with amusement at Artimus.


============================|

Well now, this is a bit of backstory come to creep upon Artimus. Midnorton, excellent entry and move, else I'm certain that Mousill would have made short work of Mr. De Londes.

Wulfric, you are still watching the door from an alleyway opposite, armed with your bow. No one has come in or out of the warehouse.

EXP: +50 each

Midnorton placed his right hand over his heart and bowed toward Geiss. “For the ‘folly’ of our misconduct, we shall gladly accept your offer. And as I am unsure about this ‘daughter’ business,” glanced at Artimus, “I’m sure Artimus will fill the rest of us in on the specifics of our job.”

With that said, Midnorton approached Geiss for the 500 coins upfront payment and to shake his hand to formally acknowledge the deal.

Business and avoidance of crisis done, Midnorton moved to leave the office after securing the bag of coins and walked town the stairs.

Midnorton couldn’t help himself to do a little bit of mischievous action and motioned with his hand at all the working standing around. “Nothing to see here. Back to work all of you.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Midnorton walked out of the warehouse with his head held high and back straight, with confidence oozing out of his aura.

The bowman chuckled under his breath. There he kneeled, heart pounding. A wreath of sweat crowned his forehead. Yet, all that moved was a creaking weathervane and the grasses that swayed in the yard. 

Inside, the commotion of voices and steel had been stifled; Wulfric re-tied his bootstrings, picked himself up, and began to pace about the house...

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Wulfric searches the property, stables, and sheds for any goods, items, or clues that may surround the house

(phone post)

The party left the tradehouse with what could only be the taste of victory on their tongues. The sun slowly crept up the sky and the shadows over Sulkenporte began to hide away beneath the buildings. The day was still young and for that Garvan was glad.

"Well done squashbuckler!" Garvan threw an arm around his friends shoulders and pulled him in close as they walked, "Next time, I'll go with you. Wouldn't want the infamous Grey Mousser to end up as fish food." With that he let out a boisterious laugh. "You'll have to tell me all about it over some ale."

The fisherman released Artimus and glanced back to the rest of the party, "Pork and drink on me lads!"



=================


Garvan is going to suggest meeting at the tavern and discussing their plans for moving forward over drinks
(Maybe we can have a discussion in the players roundhouse and all agree on a plan for proceeding?)