Private Tales The Isabella's Treasure

[Pyxidus]

(OOC: This thread is full! Participants are Smiling One, Son Min Kyung, Ynsidia, Huang Tien, Isaias Kildare, Lectrix, and Oliver Rose)

Pyx slid a silver mark across the table. The old sailor, his face covered in soot and his breath smelling of ale, flipped the coin to check its weight and transferred it to his shirt pocket. “Aye,” he said quietly, “People go missin’ sometimes, hereabouts. Nobody important, I reckon, or at least nobody whose relatives the Council would believe. What’s a few peasants to them? Specially as they profit off the business those ships do in the city, and bribes too I daresay.”

“But we know just where she is,” Pyx argued desperately. “Surely someone on the Merchant’s Council would see reason, and order the customs agents to search the ship? They cannot simply allow their own people to be kidnapped and sold abroad, left to gods know what fate.”

The sailor laughed, loudly enough that Pyx shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well aren’ you an eager lad! Tell you wha, you might just be respectedable enough to be allowed to see the Council! Tell ‘em jus’ wha you tol’ me, and point yer prudish lil’ finger at Master Pelerion who owns tha’ ship, and see what they say. Yep, Master Pelerion, who been smuggling folk and beasts and dragon’s parts and stolen goods into and out of this city for... let’s see, near on three decades? Lining the pockets of the Merchant’s Council as he goes. How long you been in town lad, a couplea months? Ha, turn you into mincemeat pie, they would. Heresay, they’d say. Liar, they’d call you. You got nothing they wants, see, and they’ve nothing to gain by listening. Thas’ wha’ this city’s about. If you got nothin’ to give, best keep yer head down and outta trouble.” He nodded sagely, taking a swig of ale and seeming to enjoy looking down on Pyx with a superior gleam in his eye.

Pyx endeavored not to grow frustrated, and considered their options frantically. “Then if the Council is of no use, surely other merchants in the city have taken such matters into their own hands. Do these smugglers have any enemies we might ally ourselves with?”

“Ha! Smart lad, you are!” exclaimed the sailor. “A’course they’ve enemies aplenty, most especially other smugglers, or merchants they’ve stolen from over the years. Except they’re smart too, see, Pelerion and his lot. They’ve got enough clout ‘round here that you won’t find nobody local who’ll cross them, not for one little girl.”

“I see,” Pyx said sternly. He fought down his temper, which had slowly risen to the surface. How could a city of such diversity, prosperity, and magnificence fail so completely at protecting its people? “Well then, have you any other advice to earn your silver?”

“Oh, I’m full of advice, I is,” he said with a grin. “And I’ve special advice for you, sir, as you’ve been so generous. A fine budding merchant such as yerself must surely be in need of a worthy endeavor in which to invest his hard-eared funds. Now I happen to know a bloke offering high returns on a shipment of goods heading west to Elbion...”

“I think I’ll take your first advice and stay out of trouble,” Pyx said with distaste, cutting him off. He stood, followed shortly by his comrades, and left the dilapidated dockside tavern with a disappointed air. Not to be dissuaded, he clapped the Vela’s deck officer, Darius, who was also the missing girl’s father, on the shoulder for encouragement. “Well, at least we learned something,” he said, doing his best to keep the crew’s morale high. “No-one local is likely to help us. Let’s put the word out quietly among some of the foreigners coming through the port, and see if anyone might be willing to help out a good cause. Worst case, if we don’t get her out before they sail, we’ll follow the Isabella to her destination and buy the girl back at auction.” Of course, they had precious little funds to do so, the majority of Pyx’s assets having been invested in the Vela’s cargo.

Thus it was that Pyx and a handful of the Vela’s crew spent the afternoon walking the Allerian docks, quietly whispering their need in a few trusted ears, and careful not to disclose too many details about their plan to rob the Isabella of one of her captives. They regrouped in the evening at a more respectable inn, where they had claimed a small private dining room in the back that they might speak discretely with any mercenaries who came to ask about the job. Dinner was ordered, and they awaited any guests who might arrive.

 

[Isaias Kildare]

Isaias Kildare was in between jobs in Alliria and decided to see what kind of trouble was brewing near the docks. There was always some form of theft or assault going on that required outside interference. But before he got far into the district he was approached by a man who invited him to a specific Inn for a job. Seemed trouble had a way of finding him first. Fe details were given, as expected, but he had little to lose by going to the Inn and hearing out the client.

Thus Isaias appeared at the inn described and found the private room where he was to meet the client. When he entered the room dinner was already set. He looked around and saw several men were present, but not all of them seemed like mercenaries, and the wealthy one looked like a merchant.
He pulled back his hood and placed his fist on his chest.
"I am the Juggernaut, Isaias Kildare. I was told of a reward for one who can pull off a difficult job for a good cause."

His voice was strong and well used to command. He had the look about him of a veteran soldier, for one did not live long enough to get grey hair in his profession by being weak.

 

[Lectrix]

Lectrix was perched on a rooftop across the way from the inn the invitation told him to be. The evening wind was warm, brushing across his dark brown hair. A perfect day to catch the ones that got away.

He had been finishing eliminating a target, a merchant notorious for scamming the residents of the waterfront with high payments and violent threats, when he received a strange invitation for a job on the docks. The job, although not very specific, had one thing that caught his eye. A group of smugglers, mostly centered in Elbion, but kidnappers of Allirian woman. Lectrix made attempts to hunt these smugglers down, but every single one failed, with the breadcrumbs the group left behind leading to more questions than answers.

He saw this as an opportunity. He didn't care about the money. He wanted to catch these guys. No matter what.

He eyed the room through an exposed window, eyeing a few people, including someone who seemed like a merchant, and another huge man who looked to have just entered. A mercenary. he thought. It looked like a crew, so from what he saw, it seemed legit.

With a sense of purpose and a itch for vengeance, he pulled up his hood and put on his mask on.

He climbed off his perch and made his way down the building toward the inn. After entering the building, he found his way toward a reserved dinner area that was apparently set up for them.

He entered the room, looking around confirm what he had seen in recon.

He took the closest seat, next to the mercenary (Isaias Kildare) he had seen before.

"Oi, you hear for the job as well, mate?" He asked.

 

[Oliver Rose]

"Rysa, the sun is starting to set."

The elvish woman sighed and nodded at her apprentice, a short human boy, while wrapping her cloak tighter around her. The two of them had one task for the day: obtain the new shipment of fruits from Elbion. She couldn't grow such things herself and running her own inn in the inner city left her no time to learn.

"You're right," she told her apprentice, "Have we checked everything off?"

Some of the sailors were still unloading boxes from the ship. Rysa thought the process was a simple one. She'd done it hundreds of times. Yet every time it seemed to become more complicated.

"Silvan, take this and check the right half of the shipment," she said, handing him a paper with her order printed in fine font.

The boy was quick to obey as he eagerly took the paper from her hand. Rysa smiled at him, "You're growing into a fine man, Silvan." She unhooked her cloak and fastened it around his shoulders, "It's starting to get a bit cold, isn't it?"

Silvan nodded at her and turned to do his job. Rysa faced her half of the boxes to do the same, but not before a man bumped into her quite harshly. She scoffed, falling back a few steps before meeting the man's eyes. He closed the distance between them and as Rysa pondered sending a punch to his jaw, he whispered something in her ear.

Something about a stolen girl and an inn. The man pulled them apart and Rysa stared into his eyes.

"What?" she responded.

She had never seen the man in her life. He looked to be a sailor or a merchant or something in between. He'd never stepped into her inn, she would have remembered his face. He simply gave her a nod and went on his way.

Rysa hadn't seen a good adventure in quite some time, so thought on the idea of joining a mysterious group of people who could kill her in an alley to find some unimportant girl. She looked back at Silvan. She knew he could run the inn on his own for a few nights. He'd done it before. So she decided quite hastily that she would show up at this inn the man had detailed.

She and Silvan finished doing inventory quickly and Rysa pulled him aside as some of the sailor helped load the boxes onto carts, "I need you to run the inn for a while."

Silvan looked surprised, "Okay?" He was puzzled, "This is sudden."

"Is it really that strange for me to spring this on you out of the blue?"

"I guess not," he chuckled, "I remember last time you went off to the Spine and nearly got killed,"

"At least I came back with a good story!" she smiled.

"Just try not to get killed."

Rysa gave the boy a pat on the back and parted ways with him. The inn was only a short walk away, she discovered, when she came upon the wooden doors. It was a nice inn, but Rysa's innkeeper blood was already judging every aspect of it. The sign was slightly crooked, and not in the way that gave the place personality. When she entered, the tables by the bar were placed semi-sporadically and not all the unoccupied chairs were tucked in.

Trying to ignore the differences between the her inn and the one she resided in now, Rysa payed for a room and asked about the supposed gathering. The innkeeper led her to a private room. In the middle of the room, there was a long table with dinner already prepared on it. The smell of pork and cheese and fresh bread and fruit filled the air and Rysa couldn't help but smile. It had been a long day and she hadn't had anything to eat since the morning before leaving for the ports.

There were two other men already seated at the table, engaged in conversation. One was a ridiculously tall man with shoulder length brown hair while the other was clothed in a long, dark coat. The innkeeper left her side after her observation and the elf hesitantly strode toward the table, taking a seat next to the tall man.

"I suppose you've both heard about the stolen girl?"

 

[Lectrix]

"That's probably the first time I've heard a kidnapping victim referred to as being stolen, but I suppose I have lass."

Lectrix chuckled at his own response to the stranger that had just sat in the seat next to the other man at the table. The elf woman was quite pale, with flushed cheeks and colorful clothing.

Not exactly the clothes of a mercenary he thought to himself, his eyes widening in realization.

He instantly realized the mood he had set with his comment and where he was, and if he wasn't wearing a mask, the others would've probably seen his embarrassed face. He quickly shook the feeling off, remembering he was in the Ghost's suit.

He cleared his throat. Afterwards, he looked towards the woman who sat at his table.

"Yeah, we've heard of her. She's the reason we're all hear. Those rat bastards took her and others like her."

The thought of those poor girls in the hands of their kidnappers brought nothing but rage. A visible fire pierced through his shimmering grey eyes, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. Again, he realized where he was and dimmed down his anger.

"What's your name lass? You don't look like a mercenary to me."

 

[Isaias Kildare]

It wasn't long after he sat down when he was joined by a man in dark clothing and a mask, clearly a rogue of some kind. Isaias began a silent accession of his capabilities, judging from visible mannerisms and features to determine what kind of person this man was. Definitely skilled with a blade judging by visible callouses, and accomplished enough to be able to afford the tattoo on his hand, barely visible under his sleeve. But the fact that he had never heard of him around any of the guilds or among any other group told him that this man was an entrepreneur, working for himself to provide for his own needs, though that was a very generalized assumption open for further scrutiny and evaluation.

Next an elf entered the room, also present for the job as she took a seat on the other side of his. He always found elves harder to read as their features never seem to harden or maintain signs of wear and tear over time and they hide their thoughts well. But from what he could tell, and actually from what he knew, she worked at or owned a tavern not overly far from here. He remembered seeing her before as he's been in and out of Alliria for quite a long time over his career as an adventurer, mercenary, and soldier.

When the dark robed man and the elf addressed him he nodded, "Seems the only reason for anyone to be in this private room. It's fair to assume all present have been drawn here by the word spread by these men." He indicated the sailors present in the room with the merchant... The merchant who has yet to speak a single word to those who answered his call.
When Isaias spoke his voice was deep and reflected his age, but there was no feebleness or weakness that one would expect in the voice of a man his age. It was still the voice that commanded men and calmed wild animals that he had as a youth.

Isaias sat stoically, his back straight and his hands resting on his thighs as his eyes passively met the eyes of the merchant, not in a threatening or examining way, but in a patient and understanding gaze as he waited for the details they all no doubt heard to be expounded on.

 

[Pyxidus]

(OOC: Anyone late to join can assume their character stepped in the room prior to this post, if you like!)

Pyx paced the room nervously, his thoughts prematurely focused on the rescue—scenarios, problems to be solved, and likely consequences—though he lacked sufficient information to even formulate a plan. He kept returning to the key obstacle whereby they lacked any element of force; though he had no wish to harm anyone, it would be foolish to raid the ship without some protection or contingency of strength. Unknowingly, his anxiety was disrupting the energy in the room, and several of his companions were eying him askance, disconcerted.

Darius, the missing girl’s father, sat apart from the others in a corner, looking harried and desolate. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and he did not eat or drink, instead staring at an unremarkable spot on the floor. A few other sailors were present, including one younger boy, and most sat at the table and partook of the food and drink that had been set. One was an older woman, perhaps in her fifties, with wrinkles at the corners of her bright green eyes and loosely braided silver hair. She sat facing the door with her back to the wall, meeting the eyes of all who entered as if to appraise their character with a glance into their soul. She had a healthy girth and was neatly attired with a sailor’s shirt and trousers, tall boots, and a short knife at her belt. Her only concessions to femininity were a pair of earrings and a silver bangle on her wrist. “Sit down, Master Pyx,” she scolded in a deep, assertive voice, “ere you wear a hole in the innkeep’s floor.”

The woman’s presence was imposing, though she looked upon Pyx with a keen fondness, and Pyx wrestled his focus back to the present and consented to sit at the table to greet their guests. He nodded to each as they entered, inviting them to sit or stand, as they wished. Most were human men, though one was an elf and a woman, and Pyx offered her his hand and a polite bow in greeting. At least several of the guests were armed, and one was a man so large that he dwarfed even Pyx in height and seemed to barely fit through the door. Pyx swallowed nervously, but the elder woman beside him kept her composure.

When it seemed that all who would come were assembled, and the room’s conversation had settled in a momentary lull, Pyx cleared his throat and stood, taking a swallow of wine to wet his throat. “Th- thank you all for coming,” he said, his voice stuttering slightly in his nervousness. “My name is Pyxidus, or Pyx to most, and I’m new to Alleria. I’ve recently invested in a ship and goods to trade abroad. This is some of our crew - Captain Auriga,” he indicated the silver-haired woman, and one-by-one named the others, including Darius and the young boy, Mikael. “Our crew was readying to depart when our cook’s assistant and Darius’s daughter, Mae, went missing on her way back from the market. We looked for her and found not a trace, but, well, eventually we learned where she was-”

“What he means is, he found her,” Auriga interrupted with a proud grin. “Come now, Master Pyx, and tell them how you did it. Modesty is unbecoming in a youth.”

Pyx blushed, and took another swallow of wine. “Yes, well, it’s true I suppose, I did find her. I have some magical ability, particularly keen at locating things, even people. Darius gave me some of the girl’s possessions, and I followed their... connection, you might say, to their owner. It led to the belly of a large freighter, docked not far from here. Some inquiry determined that the Allerian merchant Master Pelerion, a notorious smuggler, owns the ship and her cargo.” Pyx paused a moment while the information settled in the minds of his audience, for if any were locals they would surely have heard of Master Pelerion.

“Our trouble is, Pelerion is so well-connected in the city that we cannot ask for help through proper channels. He seems to have bribed or threatened anyone with the power to investigate or stop what he’s doing, and Mae isn’t known to anyone in the city who would speak on her behalf. We assume he may have others imprisoned in the ship as well. We hoped by asking around at the docks that we might find some sellswords who are less connected locally and might be willing to help.”

He looked around the room in earnest, intending to emphasize the importance of his message. “What we ask carries much risk. The smugglers we plan to retrieve the girl from are influential, and not without resources. Further, we have precious little coin to spare between us to divide between you, most of our funds being invested in goods, though we can offer our gratitude and a ride across the strait to whatever destination suits you. Anyone not amenable to these circumstances is welcome to depart with no honor lost.” That last statement had been Auriga’s addition, of course. “Know that if we cannot get the support we need to raid the ship, we plan to follow the vessel to Epressa and buy the girl back when they sell her at auction. So she is unlikely to be lost altogether.” He paused again, giving all several moments to consider.

“But, if you would stay and help us,” he continued, “We would have you describe your skills for us here, that we might formulate a plan that takes advantage of our strengths. What say you?”

(OOC: Please do your best to have your character relay their strengths and skills to Pyx. Also feel free to strike up a conversation with Pyx or the others and ask questions. This scene will continue for another 1-2 rounds).

 

[Oliver Rose]

Rysa swallowed. There was too much information being shoved at her all at once. She would have to just fake it and play along. The man, Pyx, had asked to know her skills. That much she could do.

The elven woman stood up and smoothed out her skirt, "My name is Rysa. I'm from the inner city where I run an inn called The Elven Arrow. Because of that I do have extensive business skills and I know how to talk to people. I can persuade and intimidate if need be."

She felt anxious under surveillance of a crowd of people physically stronger than her, but she maintained a confident posture and continued.

"I'm not a particularly skilled fighter, but I can use a bow. I also know magic, but I haven't engaged in it in half a lifetime. I'm sure it can't be all that bad though."

Truth be told, Rysa was scared of her magical abilities. She hadn't used them in a while because she feared that some forgotten memory of her past lost to her amnesia had something to do with magic. She would wake every other night in a fit due to a nightmare where a man in a black robe burned under her magic. Rysa would tear him apart every night and watch as she ripped him apart, limb from limb. Something about that lost memory made her want to keep it in the past. Same goes for her magic. But for this stolen girl, she would use it if that's what it came to.

 

[Lectrix]

Lectrix listened to Pyx, the man who had set this event in motion. He seemed nervous, as if this was his first time addressing people who could undoubtedly kill him and everyone in the room. But, he looked like he knew what he was doing, and his plan seemed to be tight knit and fool proof, yet his life as an outlaw taught him that he would need to come up with a few contingency plans. After all, a girl's life was on the line, hell maybe even more. One word sent shivers down Lectrix's spine however.

Ship...

Lectrix operated solely on solid ground, and he had mistakenly assumed naturally that this would be a land operation or a land mission. But, with water involved, the situation became a lot more complicated, because Lectrix never learned how to swim, tread, or even doggy paddle.

Shaking off the thought, he listened to the newly arrived elven woman's introduction. Magic and persuasion, it sounded similar to someone he had encountered years prior, but he dismissed the idea as coincidence. This Rysa seemed out of her element, but Lectrix knew never to doubt someone by appearance.

After she finished, he cleared his throat and stood up.

"Well, I can't really tell you my name, but you can call me Ghost."

He looked around the room, his gaze starting at the captain and working its way to the people standing beside him. A few starred at him intently, and he could understand why. It's hard to trust a man with a hidden face under an alias like Ghost.

"As for my abilities, I'm an ex-thief, an accomplished on at that. You need some sneak or somewhere broken into, mate, then I'm you man. I'm a well off fighter as well. You've got my sword, my bracer, and my skills."

He looked around once more, then sat down, content at his introduction, nodding his head at Pyx.

 

[Isaias Kildare]

Isaias nodded and listened respectably to the merchant, and then to each of the introductions of his companions. He respected a man who hid his identity, though trusting a man like that would seem to some as a risk, he saw it as a trump card. The mysterious stranger was one he learned could be counted on to pull something out of his hat at the last second to save everyone in a tight spot.
And the elf was nothing to scoff at too. A magic user who used a bow, though she admitted her arm with a bow was currently more reliable than her magic.
With these details in mind he was already forming strategies that made use of all of the skills stated.

Then it seemed his turn, so he stood up as the others did, his height putting him fairly close to the ceiling.
"I am Isaias Kildare. Also called The Juggernaut. I captained for the mercenary Band of the Juggernaut and also hold a mithril rank in the Adventurers Guild."
He said none of this presumptuously. These were facts that would describe his skills to his companions. And the title, "The Juggernaut" was given to him by the Guild and some who were well connected with the guild may recognize that title and have further knowledge of what he can offer.
"I am skilled with a sword and shield, and I too can wield a bow proficiently. I can battle standing up or kill with stealth, but my strengths lay in facing the enemy head on."
His statement of his ability to kill with stealth was to say he would not be a burden to any who preferred a stealthy approach.

The only lie in his statement was the role he held with the Band Of The Juggernaut. He was no captain, but the leader.

He sat back down. His mind still working on ways to take advantage of all their skills effectively.