The Temple of Akanksha: Kyran looks over at Drakar, waiting for the wiser and more experienced of the two to respond. Drakar nods courteously to the priestess. "We are here on the behalf of one of your sisters, Menaria, from the temple in Caer Zitheral. We are assisting her in capturing the killer of the high priestess of the temple to Akanksha in Caer Zitheral and tracking an artifact stolen from the temple in Marach and have reason to believe that the culprit of both may be an illithid who is coming here. Menaria has gone on to Marach to investigate the original theft, and we have come to prevent the taking of more lives by this illithid. Do you have any information that might help us, sister?" The priestess thinks for a moment. "I had heard rumors of an illithid running around town. Some worry that the noblemen have been influenced by it, but there's been no overt changes that I'm aware of in their policy. Other than that, I have nothing." Both Drakar and Kyran sense that she's not telling the entire truth. She seems rather unconcerned about the presence of an illithid in the city. Kyran pipes up. "I'm sorry, but are you sure you know nothing on it? We are hear to help, that we are, and any changes in policy could be very important in this endevour." He looks over to Drakar to confirm his suspicions on the lady. "I know nothing more, I can assure you." Drakar growls, standing up and knocking the chair away. He places both large hands palm down on the desk and his voice drops to a tightly controlled flat whisper as he leans close to the priestess. "People are dying, and YOU are not telling us the whole truth. I will see the head of your order NOW. If you will not take us to see her, then I will track her down myself." The cold set to his eyes leaves no doubt that the half-orc would go through anything in his way. Kyran looks over at Drakar in mock-surprise, then back at the lady. "I... I really thing you should tell him what you know, that I do. Or at least do what he asks. The last person who didn't listen, um... is having problems with tying knots." She stiffens up a bit, clearly not used to dealing with brutish half-orcs. "In all my years serving the goddess I have *never* been spoken to as crudely as you, nor has *any* of our Order been accused of lying--especially about so serious a matter. I seriously wonder if you're in the league with this mind flayer you speak of. Leave now, or else." There is a definite fire in her eyes that's unmistakable. Drakar leans back and a...grin actually lights up his face. "Write to your Orders in Caer Zitheral and Marach. Sister Menaria is on her way to Marach now and I will get you a letter from her to give truth to my words, but mark me. We will not fail to track down the killer of the high priestess in Caer Zetheral and the thieves from the temple in Marach. If you continue to withhold information from us when next we meet, the consequences will be dire." Drakar turns and storms out of the room, but slows once he leaves sight of the priestess's office to see how Kyran handles the aftermath of his tirade. Kyran frowns as his companion 'wanders' off. "I am sorry about that. He can be... rude? at times. We are really only trying to help, and I do feel you have something that you do not wish to tell us." He sniffs the air, almost sounding wounded by her words. "I have to wonder, that I do, who is the one at fault here, as well as I am offended that you would suggest that I were in legue with such an abomination as a Flayer..." Looking cautiously at the High Priestess, he continues. "Perhaps you should speak of what you know more freely, for you are in your Godess's house, and you should not have anything to fear in it, that you should not." She seems to falter slightly. "I ... cannot. Please leave." Kyran nods, and starts to walk out, stopping a couple steps from the door. "May I explore the premises of the temple then?" She sighs. "If it will make you and your uncle feel better, go right ahead. All we ask is that you don't disturb any of the sisters who are either sleeping or performing rites." Kyran looks back at her surprised. "Thank you very much. But... What made you think that that man is my uncle, for it is not true. I am no more related to him than you are to me." She mumbles an apology, ushering Kyran out the door. Kyran is ushered out of the door. After she leaves him to his own devices, he seeks Drakar out unerringly, surprised to see he hasn't left the area yet. "We may investigate the premise, but be very careful not to disturb any of the other priestesses that are, um... doing their duties." He rubs his head and smiles sheepishly. "I am going to search for any scent of our quary, unless you object?" Drakar softly questions the young ranger before he goes off to do his search. "Did the priestess say anything of note after I left?" He seems completely calm and in control now. Kyran imitates the soft talking, going even softer than Drakar. "She thought that you were my uncle for some inexplicable reason. Perhaps there is something of note with that. As well, she literally could not tell more... There is clearly more here than meets the eye, that there is." "But she made no move at all to bar you from searching here. Interesting." The half-orc stands a moment in thought. "Whatever it is that she cannot tell us won't be found here. And she mentioned that for all she knew we could be in league with the mind flayer I mentioned. She IS hiding something but I do not believe it has anything to do with the mind flayer you are tracking Kyran." "Also she said no 'overt' changes in the policies of the town leaders. Mayhaps subtle changes? And she believes that those changes are unrealated to a mind flayer. If she is unconcerned about an illithid it can only be because there is some more credible threat than a mind flayer. Check for your mind flayer, though I do not think you will find it here. I will consult with the spirits of this temple." Kyran shrugs. "Perhaps. I may discover something else, as well. I... I shall find you when I am satisfied searching, that I will." With that, Drakar seeks out a quiet spot to meditate and contact the spirits for local information. As Drakar walks off, Kyran goes about his searching, trying not to look too conspicuous in the process. He's noticably careful to avoid opening doors when people are obviously inside. Drakar finds an unoccupied meditation room, closes the door, and sits on the provided carpet. He watches the spirits swirl around him, formless shapes of energy. One forms into a coherent shape: in keeping with its surroundings, it takes the form of a pink wax male replica of the male organ with wings added on. It hovers there in mid-air, visible only to Drakar. "There is much unseen in this temple," it states, "much that needs to be corrected. The basement has the keyhole, you need to find the key." Drakar rises from his meditation, scowling at the perversity of the spirits' forms in the temple of Akanksha and tracks down Kyran. Once found, he returns to the Inn with Kyran to discuss his findings iwith the others and to see if the others found anything. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Wizard's Guild: Katrina sends a mental probe to Ananzi as Segev talks, asking for an update. Ananzi sends back a feeling of confusion; the smell of her mentor's killer is strong in the city, but he cannot follow any scent trail without it crossing over another trail. He also reports that Paia has flown off in search of a meal. The black-robed mage approaches on silent feet, pulling gently on Katrina's arm to indicate she should stay with him. "We are seeking information. Who is Master of Whispers here?" he asks in his own dry near-whisper, using a term that is in some places an actual title, and others merely a mage-guild colloquialism for "the most knowledgeable wizard about goings-on in town." "Wait here." The woman disappears, and a few minutes later the lower door opens. Out steps the most rotund gnome Segev and Katrina had ever seen... Well, he would be stepping if he ever got off the carpet that floated a foot off the ground. "Seeking information?" he asks. "Of course you are. I am Riggil Gamnatnik, Keeper of Secrets for this fine abode. And you are Segev Stormlord and Katrina Raynard, yes? You're seeking information... come into my office." He leads them back into the offices, and into a corner office. The office is laid out with many spent magical items, including three dozen grey ioun stones of different shapes glued to the wall and fifteen wands sticking out of a candelabra on the desk. He floats over and hovers above the desk, now sitting eye-level with the chairs he motions Seg and Kat into. "Now, good people, what can I do for you?" Segev smiles with cold amusement. "You are obviously quite skilled, to already know who we are. You probably, therefore, know why we are here. I do hate guessing games, so kindly share with us what information you have doubtless already decided you will." "Oh, don't worry about head games. You're on the trail of a killer, which you mistakenly believe to be an illithid. Oh, don't get me wrong, the illithid hunts for the same artifact you're after, but the killer you seek isn't him. There are fouler creatures in the world than mere flayers." He chuckles slightly. "Now, I am not able to discern the exact location of your current quarry, but I can tell you this: Under the city lies a series of catacombs, what used to be the ancient city upon which this one was built. Hunt on the fifth level, and the killer will be revealed." The black-robed mage inclines his head politely. "Thank you, sir. If you should hear anything further about the artifact we seek, I would appreciate your sharing it. As to the illithid you say is not the killer: can you tell us anything more of it, and its purpose?" "There is much that I cannot tell you," he says. "For instance, I cannot tell you that your party already possesses part of the spear you seek. And I cannot tell you that the illithid resides in the old city. And I cannot tell you that many of the town officials are under the flayer's sway. If I was to tell you these things, many would suffer. So I cannot tell you." He gives the pair of wizards a gnoming wink. "That is all that I can and cannot tell you for now." "A pity you cannot tell us such things. They are surly fascinating to know. I thank you for what information you gave us, and cannot thank you for information you could not tell." The necromancer smiles coolly. "I'm sure that, if there is ever assistance we can...or cannot...provide for you, you will know where to find us. Or not know, as best suits your purposes. Unless you have further business with us, or Katrina has something to add, I believe we shall be on our way," he concludes, turning to leave. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tavern-Hopping: Korg flashes a toothy grin at some of the Dwarves mocking Ruathor, not bothering to comment on the bodyguard remarks. He strides up to the bar and pulls out a stool, casually doing so in a manner that his greatsword is free at all points in the operation... just one of those little things that don't look special to the uninitiated but mark someone who knows what they're doing to others of the same kind. "Barkeep, a pint of porter if you have anything decent," Korg rumbles, deciding to get that out of the way first. He'll try the dark ale before asking for information, reasoning that a place that has crappy beer isn't worth his time to seek information. The mug that slides across the bar smells like a decent brew, and the taste is quite good, if a bit strong. Not quite as strong as the brews the Northern Raider Clans make, but definitely a good brew nonetheless. A pair of drunken hobgoblins approach where Ruathor is seated. One grunts in a gutteral language; the other translates. "He doesn't like you." In the corner of the bar, a well-dressed gnome witnesses the elf-abuse. Off in the corner, said gnome reaches out from beneath his plain black cloak with one bare hand, revealing beneath a startlingly bright outfit done in blue and yellow beneath. He hops down off the barstool, revealing that he's quite a bit taller than even your taller gnomes, then raises his hand to the strange raised collar on his cloak and fastens it, neatly hiding his mouth and nose without obstructing his vision in the least. His long black hair spills down the back of his head over the back of the collar, coming down just past his shoulders, and overlong bangs nearly obstruct a small symbol of some sort mounted on a band across his forehead. Taking the hand in question back under his cloak for a moment, he flips a bright coin up onto the bar for the bartender, then proceeds down the bar, obviously making his way out of the tavern. Just as he's passing Korg, though, he stops for a moment and speaks, his words focused neatly upward by the raised collar, saying just loudly enough to be heard, "If you're the hunting sort, I've a mind to hunt a rare game soon. Though first you may want to save your pointy-eared companion." Up to this point, Ruathor has pointedly ignored the hobgoblins, which is starting to enrage them. Korg blinks for a second at the gnome's comment before replying. "If it's theright sort of game, I might be interested," he remarks almost thoughtfully. "But like you said, the elf first." With that he finishes his ale and slaps a gold onto the bar with a muttered "for the damages" and strides over towards Ruathor. "An' I don't think I like either of you feckin' gobs," he comments to the hobgoblins. "The stench is awful. Shove off." Alfred narrows his eyes as he watches the human's handling of the hobgoblins, all his concentration focused on the relatively small group of four that will probably be brawling in short order. "Perhaps he's a tad too... agressive. Well, at least this will be a fun demonstration," he muses to himself as he leans against the bar to watch. "You the elf's bodyguard?" the one speaking Caere asks. "If not, get lost. If so, get lost anyways!" Korg chuckles darkly. "Or what, gobbos? Oh, nevermind... I can see how you'd be *afraid* to tangle with both of you against more than one. Piss off; I've no business with a pair that took all day drinking enough courage to even double up on someone." "Not us you gotta worry 'bout big boy." The hobgoblin on the left chuckles, "It's 'im." He gestures over his right shoulder at the BIGGEST bugbear Korg's ever seen, drinking at a table against the wall. Korg snorts. "Typical gobs. Big talkers when you can hide behind someone else." He pointedly turns away from the morons and gestures at the barkeep for another pint, body language saying quite clearly that they're not even worth the time of arguing into a fight and then pummeling. "Don't you dare turn your back when I'm talking!" the one states, grabbing a metal tankard from a nearby table and bringing it down on the back of Korg's head. Korg doesn't even flinch from the blow, instead turning around slowly. "Looks like it's time to teach you a lesson," he states. Ruathor stands up, standing near Korg. The four trade blows back and forth (gonna dispense with the play by play for now). After Ruathor drops unconscious, Korg grabs one of the hobgoblins, and tosses him into his comrade, knocking both out. He then tries to get Ruathor to wake up, as the city guard arrive. Korg, Ruathor, and the hobgoblins are then given healing from the guard's clerics, before being taken to the local gaol to sit the night for brawling. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Inn: Segev and Katrina return to the inn to await the arrival of the others. Segev, himself, retreats to his room, and begins setting it up as a workspace, though he's not going to be able to get any real work done today. He rejoins everyone when the others return to share their findings. Drakar returns with Kyran shortly after Segev and Katrina. It only being a little into the afternoon, he sits down with the two mages to discuss the findings of the day. "Katrina, did you and Segev," Drakar spots Segev coming down the landing from his room. He waits for Segev to get there while Kyran gets some lunch for the four of them from the landlord. Once everyone returns, Drakar speaks, keeping his words quiet enough to carry only to the people at the table. "The priestess at the Temple of Akanksha was somewhat less than helpful. She was obviously concealing something, but I do not believe that she was doing so willingly. She felt coerced to me. Also, she was completely uncaring about the possibility of an illithid in the city and said that there had been no overt changes in the policies of the town leaders that she was aware of. While questioning the spirits later, I was told that there was much unseen in the temple and much that needed to be corrected. The spirit said 'The basement has the keyhole, you need to find the key.' "What did the two of you find at the wizards guild?" Segev pulls out a chair and sits at that table, and begins counting items off on his fingers in a quiet voice. "Our goblin friends' quarry is not the murderer we seek." He holds up his index finger. "We can find more clues to the murderer's location and identity on the fifth level of the catacombs beneath the city." His middle finger joins his index finger. "It was hinted that the murderer may be a darker creature than the illithid." He raises his ring finger to join the other two. "And we already possess a portion of the artifact for which both we and the illithid seek." He raises his little finger. Looking up to meet Drakar and Kyran's eyes with his own blue-grey ones, he continues, "There was more that our informant could not tell us, for fear of the suffering such knowledge would bring to the denizens of this city. Among these may lie the answer to your conundrum with the Priestesses. If you would take some with you into the bowels of this city to seek more about the murderer, I have work I wish to get done this day. If you have no more to share now, I shall gather my servant and pursue some errands in the city." "We'll have to wait for Korg and Ruathor to return from their foray," Drakar mentions. "I've no wish to go haring off without the rest of the party. How long do you require for the work you wish to get done Segev? I believe we can spare a day or so while we make the necessary preparations." Drakar pauses and listens to the necromancer's response before continuing. "It will likely take most of the rest of the day, if not longer. I will not pursue it too much beyond what I can discover today, unless things seem promissing, however." "In any case, I need to take Narush outside the city to hunt. We can canvas the surrounding territory while we do so and see if the folk outside the town have any information about the unrest south of here." The necromancer rises, and gestures for his minion to follow. "I will attempt to return shortly after sundown. If I am not back sometime tonight, then something unexpected has come up." Leaving the tavern, Segev returns to the wizard's shop where he purchased supplied earlier, and sells some back, explaining that they are not quite what he needed, after all. Fifteen hundred gold pieces the wealthier, he sets off to the wizard's guild once more. Before the receptionist can open her mouth to greet him, he interrupts in his quiet voice, "I am here to hire a member of the guild to cast a spell for me. Unfortunately, it is beyond my power, but I feel it's potency and purpose will be highly beneficial in the short-term future. To whom do I speak to engage such services?" "It depends greatly on the spell to be cast," the receptionist states. "Several of our members are available for spellcasting services, and several more have scrolls of their more potent spells available. Their prices vary greatly. Which spell in particular are you looking to have cast?" "Mind Blank." "That's a pretty powerful spell. Wait here, while I see if we have anyone available that can cast it for you." She disappears for several minutes, then returns holding a sheet of parchment. "Go to the address listed; it's the address of a wizard who retired from adventuring a hundred years ago and has been a member of the guild for nearly twice that time. He's able to cast the spell, although I must inform you that his price will include more than just gold." Segev smiles mysteriously as he takes the parchment. "Thank you. It will be intriguing to see what he does charge." Turning gracefully, he glides out of the building with his minion in tow. Once outside, he studies the address for a moment, and reads any other helpful directions that the parchment may contain before heading for the listed location at a brisk, purposeful pace. As he walks through the city, Segev notices Korg and Ruathor being hauled in a barred wagon towards the local gaol. Upon reaching the address indicated, Segev takes in the layout of the place. It is a decent-sized walled estate, with the hint of an orchard visible over the ten foot tall walls. The guard at the gate stops Segev. "What do you want?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Wilderness: Drakar rises as well, conference and meal done. Nodding to the others he comments, "I had better be off as well. Can't expect a dire wolf to be well behaved forever. Anyone that would like to tag along with the two of us is welcome, and we'll meet back here at sundown." Katrina hunts out Drakar in the inn, mentally giving Anansi a command to keep an eye on the necromancer. "I must admit, cities have never been my preference, and I'm sure Narush would like some fresh air. Shall we head outside the gates and explore?" With that the half-orc heads into the stable behind the inn. Slipping the boy watching the animals a copper piece, he takes his 'bull' out of the stables. "There's another copper piece for you if you keep this stable open. I need to take my bull to a buyer but we'll probably be back by sundown." Nodding to the boy, he heads out through Therro's south gate, where Katrina joins them. Once outside the gaes, Drakar slips off the collar from Narush's neck. The illusion fades, cowbell and all and the dire wolf shakes himself vigorously. Gazing into the countryside, the three fade into the brush.