"What if," Sisera begins, before swapping to elvish for the rest. "Rydym yn tipio oddi ar y gwarchodwyr ac yn gadael iddynt wybod bod gennym rywun ar y tu mewn, sydd yno i gadw tabs hyd nes y gard yn gallu cyrraedd. Ef yw'r unig gorachyn yno, yn iawn? Rydyn ni'n dweud wrthyn nhw mai'r gorach yw ein cyswllt, a bod mae'n gallu siarad â'r troseddau y maen nhw'n eu cyflawni os oes angen."
Elvish Translation
"We tip off the guards and let them know we have someone on the inside, who is there to keep tabs until the guard can arrive. He is the only elf there, right? We just tell them the elf is our contact, and that he can speak to the crimes they are committing if needed. Then we need not get our hands dirty, but also have a way for Aeron to be absolved."
"It could work," Alierin replies, continuing to speak in Kurnish. "It doesn't guarantee Aeron's safety, but it's better than trying to sneak him out of there. We could say he's being forced into it, which is true."
Dessarius grimaces slightly. "Roof Boy has a point, I think. I've seen elves get ignored constantly, and that might not even be a point in our favor." He says, thinking; "I don't think we should get our hands dirty either, but we should accept that we might have to."
Roof Boy gives Dessarius a crooked glance, though you're not sure if it is at the nickname or the blacksmith agreeing with him.
Cymril nods at Alierin's words. "Not all of the guard are terrible people. After Kiros attacked us, the two that we found came running as soon as we asked for help. I'm sure Aeron will be able to talk his way through it."
"Well let's find some guards. If they don't want to listen to us, we can come back to that conversation," Alierin says to Dessarius. "We should get moving before they're done - and you should go home, can't have one of Donleg's guys spotting you," she adds turning to her brother.
Roll Perception or Streetwise to see how quickly or closely you find a guard.
Aeron
You get to work, loading the first dinghy. After a few minutes, Donleg steps back out of the shack, and you hear him speaking with some of the others outside.
The older elf man who had previously ignored your presence instead casts a curious glance your way. "Your first time doing this?" he asks as he hefts another cage into the dinghy.
Leaving the pier, you push deeper into Southward, avoiding the crumbling ruins while looking for streets that still bear some form of business.
After a few minutes Dessarius catches sight of torchlight. Following it, you find a lone guard passing through the quiet district. The orcish woman is tall, young-faced, and alert. She holds a spear and is dressed in the typical raiment of most Groznid guards: grey quilted armor with the Clan insignia, pocked with bronze studs. She turns your way as the almost crowd of you pile into the avenue.
Dessarius quickly realized how bad this could look- A group of young elves coming across a lone orcish guard. His mind flashes back to Nytholis, and his many failings. He raises a hand to hail the guard, "Hail," He calls out gently to the Orc, quickly making his way over. "We need your help, please." He says as he finally approaches, waiting a moment to see how the orc responds.
The young guardswoman clutches onto the haft of her spear as you approach, evidently spooked by the sudden and numerous appearance of towering elves. She holds position, her dark eyes searching each of you in kind. "What? What's the matter?" the guard asks, halfway between annoyed and concerned.
"Some smugglers, down at the docks. They're forcing our friend to help them load up their ship right now," Alierin explains, almost pleading, to the guard. Hopefully she's able to get help quickly, I don't know what one guard will be able to do.
"Really," the guard replies, clearly unmoved. She glances over the lot of you in the moonlight, your clothes and armor looking somewhat worse for wear from your struggles with the nokve earlier that day. Her eyes fall across your various weaponry. "How can I be sure you're not just playing some cheap trick at my expense?"
"Our friend," Sisera begins, annoyed by the woman's callousness, though trying not to show it. "Councillor son. Bad thing happen to him, you do nothing, job gone."And maybe a nice beating to go with it.
Mechanics
Intimidate: [1d20+3]=5+3=8 Intimidate is +8, so 13 total
"Once before, kind of," Aeron responds to the aged elf, feeling a pit in his stomach. "I was volunteered that time too." He frowns, keeping his gaze low. Wonder if this guy is how Gerirl got roped into this. Connections are everything for people like us.
The guard huffs out a sigh at the words councilor son. "Sounds like his mom should be the one losing her job." She shakes her head disdainfully, though a curious look forms in her eyes. "What happened?"
Aeron
You feel the older elf studying you for a moment, before he turns his sights on a new cage. "Volunteered for this? How you mean? Doni got his hooks on you or something?"
"No, nothing like that," Aeron reassures the aged elf. "I'm a friend of Gerirl's. He had to go be by his mother's bedside, and your boss didn't want to be short on hands. So I was made to take his place."
Dessarius hesitates now, realizing in his moment of brash determinism to move the night towards its malleable end, he hadn't fully considered how to explain to the woman why they were there. I don't know Alierin, I don't know Gerirl. Can I sell them out? Of everyone here, I only really know Aeron... and not even that much. He blinks, his face a reflection of the torment and struggle he's sifting through internally as he starts to speak; "We're trying to stop a criminal named Donleg from his task tonight. He's transporting birds, presumably illegally. I got roped into doing the task for him, and in trying to save me, our friend got taken instead. I couldn't learn much but we know roughly where his boat is now." He says, "There's not much more to the story than that. Donleg was very tight-lipped when it came to the task at hand, who the birds were going to, where, or why, and if that won't convince you then there's not much that will."Mechanics
The guard listens to Dessarius' words, her eyes widening considerably as he continues. "Not much more, eh?" she responds, her gaze steely. "You lot should come with me. I'll need to get a few more men to help sort this out." She beckons you to follow her.
Aeron
The older elf nods, as if understanding, or at least pretending to. "You're a good friend for that," he whispers, speaking now in his native Elvish — the words flowing much more naturally. "This is shit work. I dislike seeing younglings like yourself doing it. There's another out there, watching the water. Told her she shouldn't get wrapped up in all this, but you know the call of coin."
You sense distrust and suspicion in the guard's narrowing eyes, especially as Dessarius fumbles through falsified admissions of how he was roped into performing supposedly illegal work under Donleg.
Her eyes flit between the several of you, very clearly wary of your size and number.
Dammit, more of our people getting roped into this? She doesn't deserve to get hanged too for being desperate and getting taken advantage of... Aeron frowns, letting out a weighty sigh at the aged elf's words. "Aye, I know that call well. And that desperation. I take it you've done this for some time?" he says in Elvish, taking some comfort in their native tongue.
Alierin follows after the guard warily. I'm not sure she bought that. Maybe we can convince the other guards. Donleg must be known to some of them which would lend us some credibility, there's no chance a smuggler like him hasn't had to pay a bribe or two over the years.
She listened, good. Hopefully the other guards listen, too, Sisera thinks, following after the line guardswoman in hopes that they will find aid. And hopefully quickly enough to get Aeron out of this.
You follow the guardswoman as she leads you further west. Traversing the ruined avenues that give way to more maintained ones, you reach the edge of Vozto, near where the Akame Bridge touches down on the river island. At the edge of the districts is a small palisade set into a sudden rise in the terrain. Roughly constructed in years past undoubtedly for the war effort, the imposing structure has been long since converted to a half-decent guard barracks. The pine and beech log walls tower nearly twice your height, a small cut-out along the perimeter serving as the single entrance and exit.
The young orcish woman leads you inside, where a pair of guards stand watch — their faces tired but alert, moreso at your approach. "Calva, what have you brought us tonight?" asks one man, his thick beard an anomaly upon his almost adolescent face.
"These elf-folk say there's a man named Donleg off Southward, smuggling birds," she answers, before waving toward Dessarius."This one says he's got ties to the business, could show us. You two free to come along?"
The other man speaks, his bushy eyebrows raising at his peer's words. "Donleg, eh? Think the captain knows the fellow. I'm sure there's a simple misunderstanding here. Why don't you two stay here, and I'll go and sort this out myself?" he offers.
Calva opens her mouth but closes it, casting a glance back your way. "I'd prefer to come along," she insists, her distrusting eyes scanning the lot of you.
"Suit yourself," the other man says nonchalantly. He nods Dessarius' way. "Go on, lad. Take us to him."
Aeron
The older elf shrugs. "Not too long, few months at the most. Spent most of my days in this place working the Low Docks, but lately it's younglings like yourself that have pushed people like me out of work. No offense. Lot of these orcs don't live past fifty, you see. They look at someone like me and think I'm a day away from the soil."
Dessarius nods and glances at the others in Aeron's party, but then leads the two orcs and the rest of the party back towards the dock where they left Aeron and Donleg. "We'll need a boat. We think Donleg was boating out to another, larger boat in the bay. I know it will be hard to trust us going out into the water, but please." He says and looks at the one they called Calva in the hopes that she really does believe them. He continues to walk them back toward the pier, hoping beyond hope that Donleg hasn't left yet. Mechanics
Alierin eyes the guard with the bushy eyebrows with suspicion. Or Donleg is currently bribing them... She thinks, continuing her previous train of thought. Fuck, this could be bad if that's the case. At least she seems to not be in Donleg's pocket even if she doesn't trust us, she thinks, glancing at the female guard they first called upon.
"We will signal for one should we need it," the guard named Calva says to the blacksmith. "But that is our duty to consider, not yours. You just show us the way to this Donleg fellow." She grabs an unlit torch from a nearby bin slides it into a groove in her belt.
The man with the busy eyebrows nods, nothing to add for now.
The two guards follow you out of the barracks, taking up the rear with Dessarius leading the way.OOC
Are you leading them straight to the pier?
Aeron
After several minutes, you finish loading the dinghy with roughly half of the covered cages stacked in the boathouse. Donleg returns, flanked by two more figures.
In the dim light, you remember the first as one of the younger orcish men that had initially spotted your approach. The second is a tall elvish woman who you immediately recognize as Galain, daughter of Tribute Temlys. While you know her father, you've only shared a few words with Galain during the course of your tribunal duties. She eyes you curiously, but says nothing.
"You," the smuggler captain grunts, looking your way. "Get on board. You're going out first with these two." He turns toward the young orc beside him. "Bagrus, you're the lead on this run. Get these onboarded and get back here. You've got ten minutes."
Bagrus shrugs, casting an arrogant grin toward Galain. "You heard him. Let's move." He pays you no mind as he climbs into the dinghy and starts untying the moorings.
So we have gone from one escort to two. Not sure how that helps much, but if it means they believe us, that is better than where we were before. Sisera follows quietly after the others, keeping an eye on both of the guards for their reactions.
Alierin continues to follow, keeping her mouth shut as they head for the pier, not wanting to say anything that might disrupt their already tenuous plan.
Aeron begrudgingly steps into the dinghy, returning Galain's curious gaze as he recognizes her. How did she fall into this mess? And does her father know? He stays silent, trying to piece together a way to save not only him, but Galain now too. If it's only us three, maybe we can overpower Bagrus... He seems like a prick anyway.
Having made the walk a few times now, Dessarius leads the pair of Clan guards back towards the pier and Donleg's operation.
A short distance ahead, the boathouse sits quietly in the cool, evening breeze. The doors appear closed from here.
"Where to?" the guard named Calva demands of Dessarius, holding her torch high as she peers about the area.
Aeron
Bagrus finishes with the moorings, hopping aboard the dinghy that pitches uncomfortable against the weight. There is a flutter of wings and coos from under the covered cages, though after a moment, the creatures settle once more.
Bagrus pushes off with an oar. You float out of the boathouse, away from the dilapidated pier, and into the Bay proper.
The young orc keeps his eyes on the water, though he addresses you. "Ten minutes, remember. Let's deliver these and get gone before anyone's the wiser."
Galain stays quiet, her attention on the horizon for now.
Might be better on the way back, Aeron considers, eyeing the covered cages and fully aware of the ruckus the birds might cause. If the guards will already be waiting there, they'd definitely notice the noise on the harbor. He frowns, keeping an eye on the other two in the boat with him.
The three of you row at Bagrus' direction for a few minutes, drawing near a schooner of clearly foreign make. A pair of wide-eyed human sailors stand at the ready, their eyes scanning the waters behind before they fall over the three of you. One tosses a rope over, and Bagrus pulls the dinghy alongside.
"Whose freight are you bringing us?" asks one of the sailors, his Kurnish practiced despite the whip of Serran in his words.
"Donleg," Bagrus replies. "There's another load a few minutes behind us." He turns to you. "You're up again, elf."
Everyone Else
Calva walks ahead toward the boathouse, a haste in her step. The other guard follows suit, jogging a few steps to catch up. Neither appear to be waiting for you.OOC
Sisera follows along as Alierin does, though she keeps a safer distance behind then the other woman. Hopefully all goes well and Aeron is freed from this situation.
Aeron casts a glance toward Bagrus and lets out a sigh. Quicker it's done, quicker we can get out of here. Doing his best to hide a grimace, the elf gets to work. OOC
Do I need to roll anything? Not entirely sure how I'm meant to be loading, whether climbing onto the schooner myself or lifting from the dinghy. Smh making the new guy do everything with no explanation. Get it together, Donleg
With little opposition, you lend your hand to the hauling. In short time, and with the help of a pulley, the stacks of covered cages are lifted to the schooner. No sooner than the last cage leaves the dinghy does Bagrus push off immediately.
Ahead in the murky light of Groznid Bay, you can just make out the other dinghy approaching with the second load. As you pass by them, you count three others — the old elf, the Serranborn, and the other younger orc. That leaves only Donleg, who you presume must be back at the pier.
Everyone Else
You follow along gingerly as the guardswoman approaches the boathouse, her partner in lockstep.
Calva bangs on the closed doors. "Clan Watch," comes her voice, a sense of unyielding assurance in her tone.
You hear no immediate answer, but after a moment, a man's voice croaks, "yes, what is it?"
"Come outside," Calva answers. "We will need to speak with you a moment."
There is a pregnant pause, before you hear the man's voice again. "Just one moment. I will be right there."
Alierin waits, deferring to the clan guards. I wonder what happens if this crew get away. Leaving them 'undealt with' can't mean anything good for us, she thinks, starting to worry that their plan is unlikely to satisfy their employer.
Aeron's eyes flick to the passing dinghy, frowning as the aged elf drifts by. He's a victim of circumstance like the rest of us. He hardly deserves to hang. He winces before looking to Galain. "Bydd gwarchodwyr yn aros i ni ddychwelyd. Os nad ydych chi eisiau gweld y tu mewn i gell, helpwch fi i ddelio ag ef," he says in his native tongue, subtly looking to Bagrus. Elvish Translation
Guards will be waiting for our return. If you don't want to see the inside of a cell, help me deal with him.
Galain blinks, staring at you a long moment, her mouth pulled into a frown. "Deal with him... how?" she asks in her native tongue. Her voice is a mixture of skeptical and concerned. "What's going on?"
Bagrus glances over his shoulder at you, then Galain in turn. He squints through the dark night, his brows narrowing.
"This is an illegal smuggling operation you got yourself in. The Clan Guard is already waiting at the dock," Aeron replies to the girl plainly, not wanting to alert the orc with his tone. "Either help me convince him not to dock, or help me get rid of him." She got herself into this, but who can say if she has it in her to get her hands dirty.
"Just thought we saw something in the water," Aeron says in Kurnish to the orc, hoping to cover for Galain's reaction. "Hearing the stories our parents tell is enough to make anyone uneasy around open water." He peers over the edge, squinting into the inky depths of the harbor. "There! I think I saw it again. Can you see anything?" He points to the water, hoping the orc will take the distraction. Mechanics
