It's been some time since I updated it!
During the last session, Gorrister discovered that Forken Tallan, the criminal he's looking for, frequents the Smoldering Corpse Bar. Those that played Planescape: Torment might know this place: it's a location in the Hive where you can recruit two team members. This solo play is mostly nostalgia fodder, so I thought it would be a nice addition.
Scene 3
Does the scene go as intended? Yes (9 vs. CR 3)
Finding a place more different from the Lady's Ward than Hive was hard. The sickly and malnourished inhabitants could attest that it was a place of squalor and misery. The crowded streets were even more cramped by makeshift shacks, tents, and puddles. Despite the dabuses doing whatever they could, most buildings were in disrepair and overgrown with razorvine.
If I appeared there as I usually look like, I would have been stabbed, robbed, and sold to the collectors before making it to the Smoldering Corpse Bar. That's why I came in as Balder, a shifty-looking tiefling with a lazy eye and a scar on his chin. Instead of the foppish clothing, I brought worn-out leather pants, a tattered grey cloak, and a threadbare shirt. I hid the purse in a backpack and bound it tightly with rags to silence the clinking of the coins. I didn't look like someone worth stealing from, which didn't make me completely safe.
Fortunately, I entered the Smoldering Corpse Bar without any accidents.
It was a peculiar place, to say the least. It was incredibly hot here, to the point where I marveled how the patrons could stand sitting here. The center of the building was occupied by grilles with red-hot coal here and there. A charred cadaver levitated over the largest one, constantly burning with flames that should have turned him to ash a long time ago but didn't.
This gruesome scene was surrounded by a raised area with tables and a bar. This was where the patrons sat, most unbothered by the spectacle below. Most of them looked intimidating: a muscular man in Harmonium armor, two winged, reptilian abishai, a mage in a multi-colored robe and several rings on every finger, and even a lone red slaad which somehow didn't start rampaging yet.
Is there anyone around who knows anything about Tallan's whereabouts? (Somewhat Likely) Yes. (21 vs. 9/45/90). It would probably be the bartender.
I approached the man behind the counter, leather-skinned with just a hint of ashen color on his face—a common fate of those that visit the Grey Waste.
"What's your poison?" he asked. At first glance, he was bored; however, there was some tension in his movements and voice. I realized it must be because of the slaad.
"Heartwine," I said, "And, possibly, some chant about the blood called Forken Tallan."
Let's make a behavior roll. His Identity is a Bartender, his Personality (as we know from the game) is Gruff, and the Activity is that he Dislikes Wasting Time. Our Theme is "Being asked about a customer." Given that it does waste poor Barkis' time, it makes sense to activate his last two descriptors, giving us +4 to the Disposition Roll.
His Initial Disposition after adding the modifier is 18, which brings him straight to Aggressive. The roll gives us a Theme Action, though. Our bartender has a tough day and doesn't appreciate being bothered.
His eyes narrowed. "How about a club to the brain-box and a ride to the Mortuary on a cart?"
"You wouldn't be spilling the dark for free. I'll gladly pay you for just chatting with me while I drink the wine," I said, realizing I was on thin ice right now. He didn't look like much, but a wimp wouldn't get to run a successful tavern in Hive Ward for long.
The Theme changes here because Barkis no longer answers us for free. His Activity gives us -2 now, canceling the modifier provided by Personality and bringing his Disposition down to just Active. The roll gives us another Theme Action, which in this context means that he sells us the info we want while still not being very happy about it.
He thought about it for a moment. "This better be worthy of my time," he said, still unhappy, "Or we're going to have a problem."
"Where was the last time you saw him?" I asked.
"Pay up."
"But you haven't told me anything," I raised my eyebrows, despite knowing well what he wanted.
"Pay up if you want to hear the chant. If it doesn't satisfy you, that's between you and your sister to discuss after you pike her."
I didn't really appreciate being insulted, but what could I do? I didn't plan to advertise this place to my friends or customers, but I could bear with it while doing my job.
"How much?" I asked.
"Ten greens. And three for the heartwine," he said, putting a brass cup on the counter and filling it with ruby liquid.
"All right, fine."
After finally finding the purse in my backpack, I gave him the money and took a sip of the wine. It was good: sweet with a sour aftertaste. As with many things from Carceri, it was insidious: it barely felt like bub, but it was stronger than ordinary wine. Many lemons from the Prime would drink cup after cup, only to find themselves unable to sit, let alone stand. One of the 'hilarious' pranks popular among the spoiled nobility of Clerks' Ward was goading a naïve newcomer to chug an entire jug of heartwine, which could even put the smaller and scrawnier ones in the dead-book.
Was Forken Tallan in the bar after his friends were arrested? (Average) Yes. (9 vs. 5/25/86)
"It was two days before," the bartender said. "It was dark already, so maybe two hours before the antipeak."
I kept a neutral face, but I felt excited. If he came to a public place while being hunted by two separate factions, he was either very careless or it was something important.
"Was he meeting someone," I asked.
Was he? (Near Sure Thing). Yes (44 vs. 15/75/96). 44 is too much to cause a random event with CR 3.
The bartender tapped the counter. "Five greens."
I sighed and put the money on the counter. "Here."
"Yes," he said, looking very self-satisfied.
I waited for a moment, then realized it was the entire answer. "Come on," I said, annoyed. "You want jinx just for saying 'yes'?"
"You expected to get whom he met just for five greens? Are you barmy?" he said, looking at me with pure contempt.
"So how much for the answer I actually wanted?"
"Twenty."
"Twenty greens is a bit much," I said. It wasn't, but I hoped to haggle him down. He was starting to make me narky.
"Twenty jinxes," he said with a triumphant grin.
I looked him in the eyes to figure out if he was serious. Twenty gold coins?! "Now you're the barmy one."
"He's a murderous leatherhead wanted by the Hardheads. You wouldn't be looking for him if there wasn't jinx involved. A lot of jinx."
Damn him, he figured that out. I guess it was evident in retrospect. It was hard to blame him for wanting a cut, but I did anyway because I didn't plan to share a significant part of the reward with him. Especially since I hadn't gotten paid yet.
"Jinx is involved, but definitely not enough to pay with gold," I lied.
He gave me a thoroughly unimpressed stare. "You think me a cony? I've been running this bar when you were merrily swimming in your father's balls."
"Do I look like someone who's going to kill Tallan?" I asked bluntly. Fortunately, I didn't go there looking like a bounty hunter: it would have made my bluff impossible.
"You look like someone who might try, get put in the dead book if everything goes well, or bring an angry Sinker back to me if it doesn't."
I sighed. "I just have a message for him. If I gave you twenty jinxes, that would be my entire reward and then some!"
"Then you're stupid for agreeing to this," the bartender said, "but how is that my problem?"
I put two silver coins on the counter. "I can give you twenty greens for this. Or walk away and find someone else. I don't think you're the only one who saw him."
Is Gorrister able to convince him? (Social Skills: Above Average vs. Streetwise: High) Yes. (25 vs.9/45/90)
Then, who is it? Let's use UNE for this: we get a Serene Slave whose motivations are: Prepare Patience, Operate Beauty, and Discover Military. The first sounds like a member of the Transcendent Order; the latter makes it look like she's trying to recruit Tallan. I interpret the "slave" liberally and decide she's a factotum, which makes her the devoted servant of her faction.
Operate Beauty is trickier; it sounds like a plastic surgeon. Given the Transcendent Order's focus on the body, this makes perfect sense and gives us the reason Tallan talked to her.
"All right," the bartender swiped the coins before I could reconsider. "That was some Cipher woman. Tall, muscular, hair cropped short."
"Are you sure she was a Cipher?"
"Yes, and not just some namer. She hadn't made a single move without a reason. At some point, he threatened her with his shivs, and she just smiled slightly like a grandmother whose grandson is acting out."
That did sound like a member of the Transcendent Order, all right. "Anything else was exceptional about her?"
"Her skin was perfect," the bartender saw my raised eyebrows and explained, "Usually people have moles, warts, freckles, hair in weird places, pox scars, whatever. She didn't even have a single pimple. Maybe she's an aasimar."
I sighed. My mission just got more complicated.
I chugged the rest of my wine. "Thank you for the info," I said. "Given how much I paid, would you at least give me another heartwine before I go?"
"This isn't a Bleakers' soup kitchen. You want a heartwine, you pay for one."
I didn't count on it and I didn't even want another cup. But getting something for free would be a reward on its own. Given the news, I needed something to make my mood better.
Forken Tallan was meeting Sylvia the Symmetrical, a factotum of the Transcendent Order. She was a wizard whose specialty was transmutation and necromancy. For a hefty price, she could change someone's appearance with a permanent spell and some clever work with a scalpel. Some vain and wealthy berks could actually pay a lot to make their nose smaller or their chin more prominent. I thought it stupid, but I could give myself a makeover whenever I wanted, so perhaps I wasn't the best judge.
This meant that soon enough, my quarry could be disguised as well as me. For all I knew, he might have already been unrecognizable. I would have appreciated the irony if this had happened to someone else. However, my sense of humor took a hit with my reward on the line.
I didn't even deign to say anything to the bartender as I left. It wasn't polite of me, but he was anything but nice.
