ooc: Are you guys still at the cafe near Thibault or did you follow Jody to the tavern when this happened?
This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Sun 15 Sept 2019.

Gwydian follows, listening when he can here, but it seems rude to intrude on the current dialogue.

In reply to Gwydian (msg # 36):

Mock bids his cousins farewell with the words "We will likely do just that. Travel safe and may your dealing be profitable."

Once they leave, he agrees with the ranger and begins to lead the others in the direction indicated.

"I'm for that" Gram added once Mock had said his piece "I had thought the land this far west would be fairly safe, but between your errand..." he refereed to Navarre's following the Orcs "And this business with the messengers, I'm beginning to wonder if I was mistaken"

He urged his horse along behind him, and moved with the others towards the abode of Master Gloin.

Having heard some of what was said despite the noise of the cafe, Thibault finishes his coffee, puts his map in its case back in his pack, and hastens after the others towards the abode of Gloin.

The group retraces its steps through the bustling Market Square, past stalls with sacks of potatoes or bolts of vibrant silk, luxurious carpets and honey in the comb. Along the quay, a fenced-in area contains a multitude of sheep, cattle, and poultry, animal musk and squawking, lowing, and baaing assailing the senses. A musician strolls by, playing a lute tolerably well, though he seems to be still getting the hang of some of his chords.

Crossing a short bridge, the group walks under an archway and past several warehouses, storage no doubt for merchants in Lake-town. Another archway leads to a residential area of small homes, townhouses and apartments, many brightly painted or decorated with ropes and canvas. Here a group of children are having a foot race, several small and medium sized dogs chasing excitedly alongside.

Now turning to the north, the travelers come to a gate that leads up to the Town-hall looming above them. The gate is staffed by two guards, who look at the group suspiciously, but when Mock says they are there  to visit Glóin, the guards allow them to pass through the gate, though the two guards watch the travelers carefully.

This area of Lake-town is on a higher elevation than the rest of Esgaroth, the stilts here stouter and rising higher out of the water. The Town-hall is on an even higher platform and rises three stories in the air. Following the Dwarves' directions, the group finds a lavish, well-built manor across from the steps leading up to the Town-hall, and knocking on the door, they are shown inside by a young Dwarf who looks curiously at the strangers and their weapons and leaves them in the vestibule.

The young Dwarf disappears within the interior of the mansion, and after a few minutes, an older Dwarf emerges, wiping ink from his fingers with barely contained impatience. He is a middle-aged Dwarf and wears rich white clothes, matching the hue of the two points of his forked beard. He looks expectantly at the group of heroes.

"I am Glóin. What can I do for you?"



OOC: So far, I have Mock, Navarre, Gram, Gwydian, and Thibault heading to see Gloin. Jody, let me know what you are doing, if you're following the others or going off on your own.

Tell me how you're going to approach this meeting, whether you speak individually or designate a spokesperson. Whatever your choice, also give me a Savoir-Faire (High Society), Savoir-Faire (Military), Diplomacy, or Fast-Talk roll.

Mock led the way along the path. The city was vibrant, and yet it soon became clear that the class of buildings, and people, was rising, and he began to feel somewhat out of his league. The clip-clopping of the mule in an area that usually saw well bred warhorses only seemed to underscore the difference, and it looked like the only folk that wore armour here were hired for that reason. Looking around, he noted the sage had followed them.

"Hey, you probably know how to talk to important folks, right? I know I am a Dwarf, but Glóin is kind of higher class than me. Why don't you do the fancy talking and I will be here for morale support?"

"I know how to talk to academics and dwarf society is unknown to me, but I'll give it a try." Thibault whispered back. Realizing that he, as a sage, had little to offer in the search personally, he opted to imply that the gathered strangers were some kind of group.

"Envoy Gloin," He chose a generally neutral honorific and gave a stiff bow. "We encountered two dwarves - Nabbi and Hepti - in the market and they mentioned the messengers gone missing in the mountains. As experts in our various fields we have come seeking employment in your service, at least in terms of helping to find the missing."

Thibault indicated himself. "I am Thibault, a sage whose studies have oft taken him into the mountain. With me petitioning for your grace are Mock Ironside of the Iron Hills, Navarre, hunter of Orks, Gram, strong young Eorling..." he pauses, realizing he has no idea who Gwydian is... "And this fine young man here."

ooc: He also introduces Jody if Jody is present. Diplomacy roll passed, even taking Cultural Familiarity penalties into account..
This message was last edited by the player at 14:03, Mon 16 Sept 2019.

Kodran is nearly in awe as he passes by and through the large and rich buildings.  He's seen them from a distance and heard stories from his father, who sometimes worked for or met with upper class individuals but Navarre has not being so young.

He is thrilled to gain audience with the well connected dwarf and even more thrilled to have a representative speaking for him.


OOC:
Navarre will happily stand there looking like a capable tracker and killer while the more refined do the negotiating.

Gram stood a little straighter at Thibault's generous introduction. He crossed his arms and smiled, much like he would at a pretty farm girl. The effect was undoubtedly lost upon the aged Dwarf, but he still looked in the very blush of good health, as did  the horse next to him, for what it was worth.

Glóin gives the group a critical once-over before finally nodding. “I’d honestly prefer a company of Dwarves,” he says, nodding in Mock’s direction, “but I think you lot may be what I’m looking for.”

Hands behind his back, the Dwarf says, “My cousin Balin son of Fundin left the Lonely Mountain with a companion. He was meant to deliver an invitation from King Dáin Ironfoot to the Lord of the Eagles for the coming Gathering of the Five Armies, an important event to be held at the beginning of Summer. He planned to go south along the Running River to explore conditions along the Old Forest Road and possibly traverse it, now that the threat of Goblins has been greatly reduced.”

The Dwarf shakes his head. “I don’t know what has happened, but I am afraid that the possibilities are many in these days of doubt. If the perils of Wilderland were not enough, there are always the suspicious dwellers of the Woodlands Realm to consider. They are sworn enemies of the Shadow, but unfortunately they don’t love Dwarves, and they watch their realm jealously. I hope my concerns are ill-placed, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my cousin Balin once again found himself the guest of the Elvenking’s vaunted hospitality.”

OOC: Feel free to ask whatever questions you have. You can also make a Perception check or a Body Language (defaults to Detect Lies -4 or Psychology -4) check.

A successful History (Wilderland) roll reveals that Glóin was also held captive by the Elf King along with Balin and 11 other companions.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:56, Tue 24 Sept 2019.

Gram seemed to feel a bit uncomfortable addressing such an important personage, but he cleared his throat in anticipation when he saw the opportunity.

"When was your Cousin and his companion last seen my Lord? We're they to be away long?"

Thibault stepped back to let the others ask what questions they might.

Navarre liked these people but already he was forming a bond with Gram, perhaps because he was a soldier.  A warrior by trade.  So Kodran leans in and whispers something while their host is distracted.

Glóin takes a moment to size up Gram before saying, “The two left nine days ago, traveling south from Erebor. Here, I’ll show you the route they intended to take.”

The dwarf goes to a nearby desk and selects a map, holding it up for a moment, then laying it down and choosing another. Checking this, he brings it over to a large table and spreads it out. The map shows Wilderland from the Iron Hills in the east, to the Long Lake and Mirkwood Forest, to the Grey Hills in the north and the area west of the Misty Mountains.

With a stubby finger, he points out the Lonely Mountain in the North. “My cousin’s plan was to leave Erebor and journey south along the road that trails the Running River. Then, he intended to take the Old Forest Road if possible to the west until he arrived at the Eyrie of the Eagles. Altogether, the journey would take about forty-five days if all went well.” He shakes his head. “I doubt he got very far into Mirkwood.”

OOC: See the map thread for Glóin’s map and to trace Balin’s probable route.

The expression on Grams face when he beheld the map was one of wonder, and it seemed likely that the lad had never seen such a creation before. His eyes roved openly all about it, sparks of recognition upon his face at this or that before he seemed to force himself to attend to the matter at hand.

He listened to Gloin, then looked faintly puzzled. "Pardon my ignorance Master Gloin, but if they were to be away for such a span, what has given you cause to worry so after only nine days? Has  some news come to your ear from the south?"

Thibault unrolls his own regional map and makes light notes indicating the route.

Glóin colors slightly and looks as if he is about to speak. Then he says, “Indeed, young Eorling, word has reached us. We Dwarves have a kinship with the ravens as of old, and our friends have spied no trace of Balin or his companion at any length along their path. Unless they decided to take another road, which I have no reason to believe they have, they could have very well fallen afoul of one of any number of dangers along the way.”

Again, Glóin looks as though he has more to say, but then with a small shake of his head, he says, “If the ravens cannot find them, then I fear trouble has.”

Navarre stands silently by at first, afraid to spoil the deal with his Rangerish reputation.  But by half way through the explanation Kodran has his arms folded over his chest with a smug smirk about his face as if he knows exactly what happened and putting this matter to rest is child's play.  ”Beg yer pardon Master Glóin.  Could we get a list 'a their possessions?  If we spot someone wearin' their boots or belts could speed up findin' 'em.”

Navarre forces a fake smile.  I'm onto you old boy, the rough looking woodsman thinks to himself.

“Wearing their boots or belts-“ Glóin peers suspiciously at the tall Ranger.

“Are you making fun of me, lad?” he growls. “How am I supposed to know what the two had in their pockets? Balin certainly didn’t send a list to me with what he intended to take on his journey.” The middle-aged Dwarf snorts in derision. “They’d have their axes, of course, and bows. Provisions for the journey. But an itemized list of their packs and gear-“

“And as if anyone but a Dwarf would walk around wearing clothes tailored for a Dwarf. Do you take me for a fool, boy? Perhaps I should look elsewhere for those that I seek.” He begins rolling up the map he had laid out earlier. “If you’re going to waste time divagating, you can see yourself right out.”

In reply to Loremaster (msg # 54):

"I think the ranger was actually thinking or orkahs, such as those he was hunting, who may well wear spoils from such an encounter. Or their goblin companions who might actually find such an improvement." He glances at the ranger, as if suggesting he had said enough.

"But I think what he was asking for was something that might identify the killers if we encounter those who killed them. Generic Dwarven clothes and possessions may not necessarily indicate that they have been killed. If we cannot find them alive what might we find as a sign. A scroll or signet ring, perhaps?"

"Gentlemen, please." Thibault turns to Gloin. "We mean no disrespect. You will have to forgive us - as you well know as an Envoy the ways of humans and Dwarves are very different, and the ways of the highborn humans different again from the low. Any offense on the part of my companions is unintentional."

"However, I will concede that it does feel as if there's more to this than you've shared thusfar. Some other danger, perhaps, that you're unwilling to share, or a political angle we're unaware of, or other circumstances.

I can assure you that we are both utterly fearless and just as discrete, so if there's anything else that would help us in our search, you needn't hesitate in sharing it."

ooc: Diplomacy to smooth things over/get more info: Success.

Seeing that the deal is about to fall apart Navarre takes the hints from both dwarves.  He dips his head slightly in a shallow bow.  His tone is humble and apologetic.  ”Aye.  I meant no offense Master Gloin.  Just lookin' for clues that out in the field is gonna help answer this mystery is all.  I wanna see the safe return 'a your people as much as you do.”  And with that Kodran steps back and says no more.

Shaking his head, Glóin says to Mock, "A ring of some kind? None that I know of. Of course, Balin will be carrying the letter from King Dáin to the Lord of the Eagles. I wouldn't be surprised if Dáin sent along a gift for the Eagle lord as well, though I don't know what that might be."

At Thibault's respectful, polite speech, Glóin sighs and takes a seat in a high-backed chair. Where before he looked the very picture of health and industriousness, the Dwarf looks lessened now, his brow furrowed, his beard highlighted with white. "There is one other thing," he says quietly, slumping forward in his chair.

"A dream, a few days after Balin's departure. Balin's companion was my brother, Óin, and I dreamed vividly of Óin, drowning in dark waters. I pray it was not an episode of foresight, but I fear for my brother's life. That's why I had Hraf search far and wide for Balin and Óin, but the raven could not find them anywhere. It's as if they were swallowed up whole by the marshes."

In reply to Loremaster (msg # 58):

"That is very concerning. What details can you tell us about the dream, if I may ask?"