Two rogues and a Tour

Fate's Spire, Morning

Up in the mountains, the morning sun hits Fate's Spire from the east. It's chilly, this high up, the air somewhat thin. At least the sky is open with several fair clouds lazily strolling on by.

Wrapped up in a coat with a scarf to ward off the wind is that of a black haired human man, making his way into the Spire grounds. It's clear its his first time here, with the way he looks a touch lost.

Outside the Monastery, a small number of priests gather. From the sounds of it, they are deciding whom does which tasks this day. After a bit of noisy discussion, and trading of information, they begin to disperse. One straggler stays behind, peering up the spire itself, towards the top.

The Goblin seems unbothered by the wind, wearing her thick robes and leather cloak, both with hoods. She turns then, and begins to exit the grounds, her eyes finding the man soon enough. "Hello, have you come as a petitioner? Are you an adherent?", she says to him, as she offers a polite bow.

The man turns his attention down from the tower to the little gobber speaking to him. "Oh!" His green eyes crease in a smile. "Hello! I am uh.... not going to lie, I just kind of see the tower in the distance a lot from down in the city."

He lightly laughs, an embarrassed kind as he scratches his scraggly black hair. "Hopefully I'm not intruding or anything."

"It can be seen from quite a distance, can't it?", she replies with a smile. Simony shakes her head, "No, you are not intruding here."

She offers up her hand for shaking, "Simony Smithsdottir, nice to meet you. Hopefully it was not too arduous a climb."

The man juts out a mittened hand, smiling and shaking it. "Ah, pleasure, Miss Smithsdottir. Name's Zamir." Zamir pulls his hand back into the safety of his jacket pocket. "It wasn't too bad. Lot's of breaks."

He looks up to the spire, then back down to Simony. "So uh, what is this place?"

"This building? It is a monastery, dedicated to Navos. Vardaman and Korite monks share it with the Navosians. The history of Alexandria and the heartlands can be read, as you navigate the various places, inside and out." The Goblin gestures higher, "As for the Spire itself, hmm, I know not."

Zamir looks up to the building, and further up on to the spire as Simony explains. "... huh. That's pretty interesting. Is it... public? That sounds as if it's rather important information."

He looks down at Simony, then to the other monks before something clicks in his head. "I take it you're one of the Navosians?"

"Some places are public, for example there's a common room where you can sit and take a meal, but some places would require an escort. I could show you around inside, if you wanted to read some history. The sleeping area is generally off limits, however if you promise to be silent and not intrude, I could show you the contemplation and study areas briefly. The library is off limits, sadly, as are other internal areas."

She offers another bow, "Yes, I am one of the Navosians."

Zamir perks. "Truly? I will take that offer," he grins. "Please, lead on and sate my idle curiosity that I've had for several months."

He sighs, smiling. "I must admit I didn't realize I'd find something so fascinating. Certainly worth the trek up here."

The Goblin grins brightly, and gestures with a hand. "Would you like to sit down for a bit first, dry off a little, and perhaps have a bite to eat?"

She leads Zamir into the foyer, where several others have settled, chatting and eating steaming porridge from clay bowls. "Do you find history itself, fascinating, or is it the building that history is written on?", the little Temperance wonders of the man.

Zamir follows into the foyer, him casting his gaze about the space with vested interest. "Oh! Sure, if you are offering, I wouldn't be remiss. Especially afta' doing all the walking," he accepts, finding a seat.

"It'd say it's both. There's a lot to be learned from the past. Mostly is just an idle fancy, but I find myself looking more into it as of late."

She offers a polite smile and a nod, disappearing into a side door without a word. Moments later she returns, with a bowl filled with porridge, a spoon, and a mug filled with a brown liquid. "We have coffee ready also, so I brought you some, should warm you up a little, yes?"

She settles in beside him, "Why is it that you find yourself thinking about the past recently? Old memories, or perhaps various events happening recently?"

Zamir perks, him accepting the simple meal with a grin. "Ah, thank you!" He partakes, not quite as ravenous as one might be from climbing a whole mountain. Speaking between bites, "Old memories, coupled with recent events. A jumble of things that require answers, with the strength needed to face them."

"And you? Why are you up here? And I don't mean 'I work here'," he cheekily grins.

Simony snaps her fingers, "That was my first answer." Giggling, she rubs at a cheek as it colours in a light red. "I've always had an interest in learning new things. I was very sheltered due to my condition, and I was given books. I learned about far away places and ancient heroes, and all kinds of history. When I was old enough to decide things for myself, I left home and went off in search of adventure. It was a shrine to Navos where I first had inspiration. I dedicated myself to knowledge. Now I know several languages, read about interesting things all day, as well I go out and adventure. Not as fun as I thought it would be, this adventuring, but it's something."

Zamir tilts his head to the side, spoon dangling out of his mouth as he listens. "I see. That's very admirable. And sounds like you've accomplished quite a lot!"

Taking a sip of the coffee, he ponders. "What do you mean its not as fun as you thought it would be? Isn't that most of the point of adventuring? Or, well, the money, for some folks."

The Goblin shakes her head, "No, I've hardly accomplished anything. But I will keep at it."

"So far it's been a lot of screaming, vomiting, running, and fighting for one's life. I did get to explore an ancient tower that had been cast adrift in the plane of air. There were many books that we salvaged and brought back. Also a neat statue with a gem embedded in it. We had to fight a bunch of elemental imps... mephits... but they were not too tough."

She chuckles and lets her hoods down, running a hand through her uneven hair. "Had to get rescued still, but it turned out okay. But, well, some other jobs I've done, they have been pretty intense, kind of scarily so, fighting, with undead or bandits and getting sucked into far away places. Willing to keep at it for now, but I don't see how people can do a lifetime of this. Money is money, sure, but... I dunno. Maybe it's not for me."

Zamir raises a brow, chuckling good-naturedly. "That all sounds like a grand adventure ta me," he hums. "But half the fun, from what I've learned, is all the people that one gets to keep safe from the efforts. While all the terribleness is hard, the smiles gained along the way seems worth it. At least, that's what the books say."

He finishes his food, mulling his drink now. "And, well, sometimes its not for everyone. Sometimes it's just for a stint. Not everything is set in stone."

GAME: Slixvah rolls disguise+10: (4)+9+10: 23

GAME: Simony rolls perception: (17)+10: 27

"If you'd like, I could show you around a bit more. You can bring your coffee, if you'd like, but please be very careful not to spill it." Simony hops down from the seat, and steps over to a nearby doorway, pushing heavily upon the doors there.

"In this first room, well, we're not sure what its original purpose was. We tend to practice martial arts and other physical activities in here, when there's bad weather outside. It's also a place where we can allow people to sleep if we have lots of visitors, or there's a crisis or something." Inside, only a few monks of Kor are currently practicing... beating the tar out of each other, from the looks of it. But there is some history visible on the walls, written in older tradespeak, and looking rather worn from age.

Zamir nods with a smile, him moving to put his bowl up as he brings his coffee. "Of course, I really don't want to make a bad impression while I'm here."

His brows raise as the first room is shown off. "Oh, wow. This is really fascinatin'," he hums, quietly sipping on his coffee. Watching the Korites beat the snot out of one another. His attention drifts to the walls, him working on deciphering what he sees upon it. "Quite interestin'. I thought the Korites kept to the Colosseum."

The Goblin simply continues walking through the room, towards the next set of doors.

"Oh, they like this spot because we Navosians, and the Vardamans, will fight back, and hard. They appreciate that. And also, I think some of them get tired of being challenged all the time, when sometimes they just wish to train in peace. A downside to being an adherent to the God of War is that all kinds of people want to challenge you to a fight."

She holds up a finger to her lips. "This next spot is the sleeping area. I wasn't going to take you through it, but I've decided to show you something." The doors lead to a small hallway, with many doors lining the walls.

Simony leads Zamir most of the way, stopping at one door, that looks like all of the others. She leans on the door, pushing it open, showing off a small cell, with a desk, a bed, a night stand and a window. A row of pegs by the door sports a variety of clothing hung up. One of the longer walls has a painting of the Spire, with the monastery in the foreground, and the mountains in the background. A small figure can be seen standing atop the highest part of the Spire. On the opposite wall, a dozen or so paintings. One of a white Egalrin as the central focus, jumping or flying downwards towards the viewer. Other paintings are mostly headshots. An orange and black Sith, a war-golem armed with a khopesh, a scruffy looking man armed with an axe, another man in black armor, and a ruddy coloured Sith.

"Something quiet contemplation has given me, a love of painting."

Zamir ducks through the next doors. "Huh. Interesting. I didn't know that'd they'd give the Korites a run for their coin."

The warning gets him to blink, and he ducks a bit, holding a finger up to his lips. "I understand," he whispers. Ambling along, not even taking a sip of coffee to disturb any sleep. His brows raise as he looks at the collage of paintings. "... oh wow. This is... really quite fascinating, and well done. These all people you know?" he asks quietly.

She gestures with a hand for the man to enter, before moving to shut the door, leaving it open only the slightest crack. "Yes, they are all of people I know. Some quite well, having formed bonds in combat. Others have endeared themselves to me by other means."

The Gobbo slowly crosses her arms, a grin slowly spreading across her lips. "It's quite fascinatin', isn't it... shuuuug?" She adjusts her stance, shifting weight to one foot so that she can tap the other one on the floor.

GAME: Crik rolls disguise: (4)+10: 14

Oh no. Oh no. Why is this room always occupied. A hooded figure was doing his best impression of a stone wall in the shadow by pressing his oddly kilted cloak over his shape and face. It works very well in a passing - and passing it was supposed to be.

The people were an extra complication.

People are always an extra complication. Slowly, the hooded corvid pulls his exposed claws back within his cloak as he attempts to not breathe. For some reason his cloak seems to always fit its surroundings; just the right amount of patchwork - and slowly panicking Crik.

GAME: Slixvah rolls perception: (9)+13: 22

Zimar slips into the room, him looking about with a light smile on his lips as he sets his coffee down. "That is really nice-"

He blinks at her. Blinks again, bright green eyes flicking over to a sky blue. The curious, academic facade drops as he rolls his eyes back and groans. "Oh gods damn it," he rolls. "Here I was doin' so good at it. I had ta have ya at least fooled fo' a bit, yeah?" he offers lamely, cheekily smiling.

Movement? He turns slightly. "... the heck?" he croaks, looking at the living cloak.

The Goblin is not having any of it. "Oh no, not falling for it now.", she says with a grin. "Yes, when you first came up, I did not suspect anything. But afta' a while, I started to clue in."

Simony laughs then and steps closer to punch the 'gentleman' lightly on the upper arm. "I thought I'd show you my room, once I was confident it was you. Just a few less words with the G sounds dropped, and I'd have walked you around the long way to the study area."

The cloak was not living. The cloak was slightly moving. There was no cloak. The wall just kind of shifts every now and then. Black beak slowly tilts as Crik looks towards the 'gentleman' - now also trying to figure out what the topic of conversation was about.

After a moment, a black hand shoots up and starts making signs. Yet those signs were completely incomprehensible for most people who are used to walking on the good and narrow path. And not say, scale the city buildings and alleys.

Zimar tuts, faking rubbing his arm to pretend that punch smarted. "It's hard ta get rid of that slip up, not going ta lie. But I /told/ ya I'm really good at it!" he opines.

Then, more moving, gesturing. Zimar looks back to the moving not-cloak. He huffs, reaches a hand out of the door, and grabs the cloak to pull it in. "Now wuzzis?" he hums.

Simony blinks at what Zimar does, and then slowly begins to roll up her sleeves, revealing hands and forearms that have seen some business before.

"Oh.. you again.", she huffs.

GAME: Crik rolls perception: (8)+11: 19

The moving not-cloak lets out a croak sound as he is pulled into the room, black hands shooting out. "Passingbynothingbutpassing!" A sing song tone of rough bass notes is let out. He did have quite the phrasing in his voice, it appeared. The black eyes look towards Zimar - but still he had no idea who he was staring at.

Yet the feeling of betrayal was there. "... I was passing by to the..." A gesture toward the window. No, back to the door. "That way."

Zimar looks amused at the person he caught. "Is that so? Ya seem really set on hanging out there for a minute. I'm pretty sure ya need an escort back here...."

He releases them. "Better be quite around here, people are sleeeepin'," he shushes.

"I'm willing to accept punishment for the noise he's about to start making.", the Gobbo growls. "Whatever it is you took, better put it back now." Simony moves in on Crik. "You hold him while I search him."

"Quiet is good!" Crik agrees with a nod of his head, "I will sneak out-" Hold on a second - his black eyes turn towards Simony. Then back towards Zimar. Back towards Simony.

And then there's a sudden caw as he attempts to kick up his cloak in distraction and try to retreat the direction of the door.

Zimar gives a nod towards Simony as his face furrows in concentration. Crik throwing up a cloak gets his hands to retract, and he very seamless switches mental gears. A hand gets thrown up to the side, and grips at nothing in the air. Power builds from the motion, and his eyes glow bright. "Igve em a ucoshttr!" he chants, voice reverberating. Then he pulls. A bright white thread is exposed to the air. Zimar twirls it, looping it around himself, then throws it over Simony before he aims it past Crik and gives it a hard whip!

Their forms vanish as a tiny white thread whips past the air, past Crik, and twirls to unravel and reveal Simony and- Slixvah! In the flesh with wings spread wide, cutting off his advance. "Boo~!" she caws, grinning. "Stay still and it'll be simple, hon."

GAME: Slixvah casts Dimension Door. Caster Level: 7 DC: 19

Simony looks surprised as she's suddenly ensnared in a... thread? Of something? When she reappears, she still has the same look on her face. Blinking, she rahs and runs forward, attempting to jump on and cling to Crik.

"Just hold still a moment."

Crik's beak opens as his advance is foiled. By... the corvid Egalrin actually paused for a moment to look at the magic being woven, before he remembers he was supposed to flee. A rightful escape blocked by Slixvah and Simony.

"No, you don't understand-" Crik begins as he holds up his hands. "There is nothing simple. Nothing was taken and I will simply leave quietly?" Hopeful tilt of head.

Slixvah, beak open and grinning, keeps her wings wide and arms splayed out. The feathers on her wings unravel and animate, slowly filling up more space. "Just a quick patdown, shug, and you'll be on ya way," she singsongs. "Hold still and let the little Navosian to her job, yeah?"

The Goblin starts to do some rather aggressive patting, and tks, tuts and sighs, looking at the spaces between the Egalrin and his cloak. Frowning, she huffs. "He's a walking junkpile.", Simony grumbles. She holds up a notebook, that has a string attaching it to Crik. She lets it hang, and pulls up a red book. "Love between the stars." That's dropped quickly, as if it burned. "I have no idea if anything in here is mine or not."

Another huff, and she holds up her hand. "Next time..." Her hand balls into a fist, and the knuckles crack ominously.

He in fact, was. The corvid carried roughly everything from books, keys, knives down to nails, blankets and what seems to be an assortment of round bombs. He even had a whole set of vials with different powders on him. Shaking him a bit more drops yet another set of lockpicks.

Pieces of paper fall out from his cloak from a very worn and weathere book, and the corvid quickly bends down to pick the little fluttering parchments up. Excessively scribbled notes, arcane symbols. A tower. What looks like an eyrie. More mad scribbling.

"Did not take anything. Passing through." Crik reassures, quickly making everything disappear again. Hunched over, he looks between Slix and Simony. "I apologize for interrupting the date." Black beady eyes exhibit no emotion.

Slixvah holds her position as Simony gives Crik the pat down. But she can't help but snort at that. "Ain't a date, hon," she chuckles, unfazed. "Just gettin' a tour. Anywho. Ya should proooooolly get outta here, or at least, back to the foyer without an escort."

She folds her feathers and wings back, her resting on her back foot. "Go on, make your grand escape, Crik," she snickers.

The Gobbo blinks. "Date? What?" She frowns and gives Crik the one finger wave.

Crik doesn't seem to be fazed by the snickering either - instead just bopping his head down and up. The corvid takes a quick look around - before moving to hop off the window like every good rogue would.

A piece of paper still remained on the floor; a tiny sketch of what looks like the inside of an eyrie, with repeated question marks. "Where are they?" "Why did they disappear?" "Who took them?" in scribbled Egalrin; and plenty of crossed over nonsensical words.

Slix waves as he bounces off, but she looks down at the paper. Brow quirked. She scoops it up and quietly reads it to herself. "... huh..." she croons. "... seems like tha' lad's gots some mo' 'bout him than we thoughts..."