Eyes half closed, I stare sleepily across the main room of the inn into the fire crackling merrily on the hearth. A warm meal, a hot tub of water and a good night's sleep on a lumpy mattress sounds infinitely better than my recent sad lack of roofed accommodations. My purse is slim, but adequate, and I have high hopes of a significant addition to the remainder of my wages before the sun rises.I search the room with a sweeping glance wondering if the party I am to meet is already here somewhere among the gruff and grubby patrons lounging on benches or bellied up to the bar.
I rise hastily and sketch a bow. "T'is I, would you join me?" I catch the barman's eye, and note the quick gleam of avarice as he reconsiders the likely take for my table.
I wait until the barmaid returns with the lady's drink before taking another sip of my ale."I'm honored. And curious who would send one such as you to this godsforsaken establishment at the ass-end of nowhere."
"Funds are always welcome, provided they don't come at too high a cost to my hide." Though I ignore the implications behind the word "flexible", I do wonder what she's heard about the elasticity of my morals when it comes to a paying side job.
I study the lady quizzically, wondering if she's to be trusted, and what her true purpose is, and for that matter, what group or person she represents. "May I know your name? And what can you tell me about this artifact? Where do you think it is? Do these soldiers know their business?"[Insight 1d20+9 = 12+9 = 21perception 1d20+7 = 13+7 = 20]
I sigh and lean back against the wall behind my bench. I see an opportunity, perhaps, to turn a handier profit than I'd hoped."Necromantic. I wasn't told this job would involve undead sorcery. Ancient undead sorcery, no doubt. Nasty business. And costly."If there's any more information, any at all, you could share, it might be key in helping me accomplish your goals."[Dipolmacy: 1d20 +12 = 8+12=20]
My pulse quickens a little as I contemplate 2000 galifars, but I try to look unimpressed. In my misspent youth, I'd not have blinked at losing so much on a throw at the table. These days, though, t'would put me well on my way to reconciliation if I chose, or to whatever future I might desire. "And the hazard bonus?"
Then, a sign of sentient life - a farmstead that is undergoing construction, not decomposition. You hear it before you see it, the sound of trees being felled and nails hammered. When you crest a hill, you spot a clearing ahead that is too geometric to be natural, with a small but sound cabin of yellowish barely-weathered wood planks in the middle of it, and a few barely-distinguishable-at-this-distance figures moving around. You could easily ride on past unnoticed, if you wanted.
The lady acquiesced so easily, I wonder if I've been played. Played again, I remind myself wryly. It's too late to wrest more coin, no doubt."Skeleton Hand. Scepter of Shadows." Titles like these might be bestowed on dozens of artifacts on any hillside or under the rubble of any ruin.I wrack my memory, trying to bring some focus to elusive rumors I dimly recall.[history 1d20+10 = 20+10 = 30]
"Good points." I raise my voice slightly to include the others. "Well? Anyone? Why would a bunch of well-armed people on clawfoots be travelling out here? I've a feeling we look to be exactly what we are, despite our mm lack of special jewelry. Mercenaries maybe?"
I nod at the mercenaries suggestion as well. "Mercenaries are gonna look after their own stuff, you know," I comment as we start heading for the farmstead. "Cept the leader, maybe. But it'd look weird if I was seeing to the lizards and laying beds and all that for all of us. Speaking of looking weird, is the ghost coming up to the house with us?"