In preparation of the Vineyard Games, Lady Medeia had hired two ships to transport interested guests from the capital to Saikland Greens. Hers had departed a couple days before the second, arriving in Saikland uneventfully, where the lady set herself to the task of coordinating the setup of festivities. The second ship, however, found itself waylaid into the Bay of Lenosia by a storm and caught up in a surprising case of mistaken ship identity.

After unexpectedly being boarded by a ship commanded by a woman owing fealty to another Lycene barony, and some minor bloodshed amid a clash of arms, it was discovered that she had meant to board a different ship belonging to a pirate that had been giving her holding quite a headache. With some grumbling - this was meant to be a vacation, after all, they joined forces and took out the pirate ship. Now, everyone has reached Saikland Greens, been shown to their lodgings, and given a schedule of optional events that Medeia has arranged to fill the time before the Vineyard Games officially begin.

On this fine summer morning, breakfast has been cleared away and notice has been given that a fencing demonstration would be given in the gardens. A servant awaits anyone who wishes to attend in the entrance hall in order to lead them to the correct spot.

Ian puts Basket-hilted Rubicund Sword in Oiled leather bag.

Ian gets Heavy Cane from Oiled leather bag.

Jan leans back and tilts her head back to allow a roar of a belch escape her. Looking full and content her head turns to study the servant and then rises sloooowly as if she'd doubled her weight with breakfast and it took extra effort to stand "Surely we're not missing this one, my lords?"

Well, through thick and thin, Gaspard managed to keep his head on his shoulders, seen to his own lodgings, and...still wearing platemail. How very oathlander of him. Head to toe in gleaming white diamondplate platemail, Gaspard appears entirely comfortable. Looking around, he takes stock of the room with a scrutinizing, perceptive eye, having already eaten several plates worth of breakfast, and he stands in the entrance hall, ready and sure to be seeing this fencing competition.

Pasquale is bright and early to the meeting. Idling near the servant and spending far to long studying the furnishings here in the entrance hall. He seems almost glad when Gaspard arrives. "Sleep well Gaspard?" His eyes linger on Jan for a moment before he offers a friendly nod.

Ian is wrapped in maybe slightly less of a dark pall than he has been (he's on vacation, after all), probably owing more to familiar, friendly company and less to the food, which he eats sparingly. He rises and takes up his cane without comment, but presumably intending to follow along. In the warm Lycene summer, he's left his steelsilk-lined coat behind in his room, a choice which he will certainly not regret later.

Peering down at Pasquale, Gaspards masculine, chiseled features brighten into an utterly brilliant, charming smile with dimples to boot. "Like a baby - Lord General Pasquale....If you're here, we're due for a good time, without doubt." He commends the man easily, starting to squint around and spot face to face. Ian, Jan, also get a radiant smile and firm nod, "Well, trouble has all arrived. What's in store?"

"Hopefully no trouble," Ian says to Gaspard without conviction. "I'm supposed to be on vacation."

Jan bobs her head and offers a fingerwave to Pasquale. Gaspard is given a polite dip of her chin and a crooked grin, "Watching nimble people poke at each other with giant needles." She doesn't say it with words but Ian is given a fleeting look of open disbelief.

"Kind of you Gaspard." Pasquale says "But I share Ian's hopes. The Baroness deserves to have her festival go smoothly." He smiles a little towards Jan and her fingerwave. "Morning Jan."

Loosening a grunt, Gaspard goes on to say, "And, with me here, it certainly will! Point me in the direction of pirates, enjoy your tea and honey..."

The servant, a sun-tanned man of middling years, just going silver at the temples of his dark hair and sporting a neat goattee, gives the assembled nobles a bow. His eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles at them. "My lord, my lady, I trust you are well and rested? If you will follow me, I will lead you through the gardens to the fencing demonstration. I am certain you will find the skill of our people to be impressive." Tha man's voice is pleasantly deep and cultured - giving just enough of the Lycene accent that you know he is a native of the southern lands, but he sounds as if he has been in service to nobles for decades. Once he is sure everyone is ready, he steps out of the keep and into the sun, walking with graceful purpose.

The Saikland gardens are lush. Truly a testament to the agricultural leanings of this find barony, the paths are lined with fragrant and vivid blooms that could put the botanical garden in Arx to shame. The path the group is led on is long, heading down the sloping hill of the land toward the rolling vineyards. A crowd has gathered, but when the group arrives, it sounds as though the murmurings are concerned. Or confused. Someone can be heard saying, "I thought there was to be a demonstration?" The servant's brow furrows, and he presses through the group of a dozen or so people to see that... There is nothing and no one there to demonstrate anything.

"Oh dear." Pasquale murmurs when the confusion becomes evident. "It seems you might have to step up." he glances to the three nobles with him before folding his hands lightly atop his own cane. Not that he bears any trace of a limp this morning. "It wouldn't do to let the people down."

Making to move with the servant, Gaspard remains silent, but more than happy to follow along. Moving on through with the servant, he observes the surrounding area with a thoughtful, impressed expression. "Better than the garden I keep back at home!" He muses, "Though, mine -is- geared to cooking." He comments, as they walk. Then he frowns faintly at what is being spoken, looking around. "Well." He then offers with a bit of a mischevious grin, "Lord Ian and Lady Jan would be more than willing to give a demonstration."

Ian misses most of the view (well, almost all of it, really) on the way over to the gardens, owing to paying attention to his own footsteps as they pass over the uneven ground so he doesn't trip without realizing it, and the scent of the blooming flowers is almost certainly wasted on him. He does stop and look up at the sound of voices towards the end of their trek. Then he looks at Gaspard. "Wait, what?"

Jan frowns gently. She issues a sharp, piercing whistle to get the crowd's attention and rather than asking the gaggle as a whole a hand lifts and finger juts out to indicate an individual in the group "You there. What's afoot?" with the air of someone that expects an answer.

Winking towards Ian with a twin jewel of an azure, gold-rimmed eye, Gaspard murmurs, "Shhhh. Just let it happen. Everybody would lose their shit if they got to see a war hero in action!"

Pasquale murmurs "Says the War Hero who volunteered the other."

The servant is peering along the paths, and up the hill of gardens, looking to see if the demonstators are simply running late. As he scans, the person Jan asked shrugs lazily. "There is nothing afoot, as you can see." The woman gestures at the empty clearing to emphasize her point.

"What, me?" Ian is only very gradually getting with the game here. "Why don't you do it?"

Jan ooohs and waves a hand, "Lord Gaspard Blackram, in his infinite generosity has just offered to give a demonstration, perhaps one of you might assist him?" She looks towards Pasquale under her breath "Do we care that there are at least two people who are apparently missing?"

Laughing genuinely at Jans words, his eyes wrinkle with faint amusement. "Oh, I'm not lifting a finger. I am retired, my knees are not the same in my thirties." He keeps light of the situation, all the while taking stock of it too. "I am no war hero." He says seriously aside to Pasquale.

Pasquale looks along the paths after Jan asks the question of the hour. "I assume they are just drunk." he admits "But I suppose it would be the right thing to go and check." he shifts his gaze to Gaspard and Ian. He shakes his head in amused disbelief "Ian and I are both using canes and you're complaining about your knees Gaspard?" He lifts his cane and gestures towards the path. "Since its clear non of us want to take over. Lets go haul a couple of drunkards out their cups shall we?"

"Where are the people who're supposed to be here?" Ian is definitely still just trying to get out of being voluntold into a fencing demonstration. And then, when Pasquale, knowingly or unknowingly, backs him up, he adds: "Yes. We should, uh, go find them."

Jan shrugs and wonders towards the crowd "Anyone know who was supposed to give the demonstration? What are their names, what do they look like, or where might we find them?" she fishes hopefully.

The gathered dozen or so people are, if not actually useless, currently no help at all to the situation. They're /also/ on vacation. Or at east on a break. They all seem to be people of the village surrounding the Saik keep, having turned out in their best clothes for the diversion of martial exhibition. And with no demonstration being made, they all begin to drift away, back toward the village. One couple does linger long enough to respond to the queries. "They are visiting from Gemecitta." The pair at least manages to look apologetic. "I am sorry, that is all we know, they have been in the village only a day or two, keeping mostly to themselves. I think they are staying at the Lily." Then they walk away, too, leaving the group with the servant at the empty clearing.

Rolling his eyes, Gaspard invokes the attention of the duel instructor. "Yes, you knew them. What can you tell us of them? Their schedules day to day....did kids intervene? Are they missing this for some other opportunity? What angle do the two of them have by missing this event? Making several guests displeased seems a bit too malicious and alot of effort to stimy plans of a dueling demonstration." He pauses. "Lily it is." He looks to the group. "We don't get paid enough for this!" In obvious joke.

"A couple of drunk fencers aren't going to be hard to track down," Ian declares, with a level of certainty that surely is not going to be ironic, in retrospect.

Jan draws in a deep breath "Great. Just because you didn't want to wiggle an oversized needle around we have to go roaming about looking for a fucking inn and find two drunks in a collection of drunks with no way to identify them. Way to go, Lord Gaspard."

Glancing aside at Jan with a small squint, then a broad grin, "Is everything my fault with you? Lady Jan, you should hold everyone else here accountable too!" He chuckles good-naturedly, "Adventureee." Then he pauses, waggling his brows, "Treassuree. I came here to have fun, so loosen up! You didn't have your whiskey in the morning, did you?"

Pasquale looks to the instructor as Gaspard asks questions of him.

"YOU could have wiggled oversized needles around," Ian counters to Jan, with what is getting dangerously close to being petulance.

The servant shakes his head at the assembled nobles. "You could..." He's trying to think on his feet to find a solution which would please the distinguished guests and finding himself exasperated as they speak of going off to find the fencers. He mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like he has compared the group to one Lady Neilda Saik - for better or worse. "If you are to leave the grounds, you should follow the path west, it will wind down to the market. The Lily is the inn just at the edge of the market and Merchant Quarters - the neighborhood where the well off commoners make their homes."

Jan looks to Ian "Cousin, I adore you, but we both knew that was never going to happen. Besides: you're missing the bright side. No one knows who these schmucks are or what they look like. If we get exasperated we'll just designate two hapless fencers. Problem solved." She looks up and nods "Thank you for the directions."

Pasquale nods to the servant. "Thank you." he starts towards the western path.

"Aren't great leaders never supposed to volunteer other people for things they're not willing to do, themselves?" Ian asks Jan, bickering into the sunset as everyone starts down the path.

Something that is not immediately apparent about Saikland Greens until you are within the village proper is that it is /packed/ with people. Far more people than one might expect to live in such a small space. When the group arrives at the market, the square is bustling with activity. Merchants haggle with shoppers, children dash between legs, fabrics are draped on display and fruits are piled high in baskets, and all the noise rivals that of a much larger locale - like Southport, perhaps. Even so, it is easy to spot the Lily: the building painted white stone with gold-like trim, and climbs a stately four stories high. Beyond it, the well-kept homes of wealthier commoners can be seen. Inside, the clientele is quieter than the market, with a handful of people enjoying a late breakfast. The innkeeper is leaning against a counter - a plump, elder woman dressed in low-tier silks.

Pasquale pauses briefly to allow a small child to hurtle past before once more resuming along their path. "That is a myth." he tells Ian. "An excuse for reckless fame seekers to use whenever they want to replace the true experts." he nods to another shopper as they make space for them to pass. "I don't know why you all have such an issue with demonstrating your skills. You are both exceptional."

Elexa the reliable apprentice dressmaker arrives, delivering a message to Pasquale before departing.

Jan snorts "I am not in charge of anyone here. When did I ever claim to be a great leader? When was the last time you shit? Gods, you're so funking cranky. When we get this sorted we're finding you something with a little damn fiber in it." She surveys the situation and observes succinctly "Fuck."

Gaspard, ruminates in the theme provided by the locale, a serious expression taking him being surrounded by so many people. Clearly on guard, he attempts to loosen his broad, boxy shoulders some, slouch them a touch, barely managing a faint smile to grace his full lips, toying at the ends of each corner. Azure, gold-rimmed eyes gravitate around, slowly but surely, and a few individuals are greeted when manners demand response. He navigates the crowd with seeming ease, finding ground with the common people to blend in, while offering almost nothing in return, even if he looms overhead. Eventually he's found in the Lily, attention settling on the Innkeeper calmly.

"Whose side are you on?" Ian demands of Pasquale. He draws up short at the sheer chaos of a crowd this big, everyone doing their own things, everyone trying to do it over the sound of all the other people also doing their own things. This puts him in the back of the group as everyone approaches the Lily, and this makes his final grumble a little bit less audible: "I don't like doing show fights."

The Northern lord had come over on the boat but since hitting land he not been seen really, but this morning he is about. Buying a few things in the market he was heading for the inn, you may not see his face but who else walks around in leathers with a bow on his back like that and come really it is a nice back side view! He nods to the Inn keep speaking to her in his thick Northern accent. He shakes his head at something and his hells sing softly that are tied in his hair.

Pasquale looks to Ian "Mine?" Theres a nod "So why didn't you want to show off Gaspard?"

Gaspard grunts, taking this rather seriously, "When is there /ever/ a need?"

"You heard him." Ian motions towards Gaspard's knees, still in high bicker with Pasquale, because apparently pointless arguments are how he likes to spend his vacations. "He's got bad knees or something." No conviction there. He's not even TRYING to lie. Just parroting what Gaspard said in the tone of someone parroting something that he knows is ridiculous.

Jan scans the establishment "Soo, start kicking in doors and demanding to know if the occupants are fencers or can we get a drink first?"

A little blond girl squeels and runs to Cillian wrapping her little arms around the mans leg, he blinks and looks down a bright smile coming to his lips. Putting the things down he scoops the child up in his arms and hugs her close to his chest. "Hello, little one." he says in his thick accent. He looks and spots the group, his hazel eyes watch them for a long moment. Then his lips press to the small Childs forehead. "little lily, I am happy you are here. We will have to meet up later little one, go on go back to mommy." he puts the child down, breathing in as he does and the child goes running off. He looks back to the group, "Hello." he gives them all smile in greetings.

Pasquale looks at Jan and shakes his head, amused again. "Its an inn. I think we can just walk in."

Gaspard checks perception at normal. Gaspard is successful.

Ian checks perception at normal. Ian is successful.

Pasquale checks perception at normal. Pasquale marginally fails.

Cillian checks perception at normal. Cillian fails.

Jan checks perception at normal. Jan is successful.

Even distracted by his pointless argument, Ian can't help but scan every room he walks into, and so it is with this one. His eyes move fast, taking in everything with a quick sweep, even while he's talking. "For fuck's sake, Jan, you -lead- the corsairs and you're going to tell me... Wait. Is that Lord Cillian?" A pause. His demeanor has slowly started to shift, becoming more alert, more wary. "And why is it so quiet in here?"

Jan offers a wave towards Lord Cillian "Hello there Stranger." She frowns then and scans the area, "It does..." She spies the bartender and says something softly only those immediately near her can hear "That bartender looks like she's got her tit slammed in a drawer, I'm going to have a drink. And a word." She shoulders on up towards the bar, peering behind the bar if she can and scanning the other occupants at the bar proper.

Spying Cillian, Gaspard puts on a faint smile. "Lord Cillian! Good of you to join us, we're just..." He looks over the Inn. "Well, looking for a pair of individuals.."

Pasquale gives Lilly a brief half smile. "Hello again Lilly."

WHen Jan approaches the bar, the innkeeper perks up, standing straight and giving the lady a warm welcome. "Hello, welcome to the Lily. How may I serve you?"

"Lord Ian, Lady Jan a pleasure as always." he looks to the walking war, "Lord Gaspard." there is a tense smile given in return and then his eyes look over, "Lord Pasquale, it is good to see you." Lilly looks to Pasquale and wiggles fingers at him before running off to a woman in the market. His eyes follow her then look back to the group, "Looking for individuals?"

"We were," Ian says to Cillian in a low voice, pitched to carry only to his immediate surroundings. "I'm not sure what we've found, instead." A look back towards the door and then at the interior of the inn makes it clear that he's mentally contrasting the quiet in here with the chaos out there. He starts through the room, seeking a place where he can put his back to a wall and keep the whole area in view, especially any doors that might lead to a back room. These, if they exist, are his focus, and especially how many people are looking at them.

Jan ahhhs "How about whiskey for my friends and I?" She fishes out silver enough to pay for quadruple the whiskey she actually order, "We're looking for some friends that came in from Gemecitta. Fencers. Don't reckon you've seen them about?"

The people finishing up their late rbeakfasts all seem to care very little about the group that walked in. And none even perk up when Jan mentions who they are looking for. The innkeeper, however, frowns as she pours several cups of whiskey. "Those boys were talking about their big demonstration to anyone who would listen, last night. I assume they already headed out to it. I haven't seen them all morning." The cups are pushed gently across the bartop. "Is something wrong?"

Cillian nods his head, "I see." he looks at Gaspard for a moment then turns to follow Ian in and to find a seat, his voice lowered so it stays between the group. "Think something happened to these individuals then?" he looks around his hazel eyes looking around the Inn.

Silent, Gaspard tags along with the group, making to linger somewhat near Ian at a wall. He lets Jan do the talking.

After hearing the innkeeper speak Pasquale says "It seems they missed their event. We were hoping they might be here. Do you have any idea why that might have happened? Were they drinking heavily or drowning in haze last night?"

Jan tilts her head "When was the last time you saw them? They didn't show up to the demonstration."

The innkeeper bristles at the mention of haze. "This is an upstanding establishment, my lord." Even through her offense, she casts her eyes back toward the kitchen, obscured by a door. When she looks back at the group, she says, "That's a shame, they missed it. You can go see if they're in their room? Third floor, second door on the left."

Pasquale Malespero, mildly offending people wherever he goes. Pasquale gives the innkeep a nod "It does look to be. Thank you." he looks to the others. "See. No doors needed kicking."

Ian doesn't make a move to climb the stairs, preferring to stay where he is rather than take the difficult (for him) journey to the top.

Glancing about, Gaspard sighs dramatically. "If you need me to kick a door, my knees can take it." With a somewhat amused smile at his own shitty joke.

Jan looks over her shoulder "You say that like it's a good thing. I like kicking in doors." She downs her whiskey and pushes away from the bar to begin to trot upstairs to where the barkeep directed them.

Pasquale gestures towards the stairs after Gaspard makes his joke. "Ian and I are going to preserve our knees and stay right here for now. Do scream if you need help."

"I mean..." Ian eyes the stairs for a moment. "Not that help's going to be very fast arriving."

The innkeeper goes back to leaning against the counter, her position somewhat blocking the view of the kitchen door. The stairs are many, but they're strudy and well-lit from open windows letting sunlight stream in. On the third floor, the second door on the left is closed. No sign of anything amiss can be seen.

Cillian looks between Jan and Gaspard, he knows how small Inns can be. "If there is going to be doors needing kicked in, I will let the both of you go. There be little to no room move about with the Wall up there with ya." He leans in to speak softly to both Ian and Pasquale though.

Gaspard gestures to Jan, "Be my guest!"

Ian is DEFINITELY getting increasingly interested in that kitchen door. His sharp gaze comes back to it more often than it touches on anywhere else in the room. "Do you know this inn very well?" He asks Cillian, in a low voice.

Jan knocks on the door "Housekeeping!"

There is no answer at the door.

Jan checks perception at normal. Jan is successful.

Pasquale must be off his game or something because he still seems somewhat oblivious to the clues. The innkeeper moves suspiciously and yet his gaze is tilted upwards towards where Jan and Gaspard have so recently climbed the stairs.

Faintly, there is the sound of something scuffing against the floor in the room.

Cillian shakes his head as he speaks to them both, "No, was told that they had good breakfast here. Other then that, but did you see how she looked at the kitchen when Jan was talking to her?" he says in a low voice just loud enough for the three.

Jan tries the door "I can hear something." she announces to those behind her. If it's locked she'll step back and send a heel of a booted foot right beside the handle or knob.

Ready for when that booted foot hits the door, Gaspard remains.

Ian nods to Cillian. "There's trouble in here, and it's probably not upstairs." He detaches himself from the wall, still murmuring low. "They'll need a door for deliveries. Let's go see if we can take a peek." Whether Cillian and Pasquale are in the mood to follow along or not, Ian's on his way out the door.

Something about Cillian's words make Pasquale look towards the innkeeper and then back to Cillian and Ian again "That sounds like a plan." He moves to shadow Ian.

Thankfully, and perhaps oddly, the door is not locked. When Jan opens it, she is able to immediately see that the window is flung open to let in fresh air and morning sun. The bed looks slept in, the thin blanket thrown back from someone getting out from under it recently. The way the door opens blocks most of the rest of the room unless one steps in. A "Mmphff!" Sounds comes from the other side.

Back downstairs, it's easy enough to find another doorway into the inn once outside and circling the building. There's a gated and fenced area that hosts some chickens (for eggs) and herbs. Within, there is a door that is partly open that appears to go to the kitchen.

Cillian knows Jan and Gaspard can handle things upstairs so he nods his head moving to follow Ian and Pasquale, as they do he moves to take the bow from his back and hold it in his hand. He wants to be ready just incase something happens, he is ready and not caught off guard.

Jan squeezes through the door, sucking in her gut to manage as she peeks cautiously behind the door, "I didn't bring a knife, you got one Lord Gaspard?"

Gaspard procures a knife for Jan from a thigh-sheath, offering it silently.

Ian's manner is, on the surface, very casual as he opens the gate and starts for the kitchen door like someone who has every right to be exactly where he is. It'd take someone who knew him pretty well to see in the stillness of his demeanor that he's on his guard. He doesn't bother knocking, just opens the door.

On the floor of the room upstairs is a single male, bound and gagged. He's wide-eyed and begins to try to speak through the wad of fabric supressing his speech.

Downstairs, Ian opens the door of the kitchen to a similar sight, except there are multiple bound people. From their appearances, it looks to be the husband, daughter, and a teen granddaughter of the innkeeper.

Pasquale doesn't draw a weapon but then he does have his magpie topped cane in hand and if it comes down to it he can always thwack someone, or something, with the weapon. He stays at the rear of the small group going towards the kitchen, asking "Do you want me to watch the door" after Ian steps inside.

Jan kneels down and tugs the gag loose and uses the knife loose "The fuck is going on, eh? " She drags the man away freom the door so the massive frame of Gaspard can enter.

"Shit," Ian says at the sight of the bound people in the kitchen. His gaze flicks to the door to the main room, and then he scans the kitchen itself. "Keep an eye on the alley," he agrees with Pasquale. "Lord Cillian, we need to talk to the man. Something was keeping that woman from asking us for help. I'd like to know what." If Cillian doesn't have a knife to cut the cloth gag off, Ian will toss him his diver's knife. He himself is keeping a close eye on the room, like he's expecting possible trouble from somewhere inside.

Working his way in, Gaspard sweeps the room. "The fuck..." Then he looks to the window. "Shit. They are moving." He rushes over.

"Done." Pasquale says softly before moving back towards the gate and sitting himself on the wall. Attempting to look like he just happened to decide to stop here for a break.

When freed of the bounds, the man in the room upstairs gushes with gratitude for Jan and Gaspard. "ThankyousomuchohfuckI'msogladyou'rehere." He shakes his arms and rubs his hands and wrists together to get the blood flowing back through his extremities. "I thought I'd be stuck like that for days until the innkeeper came to kick us - me - out for overstaying." He frowns, then. "Have you caught him, then?"

In the kitchen, the family members are wary and relieved of being let go. They're quiet, too, not offering anything up until asked. They all look toward the kitchen door, fearful.

"Where are they?" Ian's question to the innkeeper's husband is curt and not particularly friendly, a result of the fact that he's not very friendly, and also that Isles accent isn't doing him any favors in that department. An accent like his is practically designed to turn everything he says into a threat.

Jan looks after Gaspard, "Well don't just watch, go after the taint-rainsin!" She looks towards the man she untied, "Why'd he tie you up? How many are there? What do they look like?" the barrage of questions no doubt is answer enough to his questions.

Moving swiftly, Gaspard tries to climb out and down to chase....assailants?

Cillian nods taking the knife from Ian and moves it and starts to free the family from their bonds, he reassures each one as they are freed they will not be harmed that they are there to help. Helping them up off the ground he looks over to Ian as he starts to ask the questions, his eyes keep eye on the kitchen now as Ian talks to the family.

Outside, a fellow is walking along, whistling, with a small sack slung over his shoulder. He's strolling directly toward the back of the inn, giving Pasquale a casual nod in passing. When he reaches the gate and sees the kitchen door open, he stops, mutters, "Oh shit," and turns quickly to start running back the way he came.

Pasquale flips a coin and it lands on heads.

Gaspard checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Gaspard is successful.

Pasquale hops off the wall "Stop!" he calls after the man followed by a quick. "I'm moving." and then, for probably the first time ever, Pasquale breaks into a run after the other man.

Pasquale checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Jan siighs and watches all the running. She tells the man, "Stay here, keep quiet, Can you tell me anything else about what's going on or the limp-noddled fish-fucker that did this to you?"

Ian glances towards the door, as the commotion just outside answers at least part of his question before the husband can. Unlike Pasquale (and presumably Cillian), he can't run, so he looks back at the husband. "Just the one? Or do we need to worry about more?"

Pasquale has been doing a lot of running these last few weeks and it really shows. He gains a little bit of ground, a little more, and then seems to decide that running around the town for the rest of the day would be stupid. A knife finds its way into his hand before being thrown -just- in front of the running man. "Next one goes into your back if you don't stop!"

Hitting the ground, Gaspard bolts off, trying to catch up as quickly as he can.

Pasquale checks dexterity and intimidation at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Cillian looks to the door then to Ian looking at the husband, "Please answer, we need to know so we can help you and make sure our friends are not over whelmed doing so." he hands the knife back to Ian as he stands there looking over them all, it may not help that Cillian also has a very thick accent.

In the upstairs room, the man offers, "My friend... Former friend? We came here for the festivities, to do some showing off, but he had other plans I wasn't a part of." He shrugs, looking betrayed.

In the kitchen, the family starts to explain quietly to Ian and Cillian that a man forced them all the comply, and the innkeeper was to give cover or he'd kill her and the family members. They weren't sure what he needed cover for.

Jan ahahs "Clearly. Don't suppose you know /anything/ about those plans? Clearly he thought you did if he bothered to tie you up."

Ian looks out the door to see that Pasquale seems to have things well in hand, and then looks back to the family that Cillian has cut free. "We'll make sure he doesn't bother any of you again." He angles his head towards the door to the main room, a silent invitation for them to go.

Cillian nods his head as he looks out the door watching and then looks back to Ian as he okays them to leave, he moves to put his bow back on his back. He shakes his head watching the family waiting to see if they go or not.

Upstairs, the man shakes his head. "No. He was one his way out when I woke up. I asked him where he was off to, to bring me some breakfast if he was doing that, and he walloped me." Upon closer inspection, it /does/ look like the man put up a fight before being bested and hogtied.

In the kitchen, the family hears the man and the chase outside, and they quickly make their exit through the interior kitchen door. The innkeeper can be heard exclaiming her surprise and fear at seeing them, but her husband reassures her before the door closes and muffles their exchange.

Outside, the man does stop and, thanks to the forces of nature - and Gaspard, gets slammed into by the giant Oathlander and goes sprawling onto the dirt alley. The sack he was carrying skitters off t the side.

"Nicely done Gaspard." Pasquale is somewhat out of breath, truth be told, but he doesn't seem to be struggling when he gathers up the sack and collect his knife. The only knife he actually has on his belt. "Lets take him back?"

Jan huhs, "Well that seems needless." She rises and peers out the door before exiting and trotting down the stairs and making her own way towards the kitchen.

Either landing on, or slamming into, Gaspard meets his match and bodies the fellow, armor and all, huffing out from exertion.

"Jan." Seeing her poking into the kitchen, Ian motions towards the door to the alley just before stepping out of it.

The Northern lord moves to follow Ian, his eyes scanning about as they leave the kitchen just incase he is not alone and someone else is about waiting for him, the scout in him kicking in.

With everyone now outside, Gaspard is able to properly apprehend the man. Pasquale open the sack to find it stuffed full of valuables, fine jewelry he pilfered from somewhere.

Jan follows Ian "According to the man tied up in the room the Turd-sucking goat-groper responsible for whatever the fuck is going on was one of the men from Gemecitta. Also when you ever have to tell Gaspard to pursue make sure you sure you tell him to use the fucking stairs."

Pasquale looks at Jan and then chuckles, hefting the bad. "So let me get this clear." he says. Looking mostly at the rest of the group. "This thief" He lifts the bag and shakes it just enough to make the metal inside tinkle. "just held that whole inn hostage?"

"He prefers to take the direct approach, in my experience," Ian comments to Jan. He's not really in a hurry to catch up at this point. It's pretty clear Pasquale and Gaspard have it well in hand. "I assume he went out the window. Did he open it first?" He shrugs to Pasquale. "That's what it looks like. I'm not sure why he'd have to go that far. Seems like a good way to make sure people remember your face."

All in all, Gaspard laughs. "So I did all that for a bag of goodies?"

Pasquale checks perception and streetwise at normal. Pasquale is successful.

Cillian looks at Gaspard and knocks on his armor, "YOu did it, cause was the right thing to do." he comments looking to Pasquale, "I don't know, it seems to much for just that." he moves over to look at the sack.

Cillian checks perception and investigation at normal. Cillian is successful.

"It does doesn't it." Pasquale muses. Soon after that he makes a space and tips the sack out so that he, Cillian, and whoever, can have a better look.

Ian checks perception and streetwise at normal. Ian is successful.

Jan checks perception and streetwise at normal. Jan marginally fails.

Jan chortles "It was already open but gods it's nice to have someone who makes me look measured and restrained by comparison. As for the situation, I have no fucking clue what's going on. I don't see how one man does all this by himself."

Ian doesn't actually kneel down to look through the pilfered goods, but he watches while everyone else sorts through them, maybe nudging something aside once using the tip of his cane. His eyebrows climb at the sight of the goods, and then his gaze shifts to the man. "You were going to kill them?" His voice is flat, even neutral. "You couldn't afford to take stuff like this and risk them remembering you."

Cillian moves to kneel down coming across a locket, "Hey, Pasquale look." he stands up holding the locket up, "It has initials in it, "G.S." he looks over to Ian then the man on the ground a frown coming across his face, he does not look very happy at the moment.

"Just the one?" Pasquale lifts his head from sifting through the items when she says that "Are you sure there aren't more? This one was just walking on by pretending to mind his own business. The only reason I knew he was involved was because he ran once he saw we were in the kitchen." he leans back in to look at the jewelry again when Cillian points towards the initials "I doubt they got this from the Lily. In fact, I bet Neilda will know exactly who that G.S is."

"Wasn't going to kill anyone if they all cooperated," The man says bitterly. He did, in fact, work alone. Gaspard can tell from the grip he has on him that the man is quite the skilled athlete - slim and wiry though he may be, there's strength enough to overpower some random innkeeps and another, less skilled, duelist.

"The man we talked to in the kitchen said 'him', not 'them'." Ian responds to Pasquale. "Pretty sure he was going back there to clean up loose ends. No reason not to make a run for the port, otherwise." Then he looks down at the man. "There were kids tied up in that room."

Jan shakes her head, "Let's get him to whoever's responsible for issuing justice in this town and enjoy some booze from the tavern."

Gaspard frowns faintly, maintaining a solid grip on the man, firm, ready. "If, right. Because whenever does that go to plan?"

"Why go back at all?" Pasquale asks the man but the question seems mostly rhetorical as he nods to Jan's comment about finding the justice and then shakes his head at the second. "You just had breakfast."

Cillian being a father and his daughter just being in that Inn Cillian hands Pasquale the locket, he stalks over to the man there is a dangerous look in the Northern mans eyes. He balls a fist up, anyone who could do such a thing to a kid needs a good ass kicking in the mans eyes.

Ian makes a study of Not Noticing the violence that may or may not be impending. "Well. All's well that ends well. We'll hand this asshole over to the local guards and see if one of the Saiks knows who all this stuff belongs to."

Jan gives Pasquale a look, "Breakfast. There's always room for whiskey." She eyes Cillian "You alright there, Lord Cillian?"

The man insists he wasn't going to kill anyone. Whatever asskicking he receives is likely justified. When finally turned over to the guards of Saikland, he's muttering about just wanting to get away with enough to set him on the path to being the most famous sword-showman, touring the Compact. Eventually, it comes out that he figured he could steal from the nobles of a barony and get away with it easier than anywhere else.

In the end, the jewelry is returned to the owner - Giovanna Saik, mother to Neilda and Medeia. The lady and her lord husband live in a cottage on the grounds of the keep, out of the way of most guests, and also the guards.

As Cillian draws his hand back, Pasquale softly says. "You don't want to lower yourself to his level Cillian." Physically though he does nothing. Instead gathering all the jewelry, including the locket, back up into the sack.

Cillian stops before he nails the man in the face, he growls lowly looking at him. He nods his head and sighs shaking his head turning away, he been under a lot of pressure as he looks to the others and sighs.

Jan pats Cillian's shoulder, "Wanna go find something to beat the shit out of, Lord Cillian?"

Cillian is overheard praising Medeia.

Jan is overheard praising Gaspard.