Just Keep Fishing

There stands before you a somewhat singed looking mage. His robes once fine garments, they show now some signs of wear and tear, mostly from the burns that touch the hem and sleeves. He does his best in spite of his beleaguered appearance to look somewhat bored with this task he has been given. Which is nominally - telling you why you're here.

As you stand in the room, you can't help but notice that there is some kind of very annoying music playing, the source of which you can not find. It seems that it's a voice humming. A higher-toned voice repeating the same sequence over and over again. Occasionally the mage's eye twitches.

"You are here, because I am in need of a specific item for a spell reagent. Very important." His lip quirks downward and he pulls a fishing pole out from behind his desk and shoves it toward the group of you. "It's a golden fish. All you need do is catch one and return with it and you will be richly rewarded."

He pulls out a few more fishing poles and looks at you very hopefully. "Please, you've got to help me. It's very important."

Seldan's smile is very small, and does not reach his eyes. "A simple enough task, far simpler than most asked of me," he answers. "It shall be as you ask. Are these fish to be found in a place?" He does not, however, seem angry, merely - bemused. Perhaps a bit preoccupied.

Verna is, of course, always inclined to assist The Society. It is only due to a coincidental convergence of recent events that she has spent less time there than else. "Ah, yes, of..." spell reagents sound quite familiar as that seems to be the order of the day from the temples, as well, though that train of thought partially derails as he extends poles for fish. The nature of the required ingredients, and the method of retrieval, was not so expected nor familiar. Her thoughts delve back to recent comments concerning 'more mundane' threats.

Obviously, one should be careful what one wishes for.

"This couldn't be as simple as finding a goldfish in a pond," Jinks suggests, narrowing his eyes at the stack of rods before considering the wizard in his seared robes. "Do you mean 'gold' as in the metal? Surely, such a creature would sink." Lured here as he was by the promise of rich reward, the gnome can't help but sense a bait and switch on the horizon. Sending proxies to fish when mages love their casting so…

Randolf heard that a fellow arcanist was in need of aid, and so he has come. The sight of the man has his shaggy red brows arching, and he lumbers in to render what assistance he can. "Beards o' me fathers, friend what did ye--" He stops, then, when he hears that music. His brows droop down over his eyes in a scowl, and he wiggles his pinky in his ear. "Och, the hell is--" And now, here come the fishing poles, and that desperate plea for help. The burly dwarf can't quite keep from letting his jaw drop as he just... stares at the man. Stares. And judges. He takes up his fishing pole with an owlish blink, then looks back up. "Ye crossed the streams, didn't ye? It must be Tariday," he grumbles. He looks up at Verna with a soft sigh. "Well. Hell. Suppose after all the shit we been through lately, we should be -grateful- that this is -just- a fishin' trip." He harrumphs, shaking his head. "'course, knowin' -our- luck, the special golden fish is in a pond invested wi' slaverin' yuge flesh-eatin' fishies from the Deepest Depths o' the Neverworld." He blinks again, then smacks his forehead. "Why do I -say- these things?!"

"No, not as simple as a goldfish unfortunately. It _looks_ like it's made of gold, but in reality its scales are simply golden in color. And yes, the location is a specific one." He waves a hand and speaks a few words and a gate appears. "Here you are. It should be safe all told. And there's this." He offers a scroll toward the group of you.

"For the way back. Please only use it though once you've proccured the fish. They're rare, but you should be able to catch one eventually." The man's hands clasp before him and his sleeves hide his fingers.

"It is in my mind that the fish have another purpose," Seldan observes, taking a fishing pole of his own, although he maintains that quiet reserve. He seems tense, almost wary, but something in him softens just a little, and he reaches to take the scroll as well. "I can use it. Come, let us go." He starts towards the gate, looking back to see if the others join him.

GAME: Randolf rolls Sense Motive: (14)+3: 17
GAME: Verna rolls sense motive: (20)+12: 32

"In before-the-mists Alexandria there used to be a Person named Zydantibillibust. He had this little plot for making money where he'd come into town early with a bounty of fish then sell the location of the place to gobsmacked rubes." Jinks remembers this idly, pushing through the selection of rods-and-reels until he's laid hands on something appropriate People-sized. "But it didn't exist," he adds, distracted by the business of peering through the gate. "He just tricked people into giving him money for nothing; called it his 'Pondzy Scheme.'" He half-smirks at the memory.

"Coyote laughs," comments the gnome with a shrug as he hops through behind Seldan.

Verna reaches to claim rod and reel, herself, though her attention is on the singed magi. "You seem anxious. Are you in a rush to immolate yourself further? I would know where you would send us before we go." She looks to Seldan with some concern and them to the Gate, itself, and back.

Randolf looks over his fishing pole, giving his beard a thoughtful tug. He gives the mage a hairy eyeball (not really a difficult task, given those bushy caterpillars he calls eyebrows). But that keening tune has him wiggling a pinky in his ear again, beard all a-bristle as he grumbles to himself. "Well... if it shuts up that... -whatever- the hell that racket is, I'm happy tae help. I don't need -that- business dronin' on while I'm tryin' tae study fer me Evocations final." He eyes the portal with a nod. "Right. Let's to it, then." "Where? Oh! It's one of the Jade Islands. A smaller one, without any human inhabitants. As I said, it should be quite safe." He looks through the gate himself as if to be certain he's gotten the right place and then nods finding everything as it should be. Randolf's words make him wince subtly, but he smiles a thin smile. "I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor."

On the other side, Seldan awaits the others, scroll in one hand, fishing pole in the other. He wears a very small ghost of a smile, but it is half-hidden within that quiet, almost tense reserve, despite warm, soft breezes, white sand, and crystal blue waters. He says nothing, merely waiting for the others, and appears to be waiting for something to happen.

Verna believes that there is certainly something fishy with this assignment, though not in the context of golden scales nor ponds. With Seldan already through and the destination fitting the description, she exhales, takes her collection equipment, and steps through to join the Silverguard. "We should not leave him."

Jinks lands lightly in the sand on the other side of the portal, pinching his nose while closing his mouth and eyes to initiate the Valsalva maneuver. Ears popped, the gnome shades his eyes and looks about, already unbuckling a few of the straps holding his coat closed.

Randolf trundles through the portal, looking around the inviting tropical setting with a wistful sigh. "Wish I could've had a chance tae grab us a keg o' beer, at the verra least," he grumbles. He grips the lapel of his robe, flapping it to start fanning himself as the chilly autumn becomes sultry tropic heat. He's already breaking a sweat. The poor dwarf is, of course, native to the snowy mountains. He sets his pole down and doff his bonnet, tucking it into his belt, then shrugs out of his robe, tossing it aside. The sash fo his kilt gets lowered down, and he unlaces his shirt, pulling it off over his head to display his ruggedly handsome chest. After kick off his boots and wiggling his toes in the sand, he digs his pipe out of his robe's pocket and tucks it in the side of his mouth before plumping his hefty rump down by the water. He lifts his pole and makes ready to cast into the water, but pauses. Blink blink. "Err..." He takes ahold of his pipe, glancing over at his comrades. "What're we usin' fer bait, anyway?"

There is unfortunately for Randolf, a few truths. One - there is no answer to his question from the mage who succinctly closes the gate behind you without ever hearing the question in the first place. Two, the loud annoying music has _somehow_ followed you. The source of it is without explanation, but it is definitely here also.

Once the gate is closed, Seldan turns to look out over the beach, and over the water. "Ware you," he remarks neutrally, not sounding at all nervous, and even a bit wistful. "The mage was singed, and spoke of fish, perhaps one with golden scales. It is in my mind that he may have run afoul of Tanithariairisixchel. Still, let us be about our task. Shall I watch, to be certain?"

Verna looks to Jinks, then Randolph as clothing is loosened or outright removed. "This is not a leisurely excursion. We should not get comfortable.. and why is the music still present?" Gloved hands reach up to doff her hood, albeit more for peripheral vision than to sun her face. The first use of which is to look and listen to and fro for the sounds. "We may well be bait for something." She looks to Seldan last and notes, "I do not believe that the scroll will return us to Alexandria, nor that it was ever intended to."

"Maybe the fish is making the music..." Jinks mutters, fanning the sides of his coat. He doesn't go so far as the Khazadi wizard but does loosen and remove his jabot before unbuttoning a few shirt buttons. "They know a thing or two about scales."

A shrug for the half-Sil and he shoves the tie in a pocket. He's still wearing his leathers and weapons; it's just become adventurer-casual. He turns, scanning their surroundings as he hums along with the chorus on endless repeat. Perhaps making some attempt to place it.

Randolf looks over his shoulder. Blink blink. Then, he looks up at Verna. "Och, who said anything 'bout -leisurely-? D'ye see a single drop o' booze anywhere?" he grumbles. "This is so I dinnae pass out from bloody heat exhaustion." He looks between her and Seldan, eyes getting wide as teacups when she levies that particular accusation. "No... he -wouldn't-..." he says. His beard bristles as he considers what might have just happened. "So if it dinnae take us back tae Alexandria... where -does- it take us?" And then, there's the fact that that music has followed them through the portal. His teeth grind as he rubs his face. "Gaaarrrhh piss up my -arse-! It's -definitely- Tairsday, innit?!"

"That'sme!" Shouts the voice that was singing endlessly only a moment ago. Appearing in thin air is a tiny, cat-sized golden dragon who does a little twirl in the air and lands neatly on Seldan's shoulder. "Fish?" She looks hopefully at the various individuals gathered and gives a rather toothy grin to Randolf in particular who is the closest to actually fishing. Even if he's not _actually_ fishing. Yet.

Oh. The music, now explained, and Seldan cranes his head to regard his new shoulder ornament. Oddly, he does not appear to be angry, nor worried about the visitor, only - focused. A moment passes before he speaks, while he absorbs the implications of the golden dragon's appearance. "Tanithariairisixchel, it is well to see you once more. Fish we had come to seek, although it is in my mind that the Mourner is not wrong. Come, let us look at the scroll the mage provided." He opens the scroll and studies the scroll for spells written upon it.

Jinks' eyes get a little bigger and he swallows quickly, tucking away a hipflask when Randolf rebuffs Verna with the implication of a dry mission.

Then there's a dragon! "Well, this certainly complicates matters..." The gnome raises a beringed set of fingers in greeting for the little gold dragon, pairing them with a sheepish smile. He wasn't at his best on their previous encounter; it was something he ate.

The black-eyed gnome pads over to Randolf and mutters, low. "She seems friendly but has a temper... Just so you know."

"Who or what is a Tanithariairisixchel?" Verna inquires... only for the question to be answered by the arrival of ...a wee dragon? She eyes the creature with no small curiosity, though does not forget Randolf's question. "I suspect that the scroll does not function at all as described. Fret not, as I can return us as and when necessary."

Her eyes never leave the dragonette, though her question is likely for Seldan. "How did you come to know this one? A good omen, I dare presume?" She has witnessed him in the presence of ill, and this does not seem at all similar. "Possibly contingent on fish?"

Randolf's eyes get even wider. If they go any larger, they're liable to roll out of his head. "A... dragon..." He boggles at Tani as she alights on Seldan's shoulder. "Och, o' -course-. How foolish of me," he mutters, rubbing his face with a gusty sigh. "I'm goin' tae be havin' some -verra- cross words wi' the dean when we get back home." He chomps down on the bit of his pipe, gnawing it thoughtfully. Then, he snaps his fingers and pulls his wand off his belt. "Re ex re io prestos!" He swishes and flicks, sending a burst of silvery-blue sparkles around the bare hook. "Not tae fret, little one, we'll get ye some fish!" he booms cheerfully, giving Jinks a nod of acknowledgement. He's certainly thankful for the warning. That hip flask gets a longing look from the dwarf as well. But--he's here to do a job. If dwarves know anything, it's how to do a job. Hopefully, his Prestidigitation has imbued his empty hook with enough ghostly flavor to attract the proper fish. "Hup!" He casts his line into the water and settles in to wait.

"Even so," Seldan agrees. "Fret not. I have the means to return us at will also, and it is in my mind that do we provide fish, it will please Tanithariairisixchel to aid us, and to punish the mage who sent us here upon false pretenses." Steel underlies his tone, and he, moving carefully so as not to unbalance the dragonette, discards the scroll to the sand for anyone to read - it is blank, and makes his way towards the shore. "That is so, my friend," he tells Jinks, but with a very small smile, some of the reserve easing - just a little. "Tanith here has aided me in the past," he explains. "My mother owes Tanith her life, and for that do I honor her. She does not suffer those who exploit others, any more than I."

Tanithariairisixchel grins at Verna's question. "Iam!" She of course _is_ herself. Which closes any debate on the subject, and she waves cheerfully enough at Jinks when he waves to her, offering an even broader grin when she realizes that Randolf actually is fishing! Already the fish are gathering around his hook and the tiny dragon keeps an eagle eye on the prospective meals. "Ihelppeoples!" She looks quite proud of herself, and it takes a moment to digest her ultra-fast talking for the words that they are.

Jinks bends and scoops up the scroll, flicking the sand off and then turning it over curiously. Blank or not, he rolls it up and sticks the paper in a pouch with some of its kin; it's not like this stuff grows on trees.

"So was it you who lightly-roasted the robed wizard, dragon?" He tilts his head, half-busy trying to make sense of the fishing pole while also attempting to puzzle through the circumstances leading up to this mission. "... were you pretending to be a gold-colored fish?"

Verna seems to relax, now. 'Visibly' might be a stretch, but she does exhale a long breath, nods, and even manages a near-grin at the diminutive draconian. "All well-deserving of fish, in that case." Her rod is examined as she steps towards the water to make an attempt to put the pointy end from the former into the latter.

Randolf lazily dunks his hook in and out of the water, making it swirl through the tide. "If he's -lucky-, an' I'm feelin' -particularly- generous, I'll let the daft codger off wi' just a busted lip," he grumbles around his pipe. "I -thought- there was summat dodgy 'bout the way he was actin'. As if I had nothin' better tae do than go harin' off all over the gods' green world tae go fishin'. Hrumph!" He can't stay grouchy for long, though. At the very least, he's in good company, and it -is- a beautiful day (if a trifle too warm for his preference). "Oy, Jinks, do us a solid an' give us a nip off that flask, eh?" he says. "I'll return the favor once we're back in Alexandria." Because as any dwarf worth the beard on his face will tell you, there's no trouble so great that booze can't make better.

GAME: Randolf rolls Survival: (2)+2: 4
GAME: Verna rolls survival: (15)+6: 21
GAME: Jinks rolls Survival: (12)+0: 12

Tanith ducks her head at Jink's question. "He_lied_. Saidhewouldgetfish. SoItoastedhistoesalittle." She looks sideways at the gnome and sniffs. "Hewasverysurprised. Madeafunnyface." She doesn't seem overly upset about this whole line of events, if anything... she seems generally amused, laughing lightly to herself at the idea of the funny face that the mage had made. "He'snotnicepeoplesanyways."

Jinks considers Randolf for some time before a flask comes his way, turning like a discus lobbed in a lazy arc. Oddly, this isn't the flask he was drinking from just a moment ago. It's a much less elaborate, battered tin affair, but it sloshes heavily. "Emergency rations," he explains simply before trying his hand at casting.

Ploop goes the bobber. Being a gnome, Jinks expects levers to actuate or some manner of piston. Maybe an aether-powered lever-and-pully system. Instead he has a stick. A heartbeat short of grousing and the bobber vanishes, pulling him to his toes for a moment.

"Should have... stayed in... school!" He mocks, finally finding the leverage to hoist back the rod and tug the flopping sacrifice out of the surf and into the sand.

GAME: Seldan rolls survival: (12)+25: 37

Verna succeeds in getting the hook into the water, largely assisted by gravity. She makes note of Randolph's swirling designs and attempts to follow suit. While uncertain if any are experienced in fishing, he spoke with some familiarity; further, she IS confident than anyone here would be more knowledgeable and skilled at it than she.

Her focus on this is lost to Tanith, however, as she is undoubtedly more interesting than fish, much less a hook in water. "Ah. That explains his state, his eagerness for us to depart, and likely why the scroll was blank," she notes to the dragon as much as the others.

Interestingly enough, it seems the moment she stops focusing on the rod and hook is when other things do. A fish, even, that takes interest in it. Fate, fortune, luck, perhaps the shifting of the tide? Further still, the gnome's exclamation turns her attention sharply in the other direction. Her body follows, and rod follows that. The sudden turn snaps her own line out of the water to hang... with the fish upon the end of it.

Perhaps Tanith is a Luck Dragon.

Finally, Seldan, who had been silent through much of the discussion, relents with a small sigh. He remains standing, but wanders down towards the water's edge and casts his own line with the skill of one who has done such many times before. It does not take him long at all to produce a fish. land it, and reel it in. He says nothing during this process save, "It is in my mind that his toes needed a bit of toasting."

Randolf reaches out to catch that flask, and the sloshing brings a broad grin to his bearded face. "Oh, -bless- you, laddie!" he booms. He plunks the butt of his rod into the sand, folding his legs around it to hold it steady. This frees up his hand to hold his pipe safely while he uncaps the flask and tips back a long swallow. He smacks his lips with a contented sigh. "It's true what they say. Our folk really -must- be kin. Ye think like a dwarf!" he says with a rumble of laughter. He tips back another gulp of liquor, before capping the flask and lofting it back towards Jinks. The fact that he's not having any luck with fish doesn't seem to nettle him as much as it might. And now we see the benefits of properly administered liquor to the dwarven mind and body. He glances over at Tanith as the dragonet gives her estimation of their erstwhile quest-giver. "Oh, well, in -that- case, we'll be upgradin' 'busted lip' tae 'thorough arse-kickin'!" he says cheerfully. Because if there's anything dwarves love more than knocking back brew, it's swinging fists.

Tanith jumps on the first fish to hit the shore, attaching to it and devouring it in a matter of moments. Verna's fish hardly gets a chance to join it. The voracious dragonling pouncing on it the moment that it's free of the water and Seldan's fish suffers a similar fate. It's absolutely astonishing how quickly she can eat the fish. They almost seem to vanish under her claws. And after the third... she's already eaten more than her mass worth of fish. She sits on the shore where the water can't reach her now and swishes her tail back and forth. Waiting for more fish.

"OR," Jinks begins, pausing to watch the pescatarian dragon inhale the sea's shared bounty. This seems a hill you can climb for all your might and never reach the apex... "Or," he blinks, finding his train of thought once more, "we blackmail and bully the wizard into doing something useful as penance. I'm due to enhance some of my equipment and maybe we can make him work at cost." Ploop, goes the bobber after the next cast. "As satisfying as violence may seem, exploiting someone's usefulness might help to serve u--" he pauses, looking askance at Seldan as if remembering his presence for the first time in a good while-- "the, uh... Greater Good."

Verna blinks as one, three, the fish vanish even more rapidly than they were retrieved. She looks from the poles, to the waiting Tanith, and back. "We may need more fishing equipment. For the greater good."

"Indeed," Seldan replies to Jinks, although he fixes Jinks with a _look_. "We do not exploit, we merely remind him why one's promises are to be kept." Without thinking, he casts his hook and line back into the water with smooth motions. "It is a fine day, though. I am in no hurry to return."

Randolf looks over at Jinks and droops a little bit. "Aww... damn you an' yer impeccable logic," he says mournfully. And he was -so- looking forward to dispensing a proper dwarven ass-kicking. Seldan's admonishments has him perking back up though. "Aye, ye have it exact!" he says with a grin. "Exploitation would be morally wrong. Better tae stick to a good, clean, wholesome arse-kickin', innit?" He lifts his hooks up from the water and scowls a bit. "Damn it, I'm a wizard, nae an angler," he grumbles, plooping it back down into the drink. Jinks has partially disconnected.

You fish the day away then, until you grow tired of the sand and sea and fishing. It's a nice day (if a bit warm for some tastes). Tanith loves every minute of it. Chomping down fish until she's exhausted and falling asleep on the sand herself. She'll rouse herself when you guys go to leave, flapping over to a shoulder and falling asleep there.

Then, you make your way home, the day of peacefulness ending with a brief interlude to teach a wizard a lesson. You're fairly certain that he was just glad that Tanith was gone; even if only for a while.

-End