[18e04] Tailin' Taelin

The night took a dramatic turn when three of the Noffindorfs—infamous gnome magical architects in bright colored cloaks—arrived at Kerwin’s office building via a magical bubble vehicle and made a desperate pitch to purchase a mysterious artifact, offering double their previous bid and a promised cure for Kerwin’s condition. Callie observed the meeting invisibly from outside the window while Ozborn, Freki, Vondal, and their SPI contact Vex Morradine kept watch from a nearby rooftop. Kerwin refused the deal, skeptical of the cure and unwilling to give up the magical carafe, and the Noffindorfs departed disappointed—their vehicle vanishing instantly, foiling any attempt to follow. Shortly after, Callie witnessed a swift and irreversible act: Taelin, Kerwin’s own associate, pleaded one final time for him to accept the deal and abandon the carafe, and when he refused, she drove a dagger through his chest, wiped the blade clean, and slipped the carafe into her bag before walking out without a second glance.

The party scrambled to intercept Taelin as she exited the building, with Ozborn making a dramatically intentional rooftop dismount and Freki managing a far less graceful descent via drainpipe. Bec and Callie staged a casual street encounter with Taelin, while Ozborn attempted to use his supernatural charm on her—only for Bec to observe the magic deflect off an invisible mental barrier already wrapped around Taelin’s mind. To buy time for the protection to fade, Vondal feigned a leg cramp, used his familiar Murky in spider form to distract Taelin, and Callie launched into an elaborate theatrical healing performance that left Taelin wide-eyed and convinced. The group fell into step beside her through the dark streets of Trell, keeping up the ruse and waiting for her mental defenses to dissolve—all while knowing full well that she had just committed murder and that the stolen carafe was sitting in the bag at her hip.

The night took a sharp turn when a magical bubble vehicle glided silently up to Kerwin’s office building and disgorged three short, cloaked figures onto the street. Each wore a different color—yellow, green, and indigo—and moved with the quiet confidence of people who had never once doubted their own importance. After the last of them stepped out, the indigo-cloaked figure raised a hand and the vehicle shrank impossibly into their palm, vanishing as though it had never existed. Callie, hovering invisibly outside the upper windows, recognized them immediately: the Noffindorfs, the infamous gnome magical architects whose rainbow cloaks were known across the world. She whisper-shouted the name down to her ally Bec below, whose sharp ears caught it, her memory supplying the rest—these were brilliant, obsessive craftspeople who worked for anyone with the right price and a sufficiently interesting challenge, and at least one of them was known to specialize in ciphers and codes.

Across the street, perched on a rooftop with a commanding view of the building’s entrance, Ozborn, Freki, and Vondal had been keeping watch when their SPI contact Vex Morradine scaled the three-story wall with breathtaking ease and set down a bag of food. Vondal hauled himself up after, managing the climb competently if not gracefully, and the group found themselves treated to an elaborate spread of Trellian cuisine—saltbrick flatbread with a faint metallic undertone, cold ember broth made from roasted bones and mineral water, brimstone pickles cured in sulfurous spring water, char-pressed fish from the cold deep waters around Minauros, and harbor devil eggs topped with fermented red bite pepper paste. Vex narrated each dish with the gravity of a sommelier while Ozborn ate everything within reach, and Vondal politely declined most of it in favor of his more familiar dwarven palate. Meanwhile, Vondal reached out through a whispered magical message to Bec, relaying that three gnomes had entered the building to meet with someone singular, bizarre, and strangely compelling.

Inside Kerwin’s private fourth-floor office, the Noffindorfs made their pitch. The indigo-cloaked figure spoke with an intensity that bordered on desperation, offering Kerwin double their previous bid for a mysterious artifact and sweetening the deal with a promised cure for his condition. The green-cloaked Noffindorf produced a thick sheaf of contract papers, and Kerwin summoned Taelin to review the legal details. Callie, pressing close to the cracked window to hear, observed Taelin’s face with unsettling clarity—tears glittered in her eyes, and beneath them burned a barely contained fury. She reviewed the contract rapidly and urged Kerwin to accept, but he refused, citing skepticism about the promised cure and his unwillingness to relinquish control of the magical carafe. The Noffindorfs left the contract behind and shuffled out looking disappointed, their magical vehicle imploding into nothingness the moment they were all inside, vanishing before anyone could think to follow.

The party’s brief plan to send their familiars—Caesar the monkey and Murky the spider—after the departing vehicle collapsed the moment it disappeared. Kerwin, meanwhile, had risen from his desk and walked to the window, staring out into the night with an unsettling intensity, his gaze passing almost directly over Callie’s invisible form. He let out a strange, escalating whistle before muttering something about stupid imps and locking the window shut. Callie, who had accidentally brushed a wing against the wall moments earlier, held perfectly still until he turned away. She then floated back up to the fourth-story window just in time to watch Taelin stride back into the office wearing an industrial leather and brass half-mask over her nose and mouth.

What followed was brief and irreversible. Kerwin berated Taelin for endorsing a contract he found defective, and she pleaded with him one last time to accept the deal, to put the carafe aside, to try to become more normal again. He refused, insisting the artifact’s effects on him were already permanent. Taelin went quiet for a moment, then said softly that he left her no choice at all. She drew a dagger from the small bag at her belt, and in one smooth motion drove it through his chest. Kerwin deflated slowly, yellow bile oozing from the wound as the air left him. Taelin wiped the blade clean on his clothing, sheathed it, and then opened her bag wide enough to slip the magical carafe inside, cinching it shut before striding out of the office without looking back.

Callie descended in a rush and relayed what she had witnessed to Bec, who immediately began coordinating the group. Vondal sent word to the rooftop team that Taelin was leaving the building, and the party scrambled to intercept her. Ozborn launched himself off the rooftop in a series of enthusiastic backflips before using his enchanted ring to drop the remaining distance to the street, landing in a dramatic pose that he absolutely intended. Freki attempted to leap between buildings, fell short, caught a drainpipe, and shimmied down to the ground with considerably less flair. Vondal was retrieved from a portable hole and the group reassembled on the street just as Taelin emerged from the building’s entrance.

Bec and Callie staged a casual encounter, pretending they had simply hoped to run into her outside of work. Taelin seemed guarded but not immediately suspicious, warning them that the local taverns were not suitable for people like them and offering to lead them somewhere better. Ozborn fell into step beside her and turned on his full supernatural charm, but something was wrong—her posture didn’t shift the way it always did when his gift took hold. Bec, watching closely, saw the arcane energies of his charm wash over Taelin and strike an invisible barrier, a custom-tailored magical protection actively wrapped around her mind. It was already fading, but it hadn’t broken yet.

Vondal, understanding the need to stall without being told, suddenly doubled over with a dramatic leg cramp, drawing Taelin’s genuine concern. He then placed Murky—currently in spider form—onto her outstretched hand as a distraction. Callie seized the moment to perform an elaborate theatrical healing over Vondal, invoking divine authority with sweeping gestures and solemn proclamations, and Taelin watched the whole spectacle with wide eyes, apparently convinced. The group continued walking together through the dark streets of Trell, waiting for the magical barrier around Taelin’s mind to dissolve completely, none of them letting on that they knew exactly what she had done in that office—or that the carafe she had stolen was sitting in the bag at her hip.

Last we left off, our party found themselves deep in the shadowed streets of Trell, keeping a careful vigil on the office building of one Kerwin Ulvas—a singular and unsettling figure whose connection to a mysterious magical carafe had drawn the attention of powerful forces. From rooftop and window alike, the group watched as three gnomish figures in colored cloaks—the infamous Noffindorfs, magical architects of considerable renown—arrived in a vehicle that vanished like smoke and made their pitch to Kerwin directly, offering double their previous bid and the promise of a cure for his condition. He refused them, and they departed disappointed, their vehicle imploding into nothing before anyone could give chase.

What none of them were prepared for was what came next. Callie, hovering invisibly at the fourth-floor window, bore silent witness as Kerwin’s own assistant Taelin—tears in her eyes and fury barely contained beneath them—made one final plea for him to let go of the carafe and step back from the edge of whatever he had become. When he refused, she drove a dagger through his chest with quiet, terrible resolve, wiped the blade clean, slipped the carafe into her bag, and walked out of the building without a backward glance.

Now the party has reassembled on the street below, falling into step beside Taelin with carefully constructed smiles and a spider, a theatrical healing, and a supernatural charm that has not quite found its purchase—not yet. They walk together through the dark city, waiting, watching, and holding their breath, knowing full well that the woman beside them is a killer, and that the stolen artifact swings gently at her hip with every step she takes…

Three gnomes in bright cloaks came to call,
Their bubble-car shrank to nothing at all.
They offered a cure,
But Kerwin said “Sure—no,”
And the Noffindorfs left down the hall.

Poor Taelin had tears in her eyes,
Beneath them burned fury in disguise.
She begged him to quit,
He refused every bit,
So she stabbed him and took her prize.

Callie watched from the window above,
Then dove down to warn those she loved.
Ozborn flipped off the roof,
Freki gave us the proof
That drainpipes beat grace push-comes-to-shove.

Ozborn turned on his charm with a grin,
But the magic just couldn’t get in—
A ward on her mind
Left his gift far behind,
Though its edges were wearing quite thin.

Now they walk through the dark streets of Trell,
With a murderer under their spell—
Well, almost in place,
With a spider-like grace,
And a carafe they’re not meant to tell.

When last we left our intrepid group of definitely-not-suspicious loiterers, they were staking out an office building in Trell while eating what can only be described as a sulfur-forward charcuterie board, courtesy of their SPI contact Vex. The evening’s entertainment included three color-coded gnome architects arriving in a magic bubble car, one (1) dramatic assassination witnessed through a cracked window, and Ozborn doing backflips off a roof because of course he did. Freki also attempted a rooftop leap, caught a drainpipe, and we will leave it at that.

Now the whole gang is casually strolling through the city streets next to Taelin—who has just murdered her boss and stolen a magical artifact and is absolutely not acting weird about it—while they wait for the invisible brain-shield around her mind to wear off so Ozborn’s charm can actually work. It’s fine. Everything is fine. The spider was a nice touch.