The Peanut Gallery

ScorpiusRisk said:

Return of the Five!​

Mayor Brunt was on hand last night, as well as anyone who is anyone in Daunton, for the grand reopening of the Dautonian Fine House of Oration. The Merchants of Baccarat recently purchases and remodeled the old cabaret house transforming it into a place where Daunton's most proper could come to enjoy an evening of culture. While the Lady of the Winds was on hand to take everyone's breath away, the real story came at the finale.

Just as the performance was coming to a climax, the Lady was attacked by strange lights and the statues adorning the theatre! In a most ironic twist, chief among the aggressors stood the looming presence of Merchant Patron Captain Coppernail and former patron and protector Mauros!

The Merchants of Baccarat were prepared for any situation, and a team of adventurers were quickly on the scene, battling the monsters back, and allowing the crowds to get to safety. It was a strange scene indeed for those among us who still remember the five, as these five newer faces battled the image of Mauros on a stage that he not only frequently visited by reportedly battled spirits on!

This reporter got to speak briefly with a few members of the team to learn more. Two Dwarves among them, one Dane the great fighter stayed toe to toe with the largest of the creatures and slammed into the floor at least five times. Yet drawing on some unknown strength, kept getting up. Hadrak, played the spiritual guidance for the group, in a way only a dwarf can. We're just lucky there were no children present. Qynn, an Eladrin warrior, disapeared right before our eyes, only to be transported at the front of the house protecting the crowds. Rurdev, the shifter, slid between enemies with skill taking out the outlying enemies before leaping onto the stage. The fifth member we didn't get to speak to but appeared to be a warforged wearing the robes of Mauros himself. Once the fight was done he melded with the shadows themselves.

It was quite a night at the opera. The Lady of the Winds is set to finish her week of performances.

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Sanzuo said:

In the dim light of the tavern, among the quiet din and drawl of patrons minding their business, one might notice a large bristly creature in the manner of a predatory cat pad silently on all fours into the room through the back door. They might also notice a mad, homicidal quality that follows the creature, shows in its eyes, froths on its mouth and dribbles on the floor. They might not notice these things, but they are probably pretending not to. Who wouldn't notice a psychotic 7-foot long hyena monster in a tavern meant for sensible people?

Despite its dangerously feral demeanor it appears as if the creature has managed to dress itself in thick hides from other animals and also carries a variety of bags and satchels, most likely looted from various humanoids. Trailing behind it is what seems to be a broken leash attached to a thick, leather collar around the creature's neck. Riveted to the collar is a steel plate. On the plate engraved in large, bold letters are two words: RAM TIGER.

It stalks about the room and tests various locations with its nose before apparently deciding on a spot beneath an unoccupied table. It plops down on its belly, roots around in one of its bags with its snout for a moment, produces the upper half of a rotting, putrescent goblin carcass and begins loudly and disgustingly feeding on it.

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Sanzuo said:

Lost in its meal, the creature didn't pay much attention to the mysterious robed man who entered the tavern. However, when the creature glanced up and saw the group of people taking in interest in something on a table, it became insanely jealous. What was it? Was it treasure? Food? Whatever it was it was valuable, that meant it belonged to it.


The creature emerges from its spot, it's claws clicking on the floor as it slinks towards the table, a ropey mass of goblin entrails trailing from its mouth. It mounts the table, dripping slobber and viscera all over the surface. It looks down, and sees only a note. How boring. Where was the treasure? it wondered. It looked up at the faces around the table. Its expression demanded an explanation.


............RAWR!?

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stonegod said:

Fissues continues eating, more tasting, each motion with exagerated carefulness due to his size. He takes the wine and port glasses with two hands, instead of the more refined underhand gesture, but only tastes each, coughing a little at the strong port. When the others go outside, he looks curiously at the cigar, entirely out of his depth on what do do with it. When someone mentions smoke, he looks for another stick to rub against the apparently tiny match.

Challenges of brain, not body. Good for Fissure. Outside mastery, gain more mastery.

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Mal Malenkirk said:

-''So... What we do?'' asks Ghorgor, chewing a cigar like a gum. ''We smart with easy exercise and we build the resistance, yes? Ooze sound easy. Is big acid pudding! Ghorgor knows where to look; brewery of Daunton's Bouldwaizor. Is cheap beer. Is awful beer! Ghorgor is sure there is ooze in crappy brewery.''

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stonegod said:

Once everyone is gathered, the shadowed warforged looks up from the map. His head is cowled, but those who were with him the last time know the sign upon his brow. With care, he removes the cowl, revealing the soul mark for the newcomers to see. The mark is clear, but unlike the normally unique soul-marks of the warforged, this one is known far and wide though its bearer was long dead.

It was the mark of Mauros Esthanapiros, wizard of the Five.

Some of you know me. Some of you not. You know of me as much as I know of myself. My past is a mystery with no beginning. All I know are two things: The ghosts of the Five haunt my steps, and there is some doom of theirs coming. Of the former, my companions know: A sewer where the Five stopped an incursion of the realms of madness; a theatre where the Five one stopped the dead. Where I walk, they have already tread.

Letting his words sink in, the warlock once again covers his head, only the flames of his eyes now visible. The Lady of the Winds, a charge from our last adventure, is a seer; a fey tied to the winds of fate. Her words speak of this doom I feel seeking me. But another agent seeks me, seeks against this doom, and believes me to be the key. Her words were clear: If the Warden fails, 'So fails Daunton'.

Incarnation looks to the map, and points out the small circle of trees. The Warden is a dragonborn from the Empire of Jade, a fighter of their demons and whispered of in their lands. His purpose here is unknown. If wait the Lady speaks is true, we must seek him. It is in the grove of trees he should be found if what I have divined is true.

He looks to his companions, old and new, to see if they have any questions.

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johnmeier1 said:

Wil smiles as Kruk and Carolina approach. He pulls is bow off his back leisurely but holds it like a harp. After the introductions end he begins to sing:

Two more join Wil Rando's band
So Lord Byron will be kept alive
Mervin bids the group farewell
But with the new they are now five

A clever lady name Carolina
A stout dwarf warrior named Kruk
Lend their art and steel to us
So we don't wind up in the muck

Wil looks a bit confused for a moment. He looks over to Kruk and asks in a lower voice Does your name rhyme with "duck" or "luke"?

[sblock=OOC] Wil doesn't have either of his approvals yet, but I am ready for the adventure. Where is the new thread Tenchuu?[/sblock]

[sblock=ministats]
Triggers: Virtue of Prescience (if ally within 5 is hit by less than 2), Rhyme of the Blood-Seeking Blade (if ally misses with melee by less than 6), Arrow of Warning (if bloodied ally is attacked)
Status:
Init: +4 Speed: 5 Perception:19 Insight: 17
AC: 19 NAD:14/16/19
HP: 40/40 Surges: 8/8 Surge Value: 10 AP: 1
Languages: Allarian, Imperia, Draconic
Str:8 Dex:14 Wis:14 Con:13 Int:10 Cha:21

Powers:
At Will - Jinx Shot, Cutting Words
Encounter - Second Wind, Shout of Triumph, Twin Strike, Grappling Spirits, Hunter's Quarry, Majestic Word, Words of Friendship, Moment of Escape, Rhyme of the Blood-Seeking Blade
Daily - Arrow of Warning, Inevitable Shot, Songbow of Vanishment

Full Character Sheet
[/sblock]

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stonegod said:

Fissure again picks carefully at his food, eating with an exaggerated carefulness but with an odd sort of grace. After dinner, he just bows his thanks and gets up to follow Ghorgor. The others, busy with the items given to them by the grand chef, hand Fissure the lockbox. Unfortunately for them, Fissure barely knew what to do with it. On their way back to the Hanged Man, he is accosted by a goblin in an oversized coat.

Stop. Good man. That box. It does seem to be holding you down. Son, let me help you with that.

Fissure, from his vantage three or four goblin-lengths up, looked down and shrugged. Not heavy.

The goblin shook his head, a gleam in his eye. Ah, it may not be heavy to your arms, but you your soul, my good man, to your soul it is a great weight. The goblin glanced at Fissure's simple clothes, his smile widening. You, fine sir, must be a simple man of faith, of the cloth, of aesthetic virtue—the goblin noticed something in Fissure's face at the last—yes, a noble, simple man whose possession of such worldly good would only harm your better nature. Am I right?

Fissure frowned, a bit confused. The goblin persisted, putting his arm about Fissure. Well, around Fissure's knee. Below it, actually.

Let me be of service, oh humble master. See, I am a collector. A collector of sin. No, no, do not be troubled. Each man has his worth, and mine, my good friend, is to suffer for others. It is the duty I serve so others as noble as yourself do not suffer. Please, let me take that from you. Let me help you.

Fissure opened his mouth, starting with, But others want— The goblin stopped him with a pat.

The others? Certainly they wanted you to take their burdens. They gave you that box, didn't they. Gave it to you so you would be spoiled by its sinful, tainted, shiny contents. Using you, so. Sad, it is. Me, I would never take advantage of one so noble as yourself.

It made sense, he guessed. Fissure dropped the box before the goblin, almost crushing him. Okay. Take sin. Now what?

The goblin seemed to want to rub his hands together for some reason, then thought better of it and peered in the box. He whistled, looked up and the goliath, looked down, then whistled again. Well, well, my most noble sir. This certainly would have caused you much trouble for your aesthetic discipline! I, your humble servant, will dispose of this, don't you worry. Hear, I have something, a minor charm. It'll help in the future. The distracted goblin held out a rusty copper chain. However, it caught on something the goblin was wearing and tore it off. A different charm, one better made. The goblin, so enrapt in helping remove Fissure's sin, didn't notice. The goliath gingerly took the copper chain and charm (looked to be preserved rat's head) and wrapped it around his throat.

Thank you, good man. Fissure like.

The goblin waved a yeah, yeah busy counting his newly gained sin. Fissure, glad to be rid of it, made his way to the tavern.

Wealth lost by deceit, wealth gained by inattentiveness. At least there is symmetry.

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Dekana said:

"Such a noble goal! How could we refuse a true hero's company? Please, do join us at least as far as the gnome that Cyr mentioned. We are investigating him for theft of the gravest kind. We may even have to fight him - a dangerous warlock - and I can think of no other artificial being I'd rather have standing in front of me to absorb said spells when we attack."

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Iron Sky said:

DASTARDY WARLOCKS, GRAVE THEFT, PERFECT PERFIDITY! Sir Exsixten proclaims. I WILL INDEED STAND AS THE WALL AGAINST WHICH HE HURLS HIS DARK MAGICS, THE CASTLE OF MIGHT UNDER SIEGE BY HIS ELDRICH POWER... <Sir Exsixten paces about the cave, continuing on for 15 minutes or so> ... THE ANVIL UPON WHICH THE TOOLS OF HIS DESTRUCTION WILL BE FORGED. VERILY I SAY UNTO YOU, LET US FIGHT THIS EVIL! I ACCEPT YOUR QUEST, CITIZEN, LET US BE OFF!

Sir Exsixten begins heading out into the night in no particular direction, weapon drawn, bearing proud.

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Luinnar said:

NO! Says Alnar in a commanding voice. We are sleeping first. Us organic meatbags need rest. And we can't rest with your talking. So quiet down!

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Iron Sky said:

Sir Exsixten halts then slowly swivels to face the cave. He stands for a moment in the darkness then wades.

I HAVE A BETTER PLAN, CITIZENS OF JUSTICE. WE WILL HOLD UP HERE, MAKE HIM BELIEVE WE ARE NOT WISE TO HIS FOUL TRICKS THEN SURPRISE HIM IN THE MORNING!

There is a few minutes' pause as Sir Exsixten settles in at the mouth of the cave, on watch. Then he leans in and booms out:

REST WELL MEATBAGS! MAY SLEEP FIND YOU QUICKLY.

Five minutes pass.

CITIZENS! LET YOUR DREAMS BE UNTROUBLED KNOWING THAT SIR EXSIXTEN GUARDS YOUR PRONE FLESH SACKS.

A few more minutes pass.

BLESSED REST BE UPON YOU AND BE ASSURED, ANYTHING THAT SLIPS PAST MY WATCHFUL GAZE AND MURDERS YOU IN THE NIGHT WILL NOT LIVE LONG! REVENGE WILL BE HAD!

After that, he seems to have finally run out of things to say, though he seems to be mumbling his "internal dialogue" to himself most of the night.

SIR EXSIXTEN STANDS, ALERT, WATCHFUL, ON GUARD FOR ANYTHING. HE HEARS A NOISE IN THE SWAMP. VIGILANTLY, HE PEERS INTO THE ENCLOSING DARKNESS, READY FOR ANYTHING. SECONDS PASS... AND MORE SECONDS... AND MORE... <ETC>

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