Dark Days in Sion - Act 2: Scene 3

Wrenwil

~Embarrassing.~ That was one word for it, yes.

In the dead of night the old cleric of Pentos continued in vain to assemble a crossbow he'd never laid eyes on, under the cover of not only darkness, but also a confounded blanket. It just wasn't happening for him. Either the design and assembly was some foreign bastardization of a "proper" crossbow, or he'd forgotten the basics. Let's face it, he hadn't had need for a range weapon for quite a long time... a very very long time.

He grunted in disdain, and moved to hand the contraption back to Ordechai.

"It's useless. A waste of time. These ingredients are unknown to me, and while I stand here de-masculinated and ashamed, our crew is in the heat of battle. I can hear the knight doing his work. Perhaps we should move closer, surely any further sky-born scum would already have descended?"

[Craft check = 7 owch.]

Ania, Ersun

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<End of round 6>

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<Start of Round 7>

Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(22) Underfolk Thug #2 (Unconscious)
(16) Ania (-13)
(16) Half Orog (-10)(-15^)(-13^)(-28^)(Dead)
(13) Worgo (-15)(-26^)(-12)(-28^)(Dead)
(10) Ersun (-4)
(5) Underfolk Thug #1 (-13, Serious)(Unconscious)
__________________________________________________ ________

Ania: (Concentration Check to Cast 'Fire Burst' , DC 17: = 23, Success)(Damage: = 28)

Half Orog: (Reflex Save, DC 14: = 4, Fail)

Worgo: (Reflex Save, DC 14: = 5, Fail)

Ania casts 'Fire Burst' a second time and this time both Worgo and the half Orog are both engulfed. Their horrid screams last for a few moments as Worgo stumbles backwards, falling unto the smaller tent... while the Half Orgo bolts straight past Ania into the pile of black market goods lighting those ablaze as well. Whats worse, the ceiling of the tent has also caught on fire.

Ania: Yells at you. "Time to go, cut us another exit out the back. We cannot afford to be seen leaving this tent after what we've done!"

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<End of Round 7><End of Combat>


[Ersun: What do you do?]

narayan said:

Avar: Slowly shakes his head "Your plan won't work Billanverthorne, we already tried it. After we escaped Skull Mountain my clan swore a vow to kill any members of the black network we came across. We raided several camps and hideouts, killed dozens, and while it was immensely satisfying it was all for naught. Skull Mountain can afford to loose dozens everyday, our victories changed nothing. Nor could we dissuade them from hunting us by making examples of agents we captured with acts of brutality. Skull Mountain does worse to their own who refuse to obey orders."

Jabbar: "I'm afraid Avar is right. The Back Network cannot be defeated unless Skull Mountain falls first. That is why we are hoping you can rally the army of Siellon against them! It is the only plan that makes sense at this time. Understand we do not expect you to simply demand that of them. Persuasion and diplomacy will no doubt be required, but who better than an honorable elven soldier who's lost a father and a grandfather to inspire a purpose of vengeance among your kin?"

"Avar and I will help you collect evidence and uncover secrets of the Black Network that you can use in your arguments. Of course we want to kill them all as much as you do, but we are too few to do much harm to their organization. We must keep them in the dark, unaware of who we are and where we are as much as possible. Unfortunately, given that you are obviously already on their death list, that is easier said than done."

"By the way, Khaled wasn't entirely forthcoming about what brought you to Cabarda in the first place? Is there some friend or relative of yours hereabouts that may also be in danger? The Black Network will use anyone you care about to get close to you. If there is someone you need to warn, we should get them into hiding before its too late."

Click to expand...

Bill nods in agreement. "You are correct, I am coming to Cabarda to meet someone who may know much about what my father discovered about the Black Network that was important enough to warrant his assassination." Bill leans in close, to say these words in the most quiet whisper to Jabar, just in case someone is listening in the darkness outside the tent. "He is the owner of the Masoud Trading Company. His name is Jarahdrin."

Bill continues: "Well, regardless of how organized, wide-spread, and fearless they are, the first step in taking them down is still reconnaissance. Instead of destroying low-level operatives, and wiping out tentacles, so to speak, we need to find a way to strike the head of the organization, a way to take out its top leadership. One way or another, this is going to come down to a fight. And I don't think it will be a fight that an army can win. It will be a surgical fight, and it will play out in some antechamber, deep inside the network's headquarters. I will, of course, honor your request to speak to the Elven leadership, and to ask for their help in this matter. But my words would carry much more weight if they could be backed by proof, especially something as valuable as the severed head of someone in a leadership position. Such relics reveal much to wizards powerful enough to use them properly."

Ersun

“Just a moment…” He says to Ania and quickly finishes off the two unconscious thugs beside him. Then he proceeds to indeed cut a hole for themselves if Ania hadn’t started yet by herself and sneak out the back of the tent.
“One of them only fainted. It would have been most uncomfortable for him to start babbling later...”

Folg, Mogan, Svexyn

Fangor the Fierce said:

Svexyn: "Apologies for the half-dwarf. We are simple travelers looking for opportunities. Seems as though we may have one here. For a small fee, we could dispose of that body, since it is your claim by right of duel. Say, five gold pieces for salvage rights? Me and my associates can then drag it off away from the inn. If that's agreeable."

Click to expand...

[Svexyn: (Fate Pool Diplomacy Check: = 19)]

As soon as you speak the duelist fixes his stare on you instead of Mogan. Simultaneously, Folg and Mogan also look at you like you just grew horns.

Duelist: (Sense Motive Check: = 19) The duelist has an expression of slight surprise, tinged with suspicion, but mostly it is arrogance. He huffs. "You want this piece of offal for scavenge-rights?" He asks with an amused and slightly condescending tone. As you nod he smirks. "Alright then, help yourself." However as soon as you reach for your coin purse he waves his hand. "We'll settle up later, you can buy me a drink. Ask for Drasus." He says.

Drasus turns and walks back into the inn, looking very pleased with himself. Some of the patrons jive and congratulate him on another conquest. Others avoid making eye contact and look very disgusted. They shut the door behind him and once again the three of you are alone outside with the body of the half orc.

After you explain your plan, Mogan drags the half orc away from the inn a hundred yards or so where you'll have more privacy. Once your aura stops the bleeding, he should regain consciousness in a matter of hours. It will be faster however if you also make a DC 15 heal check.

[Svexyn: What do you do? Someone still has to go back to the inn to buy the tools and supplies you need. In the meantime who will stay behind and watch over the half orc?]

Svexyn, Mogan and Folg

Svexyn:

The scrutinized look that the duelist gives him is met with an even stare from himself. Svexyn nods at the mention of buying the man a drink instead of paying him now. Perhaps this little duel would prove even more fruitful, should he manage to get some information.

As the body is dragged away, his mind races with just what has happened so far. to Svexyn...

~Buried ruins, hooded figures, dire jackals, a merchant that didn't favor so well, a duel that had no chance, the duelist now asking to have a drink, and an unconscious half orc that owes its life to me... all in a days worth, so it would seem. Now to get some gear and take care of things...~

"Let's see just what we found here..." he says to Mogan and Folg, as he begins to search the body with great care. He motions for Folg to assist with the search, while handing the falchion and any other weapons to Mogan. He continues to do this, making sure all pockets and seams are checked, and double checked by the kobold.

[Search body, taking 20, +1 Aura, +3 Skill, +2 Aid Another by Folg = 26]

As the contents of the half-orc are accounted for, Svexyn attempts to see just what they can use, what can be salvaged or traded for gear, and what they should keep to possibly give back to the half-orc once it awakens later on. He still didn't have a complete plan, but for now, keeping this one alive and asking it a few questions was what he had in mind. But that would have to wait for later. He gathers what he deems as not needed by the group, or the half-orc, and possibly able to be traded at the inn.

"He won't be going anywhere, but keep your eyes peeled. This place is dangerous, from what we have seen so far. I'll head back to the inn and get a shovel, some camping gear, and see about some warm food. If there's anything you want me to look for, let me know now. Otherwise, I should be back shortly. Might have to have that one drink with Drasus though."

He gathers what is needed, leaving a few things like his backpack and light crossbow behind. He won't need those things in the inn, and will make his story that much more believable. He then makes his way back to the doors of the inn, and pushes through. He looks for the nearest barmaid, asking, "Where can I buy some camping gear? And once I'm done with that, Drasus and I need a drink, if you can point out where he is..".

Once he gets his bearings, he checks to see what type of gear is available, as well as if they are bartering for anything he sees as able to sell off from the Half-Orc.

[Looking for shovel, tents, camping gear, a whistle, a mule with bit & bridle & saddle bags, and rope to name a few]

Alic, Bax, Kryslogious, Malic, Ordechai, Wrenwil

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<Round 2>

Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(17) Kryslogious (-6)
(16) Wrenwil
(15) Vul Hunter (-9)(-11)
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The Vul once again strikes at you with its natural weapons in a panic. (Its attacks suffer at a -4 penalty for being prone.)

Vul Hunter: (Right Wing-Claw Attack: = 13, Miss)(Left Wing-Claw Attack: = 9, Miss)(Beak Attack: = 9, Miss)

Unable to harm you in your plate mail with its natural weapons, the Vul Hunter inevitably falls to a few more hacks from your sword. When its lanky body stills at last, great wings spread out across sands, you quickly note how quiet it is without its miserable shrieks. All you hear is your own heart pounding and lengthy gasps from your lungs echoing in your helm while your breath fogs in the desert nights chill.

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<End of Combat>

Katanese Warrior: -Murmers- "Idaina sōkō senshi"

You turn to regard the pair of katanese warriors who bow towards you before making their way back to their camp without another word. You also note several of the other members of their camp are standing witness close by, staring with absolute disbelief at the vanquished Vul.

Moments later your companions appear at your side with weapons drawn. Malic has obviously healed the wound to his sons neck.

Malic: Breathes out slowly as he realizes what you've done. "Moradin help us! Are there others?!" He asks staring up at the sky.

Ordechai: "If there were others, they'd have attacked by now." He says with a nod to Wrenwil acknowledging his recent statement to him.

Alic: Quickly kneels by the side of the Keu once more with his dagger to cut it free, but it seems like he may be too late. "The Keu isn't breathing!" He exclaims.

[Kryslogious, Wrenwil: What do you do?]

Wrenwil

~ A Keu! ~

The cleric was relieved to see his companions were relatively unscathed by the ordeal he'd failed to share in. He'd missed the action, but it seemed clear that a general consensus had been agreed, that the Keu was to be saved... somehow. Using his staff to support weary knees, Wrenwil crouched down next to the creature and murmured something about not being a veterinary physician.

It was all up to Pentos now. He softly stroked the poor thing's feathery head and called for assistance, mercy, and a a reward for bravery in the dangerous skies.

[Cast Cure Moderate Wounds for 18 HP - Assuming the poor thing isn't a goner.]

Avar, Billanverthorne, Jabbar

Tellerian Hawke said:

Bill nods in agreement. "You are correct, I am coming to Cabarda to meet someone who may know much about what my father discovered about the Black Network that was important enough to warrant his assassination." Bill leans in close, to say these words in the most quiet whisper to Jabar, just in case someone is listening in the darkness outside the tent. "He is the owner of the Masoud Trading Company. His name is Jarahdrin."

Click to expand...

Avar and Jabbar share a look before they start to chuckle together with disbelief.

Jabbar: "You cant be serious? Jarahdrin was helping your father investigate the Black Network? Forgive me but thats hard to believe. Jarahdrin is one of the corrupt merchant elite! He's never demonstrated any care for the miseries of the common people. Why would he help your father so far away while ignoring the plight all around him?"

He paused then as his eyes unfocused while he focused inwardly on a thought.

"Unlessss..." He says with a slight smile. "...his cold demeanor is just a ruse? I should certainly understand the need for appearances in this land, plagued as it is with so much evil!" He remarks, focusing his gaze at you once again Billanverthorne.

"Did you not want to ask me about this scar?" He asks gesturing to his face. "This is what happens when you forget they're watching you. Jarahdrin might be smarter than I am in that regard.... Avar here convinced me of the threat of the black network beyond a doubt, but I still knew they existed before I ever met him... just not exactly where they came from. Until now I was better educated about another secretive network of spies, informants and thugs known as the Vulfear."

"The only difference between these groups, in principle, is whom they serve. The Vulfear do their worst to keep the Vul in power. The Black Network does their worst for darker plans and even darker powers, hard though that is to imagine sometimes. Proof of the network is all around us. Anyone with courage enough to explore the backrooms, alleyways and cave networks of this land can find it."

"I know this because I've spent most of my adult life as a smuggler. What I glimpsed in such places made my blood run cold on more than one occasion. At one point it bothered me so much I decided to give it up. I was frightened the network would try and get me involved. I knew if they did I'd refuse and refusal is as good as suicide."

"I met a woman at a shop in Masaeus who was kind and beautiful. She made me ache for a life of joy and simplicity. I courted her for a while and eventually asked her father for her hand in marriage. Much to my dismay he refused my proposal. He said only an honest man deserved his daughters hand which made me realize he'd been asking around about me."

"My reputation soured my chances to be happy it would seem, even when I was trying my hardest to escape that life. I was so angry I begged her to elope with me without her fathers blessing. Such a thing is very shameful in our culture Billanverthorne. We both might be killed if she agreed but I didn't care because I was being selfish. I assumed our happiness meant everything. I was wrong..."

"...The night we were supposed to meet and run away together, her father caught her packing some things. He became incensed and locked her away, then he asked some thugs in the neighborhood to do him a favor and make sure I never came near his home again. They left me near dead in an nearby alleyway."

"In truth at that moment I didn't care if I lived or died. I knew my chances with her were over and I believed the only good thing I ever had was gone. It was then they finally came for me. A man I remembered as a fellow smuggler named Athir seemingly happened upon that alley by happenstance and pretended to save me from my wounds."

"He brought me to a backroom in a tavern where he probably bedded whores and let me rest until I could sit up and speak again. Then he started in with the luring promises of revenge against my loves father and those thugs. He said he could 'make arrangements' to see them all disappear. He said all his fathers possessions could be mine, including his home. He promised I could have my marriage with her and live the rest of my days running that shop together, and none would ever be the wiser."

"I hated him for putting these notions in my head because I was almost tempted to say yes. The truth is I brought it all on myself. My past associations made me known to them. They only waited to approach me until I was at my weakest. In essence trying to escape them made me fall right into their trap. As I said refusal would be the same as suicide so I played along for a few days."

"I agreed to plant some black market goods in the mans shop and report it to the Vulfear. They'd confiscate everything he owned and throw him in prison. He assured me of course that my love would not be harmed. After I married her he promised a powerful friend in the city government would bestow the deed of his shop and home to me."

Jabbar pauses for a minute and switches out tea for wine.

"I snuck into the shop as I was asked, but instead of planting the goods I left a note warning them to flee the city. That same night I met with Athir and asked him to celebrate with me at the tavern. I drugged his wine and dragged him out the back. My intention was to take him to the local Vulfear headquarters and turn him in as a traitor. I had no love for the Vulfear of course, but in that strange circumstance whoever he served seemed to be the greater enemy."

"The drugs wore off sooner than I expected however and Athir started to laugh at me before I reached them, swearing my days were numbered. I told him he was going to rot in a Vulkyrie prison but that only made him laugh louder. He said the Vulkyrie were fools his masters kept in power only because they kept the people weak and disorganized. He said they would eventually be forced to kneel like all the rest."

"I couldn't stand the sound of his voice any longer so I pulled a dagger and held it to his neck to silence him. He merely grinned and suddenly tried to cut his own throat! I managed not to kill him instantly but he was bleeding out quickly. That didn't seem to bother him in the least however. He said his soul was already promised to his dark lord who would reward his service and his sacrifice."

"Somehow that conviction in his voice convinced me that I was more afraid of what might happen if I let him die than if I let him live. I put pressure on his wounds and drove my cart straight to the Shrine of Ishvar who's waters were known to have healing properties. However as soon as I approached it Athir went mad, screaming obscenities at me. Somehow he feared those holy waters more than death itself. I couldn't make him stop yelling, and I knew the Vulkyrie would hear it, so I strangled him in a panic."

Jabbar takes a deep drought of his wine and refills his cup.

"I left his body by the shrine and fled the city through one of my smuggling routes, never so happy as I was at that moment to have the skills and the means to be a smuggler again. I embraced my trade with all the zeal and fervor I had left in my soul, except this time I wasn't motivated by greed I was motivated by a cause to help anyone wronged by the Vulfear or the Black Network. Still I avoided Masaeus for almost twenty years, fearing Athirs contacts there would remember me somehow."

"It wasn't until I got word a couple years ago that my lost love's father finally passed from old age that I decided I should return and pay my respects. He was right to keep me away from his daughter after all. There was no such thing as a normal life for me I was just too naive realize that. Still I took precautions and wore a cloak, smuggled myself in and didn't speak to anyone."

"I observed his funeral and saw my love was now happily married with children. They didn't see me watching them or recognize me when I prayed, but something did. I sensed I was being watched and attempted to leave the city at once. Someone cornered me in an alley as I fled. It was Athir! Back from the dead! I knew it was impossible, yet there he stood as if he hadn't aged a day!"

"I told you I would be rewarded! He said with that same grin and evil laugh. Of course I pulled my sword and attacked him only to watch his form shift into something else... something too terrible to behold. His eyes glowed red, his grin elongated into a fang-filled maw and his hands grew long claws!"

Jabbar shudders and drains his cup of wine a second time.

"I battled him with all my might but I was losing. At least the sound of my yelling attracted Vulkyrie to the rooftops. They were just as disturbed as I was with that they saw, but their javelins flew indiscriminately." He says tracing the path of his scar absently with this finger. "Thankfully he was slowed down enough that I managed to make a run for it. Somehow I made it out of the city a second time... but I don't imagine there will be a third." He says matter-of-factly.

Tellerian Hawke said:

Bill continues: "Well, regardless of how organized, wide-spread, and fearless they are, the first step in taking them down is still reconnaissance. Instead of destroying low-level operatives, and wiping out tentacles, so to speak, we need to find a way to strike the head of the organization, a way to take out its top leadership. One way or another, this is going to come down to a fight. And I don't think it will be a fight that an army can win. It will be a surgical fight, and it will play out in some antechamber, deep inside the network's headquarters. I will, of course, honor your request to speak to the Elven leadership, and to ask for their help in this matter. But my words would carry much more weight if they could be backed by proof, especially something as valuable as the severed head of someone in a leadership position. Such relics reveal much to wizards powerful enough to use them properly."

Click to expand...

Avar: "Are you forgetting the network's headquarters is one of the most well fortified fortresses in all of Akhenaten atop a mountain overrun with legions of evil humanoids? It took my clan two hundred years of planning and sacrifice to finally escape that place and most of us died trying. Going back there without an army seems rather foolhardy to me..." He comments... but then adds. "...But who says we have to go there to get one of their leaders in our clutches? Jabbar just described how Athir still roams Masaeus despite his new-found form and evil powers. Surely his severed head would have many secrets to tell!"

Jabbar: Scoffs. "You've got to be kidding? I'm not going back there!"

Avar: Shrugs. "It doesn't have to be him necessarily. But Billanverthorne is right, we need undeniable proof of what we're dealing with if anyone is going to commit an entire army to our cause."

[Billanverthorne: What do you do?]

Ania, Ersun

p3sent said:

“Just a moment…” He says to Ania and quickly finishes off the two unconscious thugs beside him. Then he proceeds to indeed cut a hole for themselves if Ania hadn’t started yet by herself and sneak out the back of the tent.
“One of them only fainted. It would have been most uncomfortable for him to start babbling later...”

Click to expand...

As you emerge from the tent you find yourself in the common marketplace where most of the tribes trading gets done. Dozens of other tents are cramped together all around you. Hundreds of underfolk, humanoids and some dangerous monstrous humanoids roam through this market freely buying and selling a remarkable variety of goods. You've been through this market before, as has everyone of your tribesman, yet its exact configuration alters everyday. You are aware of certain landmarks in the market of course so there's no chance of getting lost, but it is easy to hide here.

Patrols of the warrior-caste, overseen by Warmages, keep the peace. You hear dozens of onlookers shouting for attention as the tent starts to burn behind you. Ania and yourself rush away as quickly as you can, squeezing yourself between other tents, pushing yourself through the crowds. You hear the orders of the warrior caste ordering the people to disperse so the Warmages can reach the fire and put it out.

After a short while, you reach the edge of the market and stop to rest in an alleyway. Ania looks at you with obvious fatigue. (Warmage robes were not exactly made for sprinting.) Her eyes are weary from more than exhaustion however.

Ania: Sighs. "I am so fed up with all this betrayal and infighting!"

[Ersun: What do you do?]