Dark Days in Sion - Act 3: Scene 2

thisthingcantbedeleted · Nov 25, 2016

Ersun concurs

Ersun looked up at Burrai’s intent to go to the sewers. He blinked even more when Jabbar passed leadership onto the dwarf, and agreed to go the sewers. He took a look at Ren and tilted his head slightly, then looked aside in thought. He folded his hands in his lap, and looked at the meeting. He found it amusing that the veteran dwarf took charge so easily, but he figures it might be for the better.
“Rasul may or may not be waiting there anymore. I have sent a message, that in my hopes reached him, about us being stranded here due to circumstances , although I have received no response yet. Ren agreed that if you“ he looks at Jabbar. ”won’t meet him tonight then this is the next best course. He might have decided to wait it out, even if he did receive the message, or he could have left, trusting than Ren will get you to him somehow later.”
He pauses a little and then continues.
“We can not know, so if you are determined enough then it is still the best to go to the meeting place. Aletia seemed to arrive without trouble, and the rain is still an advantage. If you go, I will go with you, obviously. However, in my opinion only bring the people necessary” he glanced at Jabbar, Ren, and Burrai. ”and leave the rest on guard here. In such subtle situations less is more.” he expressed his opinion on the subject, and then adds as a side note: “I do approve of going now.”

He listens to the elven lady, but makes no comment on the nature of Aust's illness out of respect for privacy.

Hillsy7 · Nov 28, 2016

Burrai Steelborn

Another time perhaps there might’ve been more ceremony for the subtle shift in focus in the room. Jabbar, who had been – and arguably still was – the common factor drawing them all together, had finished moulding his clay, flash fired it, and would now see how it held. This new, fragile thing had now been placed into Burrai’s hands, scarred and burnt from forge and war, from hammer and axe. But in truth the events overshadowed everything: there was too much fear and anticipation in the room for the shift to be noticed, and though Burrai registered it somewhere in the part of his mind attuned to the important, he himself was immersed in the night’s events.

He gave a nod of thanks and appreciation to Jabbar; he’d built and led mercenary groups for decades, and wore the mantle of responsibility with comfort, but Jabbar’s words were as much for everyone else as they were for either of them. Ren seemed excitied – though that was unsurprising considering he’d been trying to get them to meet Rasul all evening. Leaving Elloral with Aust to try and contain/alleviate whatever lingering effects handling the amulet might’ve caused him.

“Perhaps you will let me assist further in some small way. I can now go to the Inn, leave your words for Master Burlock, and then return here before dawn and help your fine companions, Elloral and Aust, in their travel to the temple. After that, I will once again return to the Inn and await the safe arrival of those who seek to speak to my master. Perhaps I can help you present your case and concerns to him.”

Burrai tucked the pipe between his teeth and leaned back on the hearth. “Aye, Lass. That seems smart. Right now, with all we’ve got to do, having you nearby makes contacting everyone that little bit easier. I’m sure Elloral won’t mind someone to boss around – it helps her relax I think.” The Dwarven priest snorted, but Burrai caught the mirth in her eyes and gave her a quick grin.

“….. so if you are determined enough then it is still the best to go to the meeting place. Aletia seemed to arrive without trouble, and the rain is still an advantage. If you go, I will go with you, obviously. However, in my opinion only bring the people necessary” he glanced at Jabbar, Ren, and Burrai. ”and leave the rest on guard here. In such subtle situations less is more.”

Burrai had saved his neck, and that of his crew, more often sifting good advice from bad than pulling his own ideas from some dark fissure. The Underfolk’s advice chimed with his own, and their situation called for spreading resources thin. He ruminated on everything he’d heard that evening.

“I think that is wise, Ersun. Right now we have to work out what needs to be done and when. Bill said ge had potentially another asset we might get information from, Jarahdrin? He indicated he was meeting him in the morning? I’d suggest he and Avar remain here tonight, protecting the group, then when Aletia returns, going to speak with Jarahdrin together. Whatever insight he has may be helpful. In the meantime, Jabbar, Ren, Ersun and I will meet Rasul.

Hopefully by the time we are done, we will have struck some kind of agreement and start work on plotting out how to best spring the trap on Noro in those caves, and deal with the Cult of Vermithrax. Next we'll start on a plan to deal with these two Network scum, and can speak to Kayote about constructing yet another trap. Avar & Bill can meet us with whatever information they learned from Jarahdrin. Whatever happens, we’ll all meet here, at Jabbar’s before the contest begins at The Red Sands, or at least send word. In the meantime, I’m sure Elloral will be able to aid Aust, and figure out how to use that amulet to bait one trap or another. Aletia, I’m sure you will have some insight too.”

He scowled a little. There was a lot still unknown – in truth most of everything in the next half day was little more than information gathering. But few battles failed because of too much knowledge.

“If anyone has anything to add, please, speak freely. Otherwise, we are short on time and long on duties…” He left a long pause for anyone to speak, like a great, deep intake of breath…..

narayan · Nov 29, 2016

At Jabbar's Trade Shop

Jabbar: Nods at Burrai, tapping the embers out of his pipe. "That is a good start towards preparing ourselves for the worst. Very well. Ren can lead the way."

Elloral: Steps over to Burrai and places a hand on his shoulder, -speaking dwarven- "Stay alert old friend, I cannot carry my burden alone. To help ensure your axe-addled skull doesn't get you killed, I will cast a spell of comprehension so you might manage better without me." (Casts Comprehend Languages; effective duration: 80 mins)

Ren: Appears to grin, of a fashion, and quickly starts pacing around the room with tireless energy. Obviously happy to finally be able to do his masters bidding.

Avar: frowns, disappointed that he was not selected to accompany Burrai into the sewers; swallowing his pride like a hard stone he takes a seat by the hearth and begins to sharpen his axes.

Jabbar: Places a hand on Avar's shoulder as he steps past him, leaning down -Whispering- "I trust you will keep everyone safe Avar. If anything happens to me, I ask that you and Aust take up a partnership together. You are both naturals in the smugglers trade, I couldn't hope to find more suitable successors!"

Avar: Flinches, apparently unhappy. "This is no time to be thinking of business! We are surrounded by evils, can't you feel it?!" He exclaims.

Jabbar: "Business and duty are difficult to synchronize. You are selfless and brave, eager to avenge your clan. I respect that. I feel the warning in my gut as sure as you do that there must be a reckoning against the black network sooner-than-later. But there will always be evils out there Avar. We aren't destined to conquer them all!" He sighs.

"Battles come and go, some we choose, some we don't. Staying proactive about finding opportunities, regardless of conflicts, is the best way to prepare ourselves for them. Smuggling is not an easy path. Rarely is there rest, always there is risk, and never is there a time you don't have to watch your back." He states in the tone of a mentor, patting Avar on the shoulder before he steps over to Aletia.

Jabbar: -Speaking To Aletia- "I see why Kayote trusts you. There is a purity of purpose in your heart. You are not as fragile as you first appear. You are both eager and inquisitive for the right reasons. Obviously we are pressed for time so I must be brief in my answers to your question regarding Aust. He needs to visit the Temple of Ishvar for two reasons."

"Earlier this evening he touched an evil unholy symbol of the Cult of Vermithrax while searching a wererat cultist we captured. (At the time we did not know she was a wererat) This item carries a terrible curse! Aust must be cured as soon as possible or suffer a fate worse than death! No less important, we are concerned the Cult of Vermithrax may be planning an attack against this town. We have reason to believe they may be amassing nearby, below ground, as we speak!"

"Secondly, Aust was also poisoned by a half-drow rogue & assassin known as Chuth. Chuth peppered him with poisoned-bolts from a repeating crossbow. Chuth is apparently contracted to serve a local underworld crime-boss named Noro. Noro is a rival of Rasul, the present guildmaster of our local Thieves Guild. Noro is a brute, quick to violence and envy. He respects nothing and is capable of anything. He is the reason they say there is no honor-among-thieves."

"A local 'procurer of information', and spy-for-Noro named Vadik told us that 'very soon now, these streets will belong to Noro!'. What Vadik meant by that exactly is up for interpretation? We believe Noro considers us a threat. We know for instance that he hired Kong and his mercenaries to accost Burrai and Elloral earlier after he had his own thugs accost myself, Avar and Billanverthorne as we re-entered the town. It is unclear what Noro's allegiances are, but evidence suggests he is in league with the wererats for some dastardly plans that include seeing us all threatened or killed."

[Aletia: What do you do? There is not much time for you to discuss anything further with Jabbar without delaying everyone who is about to leave. Unless you intend to do that, you should only ask brief questions or else describe yourself taking your leave and heading back towards The Red Sands Inn.]

[Burrai, Ersun: What do you do? At this point, you can make final preparations or give final orders before I describe how Ren leads you into the sewers.]

97mg · Nov 30, 2016

Aletia: Returning to Rain

Hillsy7 said:
Burrai: “Aye, Lass. That seems smart. Right now, with all we’ve got to do, having you nearby makes contacting everyone that little bit easier. I’m sure Elloral won’t mind someone to boss around – it helps her relax I think.” The Dwarven priest snorted, but Burrai caught the mirth in her eyes and gave her a quick grin.

The young elf was pleased that her idea had been accepted. Yes, it would allow time for very little rest, but slumber and sloth was the last thing on her mind. A great pit of dark and squirming loss was slowly being filled. Filled with tasks, responsibilities, new faces and the first steps in a journey to understand why her mentor's life had been so horribly been torn away. It would also lessen hopefully, the potential for those dark and violent dreams to arise, for tonight at least.

"Thank you for your acceptance," she said feeling pleased, willing to play a role and particularly one which didn't involve crawling through conduits after solid spring rain. "I'm sure we will get along just fine," Aletia added with a wink to Elloral. Dwarves. Traditionally not the best company of the Elven kind, but she wasn't a subscriber to swift judgement. Everyone had a place in the world Vallio had said many a time, except of course Drow and those who sought to steal the lives and wealth of innocents.

narayan said:
Jabbar: -Speaking To Aletia- "I see why Kayote trusts you. There is a purity of purpose in your heart. You are not as fragile as you first appear. You are both eager and inquisitive for the right reasons. Obviously we are pressed for time so I must be brief in my answers to your question regarding Aust. He needs to visit the Temple of Ishvar for two reasons."

"Earlier this evening he touched an evil unholy symbol of the Cult of Vermithrax while searching a wererat cultist we captured. (At the time we did not know she was a wererat) This item carries a terrible curse! Aust must be cured as soon as possible or suffer a fate worse than death! No less important, we are concerned the Cult of Vermithrax may be planning an attack against this town. We have reason to believe they may be amassing nearby, below ground, as we speak!"

"Secondly, Aust was also poisoned by a half-drow rogue & assassin known as Chuth. Chuth peppered him with poisoned-bolts from a repeating crossbow. Chuth is apparently contracted to serve a local underworld crime-boss named Noro. Noro is a rival of Rasul, the present guildmaster of our local Thieves Guild. Noro is a brute, quick to violence and envy. He respects nothing and is capable of anything. He is the reason they say there is no honor-among-thieves."

"A local 'procurer of information', and spy-for-Noro named Vadik told us that 'very soon now, these streets will belong to Noro!'. What Vadik meant by that exactly is up for interpretation? We believe Noro considers us a threat. We know for instance that he hired Kong and his mercenaries to accost Burrai and Elloral earlier after he had his own thugs accost myself, Avar and Billanverthorne as we re-entered the town. It is unclear what Noro's allegiances are, but evidence suggests he is in league with the wererats for some dastardly plans that include seeing us all threatened or killed."

Jabbar's well spoken words were deeply appreciated. She listened conscientiously and although many of the names and allegiances meant little to her, there was no doubt that soon enough they would be fleshed out. There was much more to ask, so much more of Jabbar's openness with information which might aid her, but not now. Short term plans had been agreed on. In a fleeting space of time, just as Burlock had insinuated, she'd learned much. It was her duty now to return this kindness.

"Thank you everyone," she said with a bow as she retreated from the hearth's warmth. "To the Red Sands I go with haste, and before first light I'll return to do what I can. Hopefully I can see each and every one of you before the moon rises yet again."

She stepped towards the door and curtseyed, before politely excusing herself. "Please do not be alarmed, I must lift my shroud to assist in safe passage."

[Casts Disguise Self, 40min duration, +10 to Disguise check. Willpower save for any interacters to recognise the illusion.]

Before their very eyes, a trail of silver fog swept up from her boots, wrapping around her slender legs, between the folds of her dress, and upwards to the top of her head.

What was once a stunning vision of tireless youth and elven classiness, changed to that of a lacklustre human boy. An urchin. Lanky in form and soiled as though part of the very roadside filth in which he must live his days. Her neat backpack was now a humble hessian sack, lined with grot and traces of mildew. Her weapons became mere sticks, bundles of damp wood on a prematurely hunched back. Wearily the boy raised an arm to wave goodbye, and then Aletia was gone, stepping out into the night.

[sblock=Aletia Stats]

ALETIA - Shining in the darkness

Sheet: http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=725599
Level 4 Sorceress Init 3, HP Max: 22 Current: 22, Speed 30ft
AC 14, Touch 13, Flat-footed 11, Fort 3, Ref 4, Will 4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Longbow +5 to hit / D8 damage (+1 point blank +1 with magic arrows)
Longsword +2 to hit / D8 damage

Familiar Crez (Tiny silver viper) Init 3, HP Max: 11 Current: 11, Speed 15ft
AC 19, Fort 2, Ref 2, Will 4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Poisonous Bite +2 to hit / D1 damage (+poison)
Abilities: Deliver touch spells, Alertness, Improved evasion, Spare spells, Empathic link

[/sblock]

narayan · Nov 30, 2016

In the lair of Kumbakarna

Svexyn said:
As the glaring eyes of the demon seem to relay that Wrenwil's spell took hold, Svexyn can only think to take advantage and try to bring the beast to it's knees. Moving towards the foe, his chain begins spinning, with the sound of the spiked end being able to be heard even above the crowd's murmuring. Getting near the foe, Svexyn makes sure to leave room for Alic, as he hopes the next move can give the other warrior some room to work.

Your chain snakes around the demons neck giving anchor to your pull. It's bulk and size does not make it easy to bring down, even completely immobilized, but you manage. (Successfully rendered foe as 'prone', lying on its face) As you whip your chain down at its bruised arm however, its hide proves too tough for your spikes to pierce. (0 Damage dealt)

[Note: Flanking does not work against a helpless opponent. Also technically I should not have allowed the trip attack to target the neck without a penalty for a called-shot, but I will let that slide this time. However if you attempt to target the neck again with a trip attack there will be a called-shot penalty. (Trip attacks normally only target the lower extremities without a called-shot penalty.)]

Demon: (Saving Throw vs. Wrenwil's Hold Person Spell, DC 16: =16, Saves)

Svexyn said:
Svexyn's chain reaches out towards the neck of the beast, hoping to topple it down to the ground, should the spell from Wrenwil fail to hold it much longer. The strength of the foe can be felt in the weight and tension in the links of his chain, as Svexyn pulls with all his might.

The burnt warrior wielding the spiked chain can only hope that his attacks manage to get by the beasts defenses, as Wrenwil's spell had given them the quick advantage that he had hoped to use himself. "FINISH HIM OFF QUICKLY!" He bellows, hoping that the demon doesn't get the chance to retaliate. He is not sure how much more he can take this night...

Demon: (Forced Re-Roll of Saving Throw vs. Wrenwil's Hold Person Spell, DC 16: = 4, Fail)

Alic rushes towards the demon, the gleam of a wicked idea in his eye. As he moves adjacent to Ordechai and the demon (Move Action) he doesn't strike at it with his axe. He actually drops it at his feet (Drop an item= Free Action) freeing his hand to reach for something in a pouch as he kneels beside the demon. (retrieves a stored item = move action).

Alic: -Speaks to Ordechai, gesturing to his hammer- "Strike hard and strike true!" As he pulls a large iron spike out of his pouch and places it at the base of the demons skull.

Ordechai: Swings his hammer down with all his mighty rage-enhanced-strength to plunge the spike completely through the demons skull with a sickening crunch. The point of it actually pierces through its face!

Panting, the half-dwarf raises his one-eyed gaze up towards their host, the mighty Kumbakarna. "ARE YOU ENTERTAINED?!" He asks through clenched teeth.

Kumbakarna: Glares down with open coals for eyes, his huge hands balled into fists, seemingly enraged before he grins and laughs heartily, the cave echoing and booming through his mirth. "You are tougher than I expected Ordechai-the-mule! WELL DONE!"

Ordechai: Takes in a deep breath of relief. "Great Kumbakarna, we will of course present our gifts to you as custom demands. But I beg that you first open your gates and allow us to rest in the shelter of your great mountain, so that I might speak to my old friend Euthrius?" (Diplomacy Check: =12)

Kumbakarna: (Diplomacy Check: = 10, Fail) "I will allow you to rest and present your gifts after the sun rises. However until then, those gates remain shut! I will allow Euthrius to be brought to you until then. Do not presume to forget that he is not free to leave these hills unless I say!" He states with finality, moving away from the alcove into the upper passage, his wives and family quickly following at his heels.

Much of the hill tribe also departs, yet a half dozen or so remain by the fires observing you with some curiosity. The guards meanwhile, remain where they stand, crossbows still cocked-and-loaded.

Wrenwil said:
With it all done... for now, Wrenwil relaxed the tenseness in his bones, and as much of the progression departed, gratefully dropped his defensive stance.

"Hail Pentos," he said to himself quietly, before wandering next to his colleagues, his staff tapping the ground as though a three-legged walk.

Arriving at the carcass of the foul demon, he looked down with unfathomable disgust, and tapped and prodded the remains with the butt of the age-old stick. Sure that this wasn't a dream and that indeed the "pet" was carrion-food, he then looked to his friends.

"Well lads, I'd say that went rather well, except of course for the little twist in the ending."

The old cleric gifted Oredchai as best a reassuring smile as he could muster.

"You have immeasurable gifts my friend, and should I live to see the innards of a fine bar again, I look forward to telling of the man I once knew who could both rage and negotiate in the blink of an eye."

He looked to Svexyn. "I am honored your place is with us friend," and then Alic, "it is almost as if you have done this before? Your quick thinking and skills in using steel to its utmost effect do honor to you and your kind."

Wrenwil took a half-step back, and stated the obvious. "We did this. Together."

As he regarded his colleagues, the poor old man's expression changed somewhat, from the surprise and joy of being granted a few more moments of life, to that of seriousness and deep concern. It was like a cold wind had blown across his face as further words were spoken.

"Yet, as always in this land it seems, we are not done. There is much that troubles me, starting with where..." He poked at the demon's motionless form again, "...Kumbak attained this."

"It is unholy. It is stain upon the world of man, and an adversary that through Pentos I am sworn to hate, fear, and destroy, with all my soul. I dare not tell you now, but hear this, this here..." Again he poked. "... is just one. One foul unholy beast. Like lice on a slave's head, like leeches in marsh, like maggots in old meat, where there is one... there are more!"

"But still," he continued, "we need to survive this night."

He dropped his tone and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Ordechai, our fine host speaks of the gifts you warned us of. Of what value do you surmise is enough to fill this Bumkrak's appetite? We are all friends here, so I will have you know that coin most probably isn't a problem, but what of our friends here? Alic? And moreso Svexyn who walks with the wealth of a dead-man? I still carry the Keu's artifacts... and if you deem wise, can perhaps... shall we say... redistribute our wealth? For what price have you previously won a barter with this man?"

Svexyn said:
Hears the haunting words that echo his own thoughts. "It is true... I carry the wealth of a dead man..." as he plucks out the small green opal that survived the fire.

"This was Asusk's wealth, yet he is now dead. It is all that remains of him. I have nothing else but coins. Not enough likely to satisfy his thirst for gifts, but as the old cleric stated; we are stuck together for now."

Looking towards Ordechai, he nods, as if coming to a silent agreement. "If there is need of me to buy a gift to present to our host from you, then the coins are yours Ordechai."

Svexyn has 39 gp, 20sp, and 26cp willing to hand over to Ordechai. He intends on keeping the gem as a reminder though

Ordechai: Smirks "Kumbakarna has no need of coin, nor gems. He's collected enough of those in his very long life to put kings to shame! What Kumbakarna lacks is knowledge of the lands and wonders beyond these lonely hills. Why do you think he offers shelter to so many strangers, merchants and smugglers? He craves to hear stories, debate history, sample new food and drink. New tales and experiences hold as much value to him as all his wealth!"

Wrenwil said:
Allowed himself the smallest of grins at this newfound discovery.

~So Bumkrak is a man of fine arts, tasteful discourse, politics and intrigue?~

The old cleric released a light yet audible chuckle.

"So friends, the man who takes demons as pets has finer tastes it seems?" He looked to Alic and Svexyn, "this is good news... if you will call it that... I dare say as far as stories, knowledge and information goes... we each have something to impart upon his ears, yes? It allows for some... creativity so to say. We will find a way to make this work..." He said with a wink.

~Resort to lies if you must...~

The issue of "sustenance" was next on the agenda.

Ordechai: Ordechai then attempts to barter with the tribesman, asking for some of their food. "That gem might buy you a nice leg of lamb however Svexyn!" He chuckles.

Wrenwil said:
followed his friends to the gate and asked, "Ordechai, Alic, Svexyn, do you speak their tongue? I do not... however if it should assist I can ask of Pentos to at least make that gutteral clicking comprehensible. I am wary however, that such an ability might be best saved for rewards other than lamb-roast, though it seems a wise move to breed trust and make friends. Also... if you can communicate... then invite the one we injured here to the bars and I will heal him in an act of good faith."

~Trail rations. I have enough... but the mention of lamb has my lips wet with desire!~

Wrenwil's course of action depends on the group's reply. Notes for consideration: Wrenwil's Comprehend Languages spell is available for use, however the subject needs to be touched first. I dare say tickling the wrist of a tribesman through the grate won't be an easy task. If we need to soften them up with Diplomacy, Wrenwil is happy to try but only has +2 in this. Sensing Motive is more his style with +4. Perhaps these people would respond better to a brave and strapping fighter rather than a grumpy looking old guy...

Beyond the fence demarking the far end of Kumbakarna's cave are six tribesman, all with the same disturbing ghostly-white paint over their faces mimicking bleached skulls. The oldest one squats by a fire carving a turkey with a crude obsidian knife with badly tattered sheepskin cloak across his back. An equally old and wrinkled female sits cross-legged beside him clutching a young lamb to her bosom like a babe. Four more males stand around a second fire eating lamb. Of these four two are full-grown adults, two are barely teenagers. Yet all are armed with sharp flint or bone-tipped spears, knives and clubs.

The best armored of them wears a hide-breastplate reinforced with scapula and rib bones, an elaborately painted cayote-skull tied over one shoulder like an epaulet-of-sorts. The other three wear plain hides. One carries a wooden shield, two more have hide-shields while the leader has only bracers reinforced with large fangs. As they stare at you all hatefully, they pass around a leather-handled clay jug with a wooden-stopper at the bottom. Occasionally someone hefts it up to their shoulder and plucks out the stopper filling their drinking-horns with some sort of fermented sheep's milk.

Ordechai: "I've picked up a few words of their language after so many years visiting this cave. Enough to make my intentions known at least..."

As Ordechai approaches the bars, the two youngest tribesman angrily shake and stab their spears in his direction. Ordechai lowers his gaze, resting his hammer at his feet, keeping his hands wide and open as he utters the phrase... "Quttıqtaw!"

The youth's stare with surprise, angrily rattling their spears against the bars as they answer. "ARTQA BOLIñIZ!"

Ordechai: "Me sawda! Me sawda!"

This phrase in particular attracts the attention of the elder tribesman cutting greasy meat off a large turkey into a crude bowl made from the skull of a goat. The old one mutters something to the youth's, prompting them to take a step back immediately, as the old one turns to Ordechai you notice his chest is badly scarred, as if whole chunks of flesh were gnawed off his ribs. He looks expectantly at Ordechai yet says nothing. Ordechai reaches for his coin purse and grabs a fistful of coppers as an offering. The old man says only, "joq"

Ordechai: Frowns. "That means no. I'll be damned if this old dirt-eater doesn't make me pay in silver for some greasy turkey!" He mutters.

[Svexyn, Wrenwil: What do you do? If you want to attempt to barter, include a Diplomacy Check and an appraise check in your post.]

97mg · Nov 30, 2016

Wrenwil: Getting a light under it

~This cursed land is well to full of extremes! Weather. People. Cultures. And now this!~

There was some dark humor in it, but the aging cleric of Pentos didn't really see it that way. Foreboding was slowly returning to his bones again, as the emotional high of the demon's defeat was replaced with lowly begging and grovelling for food. He really had had a gut-full, but not of anything containing sustenance! Trial after trial after trial. Back home, he pondered, their incredible slaying of the foul clawed beast would have been fit for a song and a merry-ol'-tale with which to brag relentlessly. Here however, killing evil's work didn't even guarantee a bloody meal, although it might allow one time to take a few extra half-starved breaths.

Convincing people. Diplomatic gesturing. Playing games balancing needs against reward. None of these things were Wrenwil's strong point. Just because you are wise, doesn't mean that you are charismatic or respected, not by people like this at least.

He stood behind his colleagues, listening to Ordechai's bizarre intonations.

narayan said:
Ordechai: "Quttıqtaw!"
The youth's stare with surprise, angrily rattling their spears against the bars as they answer. "ARTQA BOLIñIZ!"

"I've heard these sounds before..." he said with a wry smile. "...coming from the surgeon's bench, lying upside down with leather strap between the teeth, and a red hot lance playing with one's piles."

Wrenwil chuckled a little. Aside from the blazing gifts of his God, moments like this would get him through, an extra touch of old fellow grit to spice things up. Then his thoughts returned to half-starved breaths again, and he had an idea. First though, he'd try and help the youngster Svexyn, with something constructive.

[Appraise Lamb Shanks local value. Roll = 4 (including +3 modifier )]

Well, sadly nothing constructive came to mind. Lamb? He hadn't seen any free-roaming animals that innocent. There had been no indication of land set aside for a peaceful rural life either, that he had so far seen here. In all honestly, he had no clue, no idea at all, what the price of such a meal might be. Surely if his team could kill a demon, then it would make sense that only the best of guards be on duty this eve. The kind of guards that could afford a luxurious delight?

He shrugged, offering Svexyn a humble frown. "Don't ask me, I have no arse-breathed idea. That doesn't mean their isn't a carrot on my stick though."

With the guard's attention now on Kumbakarna's guests, Wrenwil set his pack on the ground in front of him and set about a rather over-acted sequence of events. He poked and prodded around inside it with his narrow wrinkling phalanges. He groaned as he searched inside. Then he retracted a small pouch, a pipe, and flint n' steel. With a wink to his colleagues, the old cleric rubbed the sweet tobacco in his palm, letting it warm and moisten from the sweat on his palms. It was dropped into the pipe, fussed over a little, and then lit.

With a deep grin, Wrenwil took in a mighty lungful of Chivalran baccy. The good stuff. Sweet as rum and aged as old oak. It was exhaled in a thick waft of oozing delicious smog. He held the trusty pipe out to Svexyn.

"Want some?" He asked.

"For a man arisen from the dead, smoke and flames, I doubt this would harm you in any further ways. All I ask is that you pretend to whole-heartedly enjoy it. Immensely. Let us see if we have something which tickles these bone-head's interest huh? A foreign pleasure. At worst, it does help reduce one's appetite somewhat."

[sblock=Wrenwil Stats]

WRENWIL - a tough old boot on a terrible holiday

Sheet: http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=209300
Level 4, Init 2, HP 20/27, Speed 30
AC 15, Touch 13, Flat-footed 13, Fort 6, Ref 3, Will 10, Base Attack Bonus 3
Masterwork Staff +7 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5-1/5-1/4-2

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thisthingcantbedeleted · Dec 1, 2016

Ersun, ready to go

Ersun nods at Burrai and smirks at Ren, amused at how active the little man became. “Shall we then?”
He makes sure he has everything on himself, and prepares himself mentally for the rain to come. Meanwhile Jabbar speaks to Aust, and then Aletia bids farewell. He nods to her, must amused when she turns herself into a little street boy. “Until next time, Aletia.”
That is a clever trick of hers, a trick that would be most useful for him as well in this foreign land. He has his own tricks but that is a missing one.

“Jabbar, thank you for the hospitality and for accepting the invitation.” he comments amicably and shows a gesture of respect, glad that their trip bores some fruit.
It seems his journal writing has to be postponed again, but then again he has been only here for some hours, it can wait. However, when he does there will be plenty to write about. He awaits the group to move out patiently by the door. While he does so he humms a little song quietly, one he knows as hall of the underking.

He is ready to follow wherever Ren leads them.

Hillsy7 · Dec 5, 2016

Burrai adjusted his shoulders until the plates of his armour settled more comfortably – he hadn’t realised how tense and eager for action he’d become. Well, that was a lie – the frustration he’d felt building all evening, but he didn’t think it would affect him physically. He tapped out the dottle of his pipe onto the fire and hung his shield on his pack, axe at his hip.

“Avar.” Burrai moved over and clapped a hand on the hill dwarfs shoulder, sensing his agitation. ”As much as I’d like to have you buy my side. I need you here protecting Elloral. What she is protecting is a far worse evil that Noro and those Network criminals. I wouldn’t be surprised if you sank your axe into something evil before the dawn comes. I trust you to keep her – and Aust – safe. And tomorrow we’ll regroup to hopefully strike the first of many bloody blows to the Network.” He patted Avar on the shoulder and turned back to Jabbar and the Rhat.

“Well, Time is not stretching for us. If everyone is set, lead the way Master Ren.” And like that the tesion in him snapped. He they were underway, moving on their terms at last. All those years spent brooding over books and history, eschewing action in favour of research. It was like stepping out into the light. To face the oncoming darkness….

narayan · Dec 8, 2016

Aletia

97mg said:
She stepped towards the door and curtseyed, before politely excusing herself. "Please do not be alarmed, I must lift my shroud to assist in safe passage."

[Casts Disguise Self, 40min duration, +10 to Disguise check. Willpower save for any interacters to recognise the illusion.]

Before their very eyes, a trail of silver fog swept up from her boots, wrapping around her slender legs, between the folds of her dress, and upwards to the top of her head.

What was once a stunning vision of tireless youth and elven classiness, changed to that of a lacklustre human boy. An urchin. Lanky in form and soiled as though part of the very roadside filth in which he must live his days. Her neat backpack was now a humble hessian sack, lined with grot and traces of mildew. Her weapons became mere sticks, bundles of damp wood on a prematurely hunched back. Wearily the boy raised an arm to wave goodbye, and then Aletia was gone, stepping out into the night.

As you step once more into the rain, strolling back towards the Red Sands Inn you suddenly get an eerie sense of being watched...

Aletia: (Fate Pool Spot check: =20)

A quick glimpse behind you allows you to spot two furry forms moving in behind you in the on either side of an alleyway near Jabbar's Trade Shop. By the look of their snouts and the length of their fleshy tails they can only be rhats! City-rats to be exact by the shades of their black and grey fur. Each one watches you with large eyes bearing a reddish tint.

Just as you consider evading the offensive creatures (which you could likely outrun) a third figure emerges from a branching alleyway in front of you. This one is human, probably Akhenaten by the shade of their face beneath several days worth of scruffy black hair curling off his cheeks and chin. He stands at a height of 5'7", probably in his twenties, thin and quick in his movements as he watches you approach with a sidelong stare within the shadowed hood of a wet cloak. At this hip is a short sword and a long dagger.

Stranger: "...Boy! Tell me what you were doing in that shop back there? Be honest or you're going to get hurt!" (Bluff Check: =20)

[Aletia: What do you do? Make a Sense Motive Check. Roll initiative if you intend to attack, cast a spell or otherwise attempt an escape.]

Fangor the Fierce · Dec 8, 2016

Svexyn

Svexyn's whole night had now ended in this caged arena. They had lost so much in such a short span of time. Folg, Mogan, Asusk... hell, even Bax had been lost. Now, the four remaining people were prisoners for some amusement. But the amusement was short lived, as the hulking demon sent to destroy their hopes had been dispatched without hesitation. Somehow, this motley crew of unknowns seemed to have worked together in perfect unison. Was that another fleeting glimpse of hope, showing itself, only to be pulled out from Svexyn once again?

~What little hope has been snuffed out. Now, justice will be found, one way or another...~

As he contemplates his situation, Wrenwril offers him his pipe, noting that he should overplay it's effectiveness in hopes of gathering the means to barter with the nearby savages. His clothes tattered, burned, and disheveled, Svexyn takes the pipe from the old man.

"Let their deaths not be in vain, as someone will pay for this night's treachery. To the fallen.." he adds, as he takes a few deep puffs. His eyes widen, as he forces a grin at the effects of the offering.

"You are right; this tobacco is the best..." as he hands over the pipe back to Wrenwril. He slowly puffs out the ring of smoke, allowing the tobacco to hopefully relax his mind, as well as his body. His coughing seems to creep up on him, as he can't seem to handle the tobacco and the recent event of being engulfed in flames.

[sblock=Svexyn Bluff]Bluff +12 for the effects of the tobacco to be conceived as 'the best' Bluff Check = 13 (Natural 1 on the Roll)[/sblock]