Adventure Path - The Shackled City

[Sebastian O]

Chapter One: Gone In The Night
Cauldron, Late Autumn, Just Before Nightfall

IC: Steady drizzle falls from the ash-grey sky. The crowded, rain-slicked buildings seem especially bleak and frightful this evening, hunched together beneath the tireless rain. A few lights burn in their eyes, but mostly their shutters have been closed for the night. The scent of chimney smoke fills the air, as does the din of water trundling from the rooftops, splashing into dark alleys, and turning street gutters into rivulets.

A sudden, plaintive cry for help splits the evening air. It seems to come from somewhere nearby.

Actions?

OOC: Please lead up to your character's response to the sound of the cry for help with a bit of recent background. How long have they been in Cauldron, what have they been doing, why are they out on the streets on a chilly, rainy evening?

A short time in the city is enough for all characters to gather a sense of the general state of affairs. Life in Cauldron is good overall, and people seem pleased with their Lord Mayor and town guard. However, they are worried about a recent string of disappearances and robberies. People have been taken from their homes during the night, and the town guard has been unable to identify the culprits, or or locate the vanished citizens. Moreover, the victims' homes were stripped of portable valuables. No place, it seems, is secure.

 

[shilsen]

Philip trudges wearily along the street, cloak pulled up over his head to make provide temporary (and quite ineffectual) protection aganst the drizzle. Bloody hell! he thinks to himself. Does it have to be raining the day I walk into town?

Shifting his backpack to a slightly more comfortable position, he walks on, trying to avoid the falling water as best he can, eyes flickering left and right in search of an inn which looks both cheap enough for his meager finances and safe/comfortable enough to stay in without having to meet either roaches or potential muggers. At the same time, he wonders idly to himself about the spate of disappearances and robberies one of the town guards had mentioned to him in passing.

The cry for help breaks into his thoughts and for a moment he wonders if he actually heard it. Quickly deciding to investigate, he hurries off in what he thinks was the direction the sound came from. He does not slip the shortbow off his shoulder, but keeps a hand close to it, in case it is needed. Time to be a hero! he thinks to himself, lip curling in ironic self-deprecation.

OOC: I'll post any unspoken thoughts of the character in italics, to separate them from whatever he actually says.

 

[Ry]

Kalte stands in front of some kind of shop, looks from building to sign, then shakes his head in disgust.

Words again. Why can't they put a big picture of a sword on the front? Hell, it probably says something like "Barneman's." Damnit! How am I going to find a weaponsmith if they don't have a proper sign!

Though drenched, Kalte is not bothered by the rain in the slightest, and chuckles to himself as he sees a miserable-looking local with his cloak up [Philip]. Kalte briefly thinks of asking him directions.

Then, suddenly, Kalte's glaive is in both hands, and his legs are moving fast under him - even before his mind really registers the cry. The local from the street advances in front of him, though Kalte is moving at full speed.

 

[jpwic]

Having been in town long enough to acquire himself a favorite tavern, The Golden Goblet, Thurgosh was on his way there to sample some of its wares and to ease a paticularily dry throat he has had all that day. All in all it was looking to be an especially fine night for Thurgosh.

"Ale and women, ale and women, nothig gets me blood moving like ale and woman" he silently sings to himself as he walks down the street.

"What in the nine hells was that!" he exclaims quite loudly as he hears the cry for help. "By Heironeous' swords, it sounds like its coming from around the corner." Pulling out his sword he roars and thunders off moving as fast as his legs will allow him too. As he is about to turn the corner he slows down a bit, mutters something under his breath, causing his sword to briefly pulse with a white light, and continues on running to the noise.


OOC He casts magic weapon on his sword as he gets close to the sound, but before anyone else can see him.

 

[Dragon-Slayer]

Demetrius gnaws on a pilfered chicken leg, sitting crosslegged in a discarded and half burned wooden barrel. All of these people on guard makes the pickings slim, he thought. No mutton, no pies cooling in windowsills.

Until recently the gnome had been squatting in an abandoned blacksmith's shop, then some concerned citizens, upon seeing lights and hearing sound (after all, he had to entertain guests, he had a few other gnomes and some halflings over over tea and revelry) he had been unceremoniously cast out into the street.

With a frown Demetrius pulls a bar of soap out of his pouch and washes his greasy hands in an old pot of collected rainwater until they are free of grease and oil, preparing to settle down in a nest of blankets for a few hours rest when he hears a cry for help pierce the night.

"One thing I cannot turn down," he says to himself, drying his hands on a corner of a 'borrowed' (and quite ornate) quilt, "is a plea for help. This soul hasn't gotten so calloused as to turn down a person in need."

Cautiously the rogue peeks from his new abode for lookers-on. Seeing none he exits the barrel, sliding the lid/door back into place and padding off quietly [Move Silently +4] into the rain in the direction of the sound.

OOC: Demetrius wants to approach the situation as quietly as possible to see what is going on and how he can help.

 

[Mimic]

"Ugh, does it have to rain so much here?" Aleria thought to her self as she walked through the city, she stops for a moment under an awning that provides partial protection from the rain. She leans her quarter staff up against the wall and attempts to wring out her hair and to examine it closer.

With a sigh she flips it behind her and grabs her staff. "I should have asked Kip for more of that lotion before I left, its going to be a nightmare to comb it out once I find a place to stay." Thinking of her mentor brought a smile to her face, for all his supposed crankiness he was a good man, he brought her in and treated her with care and respect.

With another sigh she walks back out into the rain. "First things first get a room and then tomorrow start checking out the elven sections, hopefully someone here will have some knowledge of her birth parents. More then likely just like the dozens of other cities that she has been to no one will no any..."

Her thoughts were interupted by the cry of help and instantly she brings up her staff in a defesive stance. She almost takes off towards the sound, but the the words of her mentor remind her that it wasn't unheard off for thieves to pretend to be the victim luring would be heros into a trap.

She pauses for a moment and casts mage armor on herself and then cautiously goes towards where the sound came from.

<hide +3 move silently +3>

 

[Sebastian O]

[OOC: Everyone moves towards the cry for help.

Thurgosh successfully casts Magic Weapon on his longsword, but remember, the duration is only one minute...which may or may not be long enough to do much good.

Demetrius makes a Move Silently check: Roll 8+4=12

Aleria successfully casts Mage Armor on herself. She also makes a Move Silently check: Roll 2+3=5, and a Hide check: Roll 2+3=5. Whew, that's some poor rolling! Sorry, Mimic! ]

IC: While moving in the direction of the cry for help, the sounds of some cursing and a scuffle can be heard, slightly muffled by the rainfall.

The characters follow the noises to the mouth of a mist-shrouded alley, where they see three figures assaulting a fourth, who lies face down on the wet cobblestones. One of the attackers lifts the victim by the hood of his cloak and thrusts him against a wall as another growls, “Stay away from the orphanage, you got that?” All three attackers have their faces painted half-white and half-black, like a crude attempt at a harlequin's mask.

The third attacker watches the street for intruders, and he seems none too happy at the assembly of curious onlookers that has arrived. To prove the point, he draws a short sword, and snarls, "Bugger off! This don't concern you! You too girlie, I see you creepin' in the shadows there!" [Yep, he spotted Aleria]

Actions?

 

[jpwic]

"Eat steel miscreants!" Thurgosh shouts as he charges at the closest of the attackers.

 

[Dragon-Slayer]

Demetrius prepares his sling for an attack. He wonders if the painted faces are supposed to be harlequins or represent his deity, Olidammara. However, seeing the odds are three to one, he doesn't hesitate to try to help out the person in distress. The gnome twirls the sling overhead, building up speed and trying not to draw attention to himself.

[OOC: Ranged Atk: +4 (1d3+4, x2, 50' range increment, Sling)]

edit: added ooc material only

 

[shilsen]

Philip is less surprised at the sight of the "mugging" than at the motley group of people who have congregated on the scene along with him. What do you know - I'm not the only interfering busybody in town!

Even as a husky dwarf with a shield as big as he is tall goes rushing by Philip, the young man smoothly pulls the shortbow into his hands and nocks an arrow. With barely a second's hesitation, he sends it at the attacker with the drawn sword [OOC: +2 to hit, or -2 if the target is already in melee with one of the other PCs].