Haven's Siege

[CaBaNa]

[sblock=context]

"...and you are right to be concerned for my person.

Lord Baltimore nods at the six human guards, armed with pikes, that were in the main hall of the tavern as he came down from his room the next morning. They didn't say anything as he broke his fast, a meal of eggs and cottage bread that was quickly prepared for him. This was his second night in Haven, and Lord Baltimore realized it was likely his last. He had convinced the tired barmaid, awakened too early, to sit with him, and Lord Baltimore's voice soothed her.

"An assault upon his majesty's person, in the form of an assault on me, might come at any time. Your care for his majesty's safety is most appreciated."

His smile is warm and sincere, as he mops up the plate with a bread crust.

He turns to the human Captain of the patrol. "I take it you are my escort from Haven? You wil lead me through the Forest of Sif?"

The Captain was nonplussed. He'd seen all types, of course, and his mum had told him to keep an open mind with people that don't look like you. He grunted, "Only two will take you across the valley. Most of us have real jobs keeping the city safe. From the enemy." The last three words were ambiguous, and might have been directed at Lord Baltimore, though he chose to ignore the insult.

As Lord Baltimore dabbed at his face with the cloth that had been provided, he merely smiled. It's easier to avoid conflict.

"Then I see no need to delay. Allow me a few moments, Captain, and I shall be ready to depart, grateful for your escort. Will there be any others travelling with us, south through the Valley? I should be grateful for some conversation on our journey."

Not waiting for an answer, Lord Baltimore excused himself, winked at the barmaid, who was less interested in the conversation than in the scar that ran from Lord Baltimore's chin, down his throat and disappeared beneath the silk cravat. He placed a few coins on the table to cover his expenses (and then some) and retired to his room to collect his belongings.

[/sblock]

A small figure, in robes colored by varying shades of grey, stands from the group, following Lord Baltimore.

The figure tiptoes as best he can, and stays completely still whenever Lord Baltimore turns around. The display would be horrifyingly scary, if it didn't look like a child playing red light, green light.

Slowly the figure gets closer to the entertaining speaker, and Lord Baltimore hears as if all around him a whispered word, I'd like to converse...

 

[CaBaNa]

[sblock=Context]

As he came out of the darkness, the huge goliath had to cover his eyes to avoid being blinded. As he adjusted his eyes to the light after walking through the long gallery, his eyes met the blue.
So Memnon saw the sea for the first time. It was beautiful, and dazing. A breeze of salty wind made his old scar tickle, and he instinctively scractched his nech, crossed by what might have been the mark left by an iron collar. Wore for a long time.
A small mouse came up his neck out of the scales of the goliath's armor, and climbed to his shoulder. Memnon gave him a soft stroke on the head with a thick, stony finger.
Pretty, isn't it, Filos? So much bigger than Lake Alsor...

[sblock=ooc]waiting for a couple answers befor adding in more detail...[/sblock]

[/sblock]

The Deva's head shot up, I don't believe I've seen a giant that size before, he thought.

In one motion he was both standing and walking, approaching the Goliath.

 

[Kobold Stew]

Slowly the figure gets closer to the entertaining speaker, and Lord Baltimore hears as if all around him a whispered word, I'd like to converse...

Lord Baltimore hesitates from his description of the regional differences of the way medallions are worn. The guards were, of course, flattered that he had noticed their decorations, but the moment's hesitation seemed to dissipate the spell of his voice.

He had heard a voice, but clearly not seen where it had come from, as the constabulary were leading him to the city gate. Narrow goblinoid eyes were never truly effective in broad daylight, where colours often reduced to shades of grey from the more vivid colours they detected when there was less luminosity. A moment's separation would surely be excused

"You must forgive me, gentlemen, but I have just remembered a debt I must settle with this tanner, who has provided me with this exquisite swordbelt." Hairy hands with thick clawlike nails display the workmanship, which has silver threads braided through the leatherwork.

Lord Baltimore opens the door to the tannery shop they are passing. The fumes of the urine used to season the leather keep the escort standing by the door, as Lord Baltimore disappears from their view for a moment to find a secluded space in the worker's yard, where he might meet the voice he has heard. A coin is in his hand to buy the silence of any employee who should wish to stop him. Needless to say, he has never been here before, and has owned the belt for years.

Lord Baltimore does not ask for credit.

 

[Alessandro]

[sblock=Context]

My condolences for your rug, I do so hate when mine gets soiled. I hope to one day adopt a more intelligent pet, so as to avoid that sort of mess.

Strutting around the corner, Pernicious forces his way into Skiff's consciousness. Unraveling the weak minded lackey's poor mental defenses, almost as fast as Amira worked the lock on her cell. The jailer makes a dash for the alarm, moving ten feet before he falls face first to the floor.


Pernicious turns to Amira,

Amalia, do be a dear and ask Skiff if we could borrow the keys to the evidence room? Don't worry about waking him, he is sure to be out for a few moments.

Skiff told me just before he nodded off that I will find my crystal ball in evidence. If you would rather leave right away, I would understand. Like you said hustle and bustle, first a nip off to evidence to pick up my Crystal Ball, and before you know it, doing "Maximum Security" busy work...

You steer the course, I'll accompany you. Don't go expecting everyone to be as lazy as Skiff though.




The Eladrin turns and takes down his hood to get a close look at his handiwork. Magenta orbs peek out behind a pale brow, the fey was nearly white in complexion. The wizard, like most, had hat hair, short purple locks in every direction.

Pernicious, outside of being pale, looked like any other Eladrin. He was even smiling, while waiting for Amira to answer.

[/sblock]

Swooping in on the sleeping form of Skiff, Amira unclips a ring of keys from his belt and tosses them to the nearby Eladrin. Leaning in close with her at near the jailer's mouth, she nods once and then twice as if listening to unconcious man talk. "You feel horrible about the inconvenience and would like to offer us gifts to show your remorse? Of course we forgive you, Skiff. We're not monsters..."

Amira lovingly patts skiff twice on the cheek and then removes his shortsword from its scabbered and a dagger from a thong on his leg. Removing the swordbelt from around her waist, she uses the leather garment to tie Skiff's hands and feet together behind his back.

Standing once again, Amira offers the dagger to Pernicious. "Indeed, I believe Evidence might have an item or two of my own hidden away somewhere. We should probably be quick about it though - I would rather not be in the building when someone finds poor Skiff. This is however, my first time here, and I'm not quite sure where Evidence would be. Do you know, perchance?"

Waiting for a response, the young woman begins to shift through the papers on the Jailer's desk, looking for anything that might tell here where Evidence is. When she occasionally comes across a paper referencing her or an Eldarin, she folds the papers in half and places them in her back pocket. She might as well leave as little information about them as she can.

 

[pathfinderq1]

[sblock=Context,x2]
Thanks for the warning, but it wouldn't be the first arrow aimed at her...still, she does dodge them much better when she knows their coming. He whistles to the falcon and it glides over to him. He whispers in it's ear before it flies off. As for being a guardian, I am the self-appointed guardian of this part of the forest...there are no posts nearby. He rolls a walnut around between his forefinger and thumb for a moment before tossing it in his mouth. He turns his head toward the shifters quizzically, Why are you looking for a guard post?

You seek aid, you say, and you ask of guards or patrols. And you look over your shoulder as if expecting orcs at any moment. As Vi'kandrix makes each point, he taps the butt of his spear on the ground as if for emphasis. Do the orcs invade in force? The nearest Eladrin community is a few hours north. Vi'kandrix points his spear northward as he says this, then sweeps it back to an upright position in front of him. Need they be warned?[/sblock]

Snarl continued to eat, gnawing on the rapidly-shrinking rabbit- perhaps he had not even heard the questions over his own enthusiastic devouring of the meal. Iceclaw looked from the elf to the shifter and back again- he wished for once that he had Piper's gift for words, to distill the situation into as clear a summary as possible... He sighed, just the softest hint of a growl in his throat. "We came through the mountains on the wing of some ritual, something the eladrin had provided to the elven refugees that we were guarding. I don't think we were supposed to be carried along- but the leader of the orc warband that pursued us was a shaman of some kind, and he felt the ritual being cast, then was able to twist it somehow. The elves went through, we went with them, and the orcs came as well. Then we were on this side of the mountains and all hells broke loose. The elves took off running, vanished into forest. The orcs came after us instead- we drove them back bloody, but they were too many for us to fight straight up. Maybe thirty to start with, led by a shaman- a lot less than that now. We moved out, playing seek-and-kill down the mountainside and into the forest. They wouldn't give up- nowhere else to go, I guess, and Piper killed one too many of the shaman's pets. We kept moving, hoping to run into a patrol or some guard posts- too many orcs for the four of us, but even a handful of elven bowmen would have fixed those odds. But when you want a guardpost you can never find one, and none of us knows this valley, or this forest, well enough... A few hours back, Piper got one of her 'ideas', and sent me and Snarl up ahead to find _somebody_- we thought she wanted guards, but maybe it was you two she was thinking of."

OOC: [sblock] This scene and the fight scene with Piper and Stonebear are happening simultaneously, and about 2-3 hours foot travel time apart in physical terms. The two scenes are meant to stay separate, at least for now. [/sblock]

 

[CaBaNa]

[sblock=Context]

Lord Baltimore hesitates from his description of the regional differences of the way medallions are worn. The guards were, of course, flattered that he had noticed their decorations, but the moment's hesitation seemed to dissipate the spell of his voice.

He had heard a voice, but clearly not seen where it had come from, as the constabulary were leading him to the city gate. Narrow goblinoid eyes were never truly effective in broad daylight, where colours often reduced to shades of grey from the more vivid colours they detected when there was less luminosity. A moment's separation would surely be excused

"You must forgive me, gentlemen, but I have just remembered a debt I must settle with this tanner, who has provided me with this exquisite swordbelt." Hairy hands with thick clawlike nails display the workmanship, which has silver threads braided through the leatherwork.

Lord Baltimore opens the door to the tannery shop they are passing. The fumes of the urine used to season the leather keep the escort standing by the door, as Lord Baltimore disappears from their view for a moment to find a secluded space in the worker's yard, where he might meet the voice he has heard. A coin is in his hand to buy the silence of any employee who should wish to stop him. Needless to say, he has never been here before, and has owned the belt for years.

Lord Baltimore does not ask for credit.

[/sblock]

The Hobgoblin notices, not for the first time this walk, that a small shadow is out of place. When he turns to get a better view of it, a loud sneeze alerts him to the exact space occupied by a Gnome in grey robes. Upon staring at the garment for a moment, Lord Baltimore loses the little fella.

OOPS, Sorry about that! coming visible again, the Gnome seems to be doing a two step, Part of my nature, can't help but sit still! the jerky movements of the dance are starting to slow down, I'll try to keep moving, so that you can see me, may I approach, that would make things easier!

His dance looking more like "the robot" than a two step by this point. The Gnome begins to edge forward in hopes he is allowed close enough that Lord Baltimore won't lose him when he stops dancing. After dancing a few steps into the store, the childlike Gnome becomes more definite. Just in time as well, because the small fey was stock still.

All at once the little fella was next to Lord Baltimore, little hand, jutting out. Which would have been startling, if he didn't look like a kid trying to play businessman.

I'm Baleful. This place smells, but thanks for keeping the guards out.

 

[CaBaNa]

[sblock=context]

Swooping in on the sleeping form of Skiff, Amira unclips a ring of keys from his belt and tosses them to the nearby Eladrin. Leaning in close with her at near the jailer's mouth, she nods once and then twice as if listening to unconcious man talk. "You feel horrible about the inconvenience and would like to offer us gifts to show your remorse? Of course we forgive you, Skiff. We're not monsters..."

Amira lovingly patts skiff twice on the cheek and then removes his shortsword from its scabbered and a dagger from a thong on his leg. Removing the swordbelt from around her waist, she uses the leather garment to tie Skiff's hands and feet together behind his back.

Standing once again, Amira offers the dagger to Pernicious. "Indeed, I believe Evidence might have an item or two of my own hidden away somewhere. We should probably be quick about it though - I would rather not be in the building when someone finds poor Skiff. This is however, my first time here, and I'm not quite sure where Evidence would be. Do you know, perchance?"

Waiting for a response, the young woman begins to shift through the papers on the Jailer's desk, looking for anything that might tell here where Evidence is. When she occasionally comes across a paper referencing her or an Eldarin, she folds the papers in half and places them in her back pocket. She might as well leave as little information about them as she can.

[/sblock]
Jumping back when the dagger is offered, Pernicious exclaims, Don't stab me yet! Oh, no thank you, I like being able to say I'm unarmed...

Pernicious snatches the keys out of the air, stuffing them into a pouch concealed in his robe.
Your education was well rounded indeed m'lady, excellent knot-work. Evidence is always decently close to the exit, for purposes of offloading. Watchmen are lazy, can't carry evidence further than were they searched an offender...

Amira finds several documents detailing the encounter Pernicious described.

[sblock=Details]

Incident Report: One Pernicious, herein after the accused, (Male, Eladrin, 6', 160lbs), came upon Haven Militia in the execution of their duties. The accused did willfully and purposefully impede those duties directly causing the death of an entire patrol.

When Watch arrived at the scene, both Militia and Orcs, lay dead. The only witness was the accused. Arcane blast marks covered both Militia members and Orcs.

Detective Noddingoff believes that the accused arrived during the battle, and began to cast magics into the fray without picking any particular target. Most of the ground was covered in residuum residue, a clear aftereffect of magical expenditure. Noddingoff believes that others may have been involved, but only the accused was apprehended at the site.

Suggested Action::::TRANSFER TO MAXIMUM SECURITY ASAP::::

Note: KEEP THE ACCUS*Coffee has washed away this writing* AT ALL TIMES!



[/sblock]

Pernicious leads, in a surprisingly stealthy manner, through the jail, eventually coming to a room marked "Evidence". He tries the door finding it locked, a hand darts into his robes, producing the key set.

After flipping through a couple he picks a small key, with an unusual pattern. Inserting it, the lock turns and clicks. The door swings open...

Ladies first,

 

[tiornys]

[sblock=Context]

Snarl continued to eat, gnawing on the rapidly-shrinking rabbit- perhaps he had not even heard the questions over his own enthusiastic devouring of the meal. Iceclaw looked from the elf to the shifter and back again- he wished for once that he had Piper's gift for words, to distill the situation into as clear a summary as possible... He sighed, just the softest hint of a growl in his throat. "We came through the mountains on the wing of some ritual, something the eladrin had provided to the elven refugees that we were guarding. I don't think we were supposed to be carried along- but the leader of the orc warband that pursued us was a shaman of some kind, and he felt the ritual being cast, then was able to twist it somehow. The elves went through, we went with them, and the orcs came as well. Then we were on this side of the mountains and all hells broke loose. The elves took off running, vanished into forest. The orcs came after us instead- we drove them back bloody, but they were too many for us to fight straight up. Maybe thirty to start with, led by a shaman- a lot less than that now. We moved out, playing seek-and-kill down the mountainside and into the forest. They wouldn't give up- nowhere else to go, I guess, and Piper killed one too many of the shaman's pets. We kept moving, hoping to run into a patrol or some guard posts- too many orcs for the four of us, but even a handful of elven bowmen would have fixed those odds. But when you want a guardpost you can never find one, and none of us knows this valley, or this forest, well enough... A few hours back, Piper got one of her 'ideas', and sent me and Snarl up ahead to find _somebody_- we thought she wanted guards, but maybe it was you two she was thinking of."

OOC: [sblock] This scene and the fight scene with Piper and Stonebear are happening simultaneously, and about 2-3 hours foot travel time apart in physical terms. The two scenes are meant to stay separate, at least for now. [/sblock]

[/sblock]I see. Orcs, presumably being led this way. And to have twisted a ritual as you describe...this shaman has power. Vi'kandrix twirls his spear idly, the tip looping in in a loose circle. I do not mind killing orcs, certainly, but neither do I go out of my way seeking harm.

Sighing, Vi'kandrix takes a moment to pull out a waterskin and drink deeply. He looks consideringly at the elf, and then turns back to Iceclaw, his tone brisk.

So. You have come seeking help. You have found us. Do you ask for our assistance? And if so, what do you offer in return?

 

[Redclaw]

[sblock=context]

"You should not travel alone so near of Thane's hold." hears Kolvram. He turns around and search for the origin of the sound when he see two small figure coming out from an hiding place in the cliff. The first is almost looking as a kid, but he is wearing a few daggers and a leather armor that have seem to have saved more than once his wearer. The second is a dwarf. He is carrying nothing except his clothes and a staff. "There might be scouts who go through our vigilance. They generally never reach the forest, but they might get as far as here before we can intercept them. Where are you heading?" continue the halfling.

[/sblock]
Kolvram, drawn from his deep meditative thoughts about the strength of the stone beneath him and the weight of his axe in his hand, turns and observes the approaching forms.

I go to the Hold, he answers with a respectful nod. Moradin has shown me that there lies the next vein of my destiny, and so I go to mine it. Hefting his waraxe, he smiles confidently. If I can't handle a few scouts, then I won't be much use to the Hold anyway.

He stops for a moment and looks back at the pair of travelers. So, you two are from the defense force? Has there been increased activity? My one question at the moment is why Moradin has chosen now for me to make this journey.

 

[Minirogue]

[sblock=Contexts]

Snarl continued to eat, gnawing on the rapidly-shrinking rabbit- perhaps he had not even heard the questions over his own enthusiastic devouring of the meal. Iceclaw looked from the elf to the shifter and back again- he wished for once that he had Piper's gift for words, to distill the situation into as clear a summary as possible... He sighed, just the softest hint of a growl in his throat. "We came through the mountains on the wing of some ritual, something the eladrin had provided to the elven refugees that we were guarding. I don't think we were supposed to be carried along- but the leader of the orc warband that pursued us was a shaman of some kind, and he felt the ritual being cast, then was able to twist it somehow. The elves went through, we went with them, and the orcs came as well. Then we were on this side of the mountains and all hells broke loose. The elves took off running, vanished into forest. The orcs came after us instead- we drove them back bloody, but they were too many for us to fight straight up. Maybe thirty to start with, led by a shaman- a lot less than that now. We moved out, playing seek-and-kill down the mountainside and into the forest. They wouldn't give up- nowhere else to go, I guess, and Piper killed one too many of the shaman's pets. We kept moving, hoping to run into a patrol or some guard posts- too many orcs for the four of us, but even a handful of elven bowmen would have fixed those odds. But when you want a guardpost you can never find one, and none of us knows this valley, or this forest, well enough... A few hours back, Piper got one of her 'ideas', and sent me and Snarl up ahead to find _somebody_- we thought she wanted guards, but maybe it was you two she was thinking of."

I see. Orcs, presumably being led this way. And to have twisted a ritual as you describe...this shaman has power. Vi'kandrix twirls his spear idly, the tip looping in in a loose circle. I do not mind killing orcs, certainly, but neither do I go out of my way seeking harm.

Sighing, Vi'kandrix takes a moment to pull out a waterskin and drink deeply. He looks consideringly at the elf, and then turns back to Iceclaw, his tone brisk.

So. You have come seeking help. You have found us. Do you ask for our assistance? And if so, what do you offer in return?

[/sblock]

There is a swift gust as two dead rabbits fall near Iceclaw and Snarl, and the falcon swoops onto the elf's shoulder. The elf watches as she makes frantic yet calculated scratches and pecks on his shoulder, followed by a loud shriek. It would seem that she has spotted your friends on the mountainside...along with the orcs who seem to have caught up. I doubt we could reach them before their battle is over. The falcon hurriedly flies off towards the mountains shrieking at normal intervals. Doubtful if she will make it there in time either...but not to worry, this forest contains many friends, surely there is someone near them that will get the message in time.


[sblock=OOC/spoiler]I may decide to try another character near the fight...haven't decided yet[/sblock]