(IC) PLANESCAPE: Intrigue

[TaranTheWanderer]

Spoiler: Orris Hariri - Mini-sheet

Name: Orris Hariri Race: Air Genasai HP: 44/44 AC: 16 (18 shield)	Pass Perc: 10 Pass Inv: 10 Pass Ins: 13 Initiative: +2	Spoiler: languages Auran Common Speed: 35 Size: Medium
Lay on hands: 25/25 Divine Senses 3/5	Rapier To Hit: +5 Damage: 1d8+2	Spell Save DC: 15
Spoiler: Stats(saves) STR: 10 +0 DEX: 14 +2 CON: 14 +2 INT: 10 +0 WIS: 10 +1 (+4) CHA:18 +4 (+7)	Spoiler: Skills Deception: 10* Intimidate +7 Insight +3 History: +3 Persuasion: 7 *expertise	Spoiler: spells Slots 1st: [] [] [] [] 2nd: [] [] 1/Long Rest: []Feather Fall; [X} Levitate; Prepared spells Cantrip: Shocking Grasp; Toll the Dead; Decompose 1st Heroism; Shield of Faith; compelled duel; Charm Person*; Exped retreat* 2nd Locate Object, Invisibility*,Aid; Mirror Image*

---

"Not mine, but the Arch-Lector's... I'm one of his Hounds" he declared, standing a bit taller. The man slowly lowered his makeshift weapon. His shoulders lost some of their tension as he mulled over the appraisal. After a moment, he met Orris' gaze and gave a single nod.

"Give me 1000 jink, and I'll guide you lot out the quickest way I know," he offered. "But I'll be watching, make sure you don't try anything clever." The man pointed a grimy finger at Orris. "My home and these streets are under my protection. You'll abide by my rules."

"Are you saying you won't bring us without coin?"

Orris scoffs

"You must understand that People of Power reward those who take initiative : If one of my people reliably brings me information or can identify an opportunity and let me know? I keep that person close to me - in my entourage. I reward them. With coin, of course, but with so much more: prestige. power."

Orris's tone had a trace of menace to it,

"On the other hand, If I were to find out that same person refused to bring me assets that could help me in my goals for the petty reason of not getting paid? Oh. well. That person would be eating with the dogs."

Then, matter of factly,

"We will not pay your price and your Master will still find out about us - because that's what People of Power do. He will summon us and we will meet him. But will it be by your hand or someone else's?

Then he offered a challenge,

"So, Man, are you a Hound or are you a dog?"

---

Spoiler: OOC

Maybe a bit dramatic. But Orris likes drama and flare!
(Advantage - first roll): Persuasion: 1D20+7 = [19]+7 = 26
(Advantage - Second roll) Persuasion: 1D20+7 = [8]+7 = 15

 

[Nordom]

The ragged man pondered Orris' words and then nodded slowly. "Suppose you folks would want to get your bearings proper in a new place. There's an old portal, not far from the palace. Been boarded up for years, but might still be passable." He gestured down the street. "It's just past the royal court, in one of them old workshops nearby. I can take you that way, provide a bit of guidance so you don't get turned around."

The man gave them a gap-toothed grin. "Name's Garrick by the by, lived here all my life." He hesitated, glancing between the companions with a hint of wariness. For a brief moment, his eyes held a sinister gleam when Orris spoke forcefully, as if he'd been contemplating leading them into some deadly trap. But then in a twist, Garrick seemed to reconsider, his expression softening. "Actually, forget that portal notion," he remarked with a shake of his head. "Place has been sealed up tight for ages anyway."

He nodded towards the crumbling palace in the distance. "You'll be better off seeing what's happening at the old royal court. Bound to be folks there trying to get back, and might be a better chance of locating the original portal to Sigil that still works." Garrick gestured down a wider thoroughfare. "I can take you that way if you'd like."

He gave them a deferential nod, abandoning any scheming for now. "Pardon my manners earlier, got ahead of myself. Just want to do right by my hometown, best I can." Garrick's shift in demeanor seemed genuine. Perhaps the thought of exploiting newcomers had briefly tempted him, but his better nature won out. For now, he appeared ready to simply offer guidance, no strings attached

 

[Necropolitan]

Izek nods, his disdainful expression melting into interest with the possibility of escape.

"Excellent, lead on. The sooner we leave this place the better. And don't worry about this place, either it'll settle down or the Lady will do something if it gets bad enough. Wouldn't be the last time the whole town's been pulled into the Abyss and won't be the last anyway. The best you can do for your town is make sure you're still here when this is over."

Izek then places his hand on Garrick's shoulder as he stares directly into the man's eyes.

"And if you try to betray us you definitely won't be around for whatever comes next."

(OOC: Intimidation check: 1D20+7 = [12]+7 = 19)

As he moves to begin following Garrick, Izek turns to the rest of the group.

"We're better off together than apart and better off with at least some sort of plan. And anything worth looting is likely long since stolen."

Realizing the spell disguising his eyes is about to end, Izek turns away and quickly re-casts it using the powers of disguise magic granted to him by his pact. Fiendish eyes become to human green once more under the illusion.

 

[Li Shenron]

"Good! Let's leave this loot of ash and dust for someone else to plunder." drops Grim with an exaggerated sigh, to underline the sarcasm. She follows Izek behind Garrick, while keeping an eye on Jach from the distance... she has the feeling this won't be the last time we see the blue-robed mage.

Then addressing Garrick: "You speak of an old royal court... is there still someone in charge of your hometown? Has the plague spared their kin or else?"

 

[DammitVictor]

Kachilk'cha takes surprisingly reasonable precautions before examining the plague victims-- she hangs a waxed cloth over her mandibles, unfortunately making her look like some petty warlord's executioner, and pours half a flask of dwarven spirits over the cloth and the other half down her throat.

Wisdom +1, Medicine Proficiency +2: 1D20+3 = [18]+3 = 21

 

[TaranTheWanderer]

Spoiler: Orris Hariri - Mini-sheet

Name: Orris Hariri Race: Air Genasai HP: 44/44 AC: 16 (18 shield)	Pass Perc: 10 Pass Inv: 10 Pass Ins: 13 Initiative: +2	Spoiler: languages Auran Common Speed: 35 Size: Medium
Lay on hands: 25/25 Divine Senses 3/5	Rapier To Hit: +5 Damage: 1d8+2	Spell Save DC: 15
Spoiler: Stats(saves) STR: 10 +0 DEX: 14 +2 CON: 14 +2 INT: 10 +0 WIS: 10 +0 (+3) CHA:18 +4 (+7)	Spoiler: Skills Deception: +10* Intimidate +7 Insight +3 History: +3 Persuasion: 7 *expertise	Spoiler: spells Slots 1st: [] [] [] [] 2nd: [] [] 1/Long Rest: []Feather Fall; [X} Levitate; Prepared spells Cantrip: Shocking Grasp; Toll the Dead; Decompose 1st Heroism; Shield of Faith; compelled duel; Charm Person*; Exped retreat* 2nd Locate Object, Invisibility*,Aid; Mirror Image*

---

Orris, seemed satisfied with the answer and listened as they walked.

---

 

[Nordom]

Kachilk'cha paused, conflicted, as she held the empty vial over the seeping black ichor. This substance could hold vital clues about the plague, irresistible to her scientific mind. But was collecting a sample wise?

She recalled old legends of plagues reawakening from remnants thought destroyed. What if this ichor somehow retained the mystical disease's potency? An "inert" sample could become a deadly seed if she unknowingly carried contagion back to the living. Kachilk'cha's antennae twitched beneath her wax mask as she wavered. Opportunity beckoned her clinical curiosity, but her conscience as a healer gave her pause. Outbreaking plagues past had taught harsh lessons about tampering with forces not wholly understood.

The vial remained poised, awaiting her decision. Retrieve a sample, unlocking secrets but risking calamity? Or leave it undisturbed, shunning hazardous temptation for the greater good? She knew she was expert enough to take a sample without infecting herself, however it would not be something safe to have on her person - subject to breakage or theft.

Her companions had moved out of view by now. Kachilk'cha realized she must choose quickly.

To take or not take? Either way, she must live with the consequences, come what may.

===

Garrick flinched slightly as Izek grasped his shoulder, his eyes widened at the assassin's stern warning. He nodded quickly, holding up his hands.

"Y-yes of course, no betrayal intended," he stammered. "Just trying to help is all."

As Izek released him and turned to the others, Garrick's shoulders relaxed somewhat. But his gaze remained wary, realizing he's on thin ice with this dangerous stranger.

Straightening his ragged clothes, he made a note to keep a respectable distance from the intimidating assassin.

"Right, so...this way then," Garrick said hesitantly, gesturing towards the main road to the palace. "The old palace can't be more than half a mile on. Just stick close and we'll get there without trouble."

The calculating voice of reason spoke up, advising them to avoid the main thoroughfare ahead.

"The bulk of the plagued have been gathering that way, trying to break in," he cautioned. "Better to take Razorvine Lane instead. It winds around the back way, longer but safer than facing those hordes."

He gestured urgently down a narrow side street, glancing between Garrick and the others. "Don't throw yourselves into peril needlessly, the town needs less chaos, not more victims."

It was difficult to tell from their vantage which street was preferrable - the main road to the palace, or the path seldom travelled. The city was burning either way.

 

[DammitVictor]

Kachilk'cha wavered for seconds-- an eternity to her insectile reflexes-- before scooping up a sample and stoppering the vial. She wrapped the vial in bandages before stuffing it into a larger specimen jar, and then wrapped that jar in bandages.

She'd consumed the contents of an entire healer's kit. She hoped that the sample would be worth it... and she hoped her precautions would be enough.

 

[TaranTheWanderer]

Spoiler: Orris Hariri - Mini-sheet

Name: Orris Hariri Race: Air Genasai HP: 44/44 AC: 16 (18 shield)	Pass Perc: 10 Pass Inv: 10 Pass Ins: 13 Initiative: +2	Spoiler: languages Auran Common Speed: 35 Size: Medium
Lay on hands: 25/25 Divine Senses 3/5	Rapier To Hit: +5 Damage: 1d8+2	Spell Save DC: 15
Spoiler: Stats(saves) STR: 10 +0 DEX: 14 +2 CON: 14 +2 INT: 10 +0 WIS: 10 +0 (+3) CHA:18 +4 (+7)	Spoiler: Skills Deception: +10* Intimidate +7 Insight +3 History: +3 Persuasion: 7 *expertise	Spoiler: spells Slots 1st: [] [] [] [] 2nd: [] [] 1/Long Rest: []Feather Fall; [X} Levitate; Prepared spells Cantrip: Shocking Grasp; Toll the Dead; Decompose 1st Heroism; Shield of Faith; compelled duel; Charm Person*; Exped retreat* 2nd Locate Object, Invisibility*,Aid; Mirror Image*

---

Seeing the Thri Kreen make its way to the group, Orris asked, to no-one in particular but partially in response to the reasonable man's caution,

"So, this plague. Is it really a disease or is it a curse of some kind? What does it even do? Is it causing people to be aggressive or are they trying to break in into the palace for some other reason? It seems prudent to avoid violent crowds."

Orris looks towards Jach to see which way he's heading.

---

 

[Nordom]

The winding back alleys of Plague-Mort were choked with shadows and debris, a welcome respite from the raging infernos consuming the town center. Garrick led the motley band - the imposing genasi Orris, the assassins Izek and Grim, and the insectoid healer Kachilk'cha - down the circuitous detour routes only a lifetime local would know. The pungent smell of smoke still hung heavy in the air, mingling with the stench of death and decay that permeated the streets. Since entering the labyrinthine detour route, not a single soul had crossed their path, living or dead. An eerie silence prevailed, interrupted only by the distant crackle of flames devouring buildings beyond sight. Garrick seemed focused on remembering the way, and did not seem one for small talk.

Earlier, they had caught a brief glimpse of the arrogant mage Jach sauntering down the main thoroughfare before he disappeared from view, seemingly unconcerned by the chaos surrounding him. For now, Garrick was guiding them well away from the most perilous central avenues, past heaps of twisted corpses and rubble from collapsed buildings. The fires ravaging the heart of Plague-Mort seemed almost from another world in these shadowy backways.

They skirted a foul stream where the telltale black ichor of plague oozed like liquid midnight, a grim reminder that danger lurked around every corner.

In a few short minutes group arrived at a decrepit alley flanked by two imposing buildings that loomed like monoliths, their windows dark voids gazing out like empty skulls. Here the air grew heavier, weighted by a sinister aura that set nerves on edge. There was a sense of foreboding, as if this were the gateway to some gruesome revelation or trial ahead.