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Weel: Ritter Helm laughs. "Ah, Master Weel, you demonstrate a mind more piercing then you often let on. Agreed--passion is what drives negotiations." Kithera snorts. "Coin is what drives negotiations. Passion prolongs them." Glancing to the side, she suddenly snaps to attention. "Izara...

The party rests that night, with no difficulties whatsoever. Next day...

Weel: Heading back to the barracks, Weel is surprised to pass a group of forty or so individuals dancing in a large field. Well, 'dancing' might not be the right term--they instead cycle between various positions in a flowing, graceful manner. One three-quarters the group carry...

Well, Nephtys, seeing as you've finished your character, if you just give me a little while, I'll get you hooked up with the townies. Like now.

Graevel: As Graevel circles round the tent, he hears the sound of a frenzied discussion in Nibelungen. He can't make out the words, exactly, which seem to be in a strange dialect, but it is the tongue of his people.

Umm--so--any more--interested players? Please? Anybody?

Kessel, with a nod, accepts the coins, and glances at Granthus. The majordomo responds by quickly bringing a packet to the group, which he hands to them with a flourish. Kessel nods, and then glances at the recruits. "Well, you got what you came for. Now out of the Emporium."

It takes another hour to gather the stones for a cairn. By the time it is done, the sky is getting dark. The perfect time to sleep.

Fortunately, stealth is not this pickpocket's specialty. You easily spot the Cob rushing through the crowd, and into a large purple tent at the edge of the street.

It takes an hour, but the party is able to haul all the corpse bits out. While they do this, Devon heals Heamor's wolf, giving the beast an affectionate scratch on the head. The party is disappointed to discover that the ground outside is bare rock--unsuitable for graves. Still, they could...

Liev tips over the first jar, after which Marcus and Heamor slice at the zombie, easily chopping it to ribbons, a course of action that is repeated at the second jar. The pair now have a room free of any ambulary zombies, though the rotting remains of non-ambulary ones are quite prevalent.

Graevel: As Graevel walks, he's startled when one of the wild Nibelungen--a Cobnyeu, is what a true Hob calls them--bumps into him, and then scurries away, without even an apology. He thinks nothing of it at first--but then realizes his purse is gone.

Pan Chou bows. "As a servant of the Empire, it is my duty to see to the well-being of its inhabitants--man and spirit. I will be proud to escort these fine people."

OOC: Yep. Like fingers idly clawing at clay. IC: Liev checking the various disgusting remains of the zombies discovers, much to his distaste, that the Azerai apparently felt no urge to leave valuables on the undead they stuffed into jars.

Devon casts cure light wounds on Liev, restoring him to health. The wolf tears into another zombie, and then Marcus, with one terrific chop, cuts through the last two zombies. The room is now filled with the pieces-parts of these necromantic constructions. And two jars, making skittering noises.

Well, the Syrans and the Khuldeshians often clash with each other, and it's not unheard of for the Syrans to employ Jannissaries in these campaigns. Given that the Society of the Slaying Hand traditionally trains its members from orphans of those it kills, I think there's potential there. And...

Devon slices at a zombie, but misses, then falls back. The wolf maneuvers around the zombies, and attacks one from an angle, tearing at its side. Liev launches an acid ball at the one he hit, splashing it lightly on the side. Marcus attacks, slashing the one the wolf injured in half and then...

Nephtys--seeing as your character's stats are done, do you want some help coming up with the background? If so, the best thing would be to tell me what you want it to be like, and then let me help you iron out the details...

Kessel's flabby lips spread in a grotesque grin. "HA! Listen to him, Granthus! The mountain boy has spunk!" He frowns. "I hate spunk. Now, listen to me, child--I am probably the only person buying objects of this nature in New Holyhall at the moment. I am the representive of the Merchant...

The Rogue's Gallery. And I'm recruiting for both teams. The Townie Team Makeup--Weel, Cleric of Thraunos. Alan Hale, Rogue. Caradoc Nuttall, Bard. Graeval, Nibelung Sorcerer. An as yet unnamed Khuldeshian Janissary. The Woods Team Makeup--Devon Farmer, Druid (Presently NPC). Heamor...