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D&D 5E [IC] Creamsteak's Princes of Elemental Evil

Tolan grunts as the two draw near, he speaks to the group.

"Ah, yes. That one is Dent, a knight of some kind. A sour one to be sure, but no bandit."

Then he faces the two new arrivals.

"Just a run in with some restless locals. We are working a guild contract."

He flashes his silver mark.

"I believe I know you, sir. Dent, yes?"
 

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The tense set to Dent's shoulders eased marginally. "You're Tolan." He ignored the she-elf in hides; women were beneath recognition.

Dent moved to come closer to the group, then stopped when the dustdevil impeded his path. He eyed the maelstrom with mistrust, then cast a look 'round the group. Wary eyes lit on Damien. Dent looked the human up and down, then nodded once. "Lieutenant Marcus Dent of Mirabar. At your service."

He offered a small incline of his head, then jerked a thumb at his companion. "My colleague." Dent didn't offer Carradoc's name.
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Thaliss lets the whirlwind subside slowly, and emerges with his right hand raised in a friendly salutation. "Lieutenant, well met. I am Thaliss of house Eviastarim. Apologies for the maelstrom, but I was injured in our recent altercation and did not know your intentions." Looking at his own silver pendant for emphasis, he adds, "I can see that we are brothers in arms. Tell me, what brings you to these parts, and would you by any chance know anything regarding our attacker?" He then points to the mangled corpses of the riders.

OOC: If no healing is offered and assuming that we can do a short rest, Thaliss will use his hit dice to heal.
[roll0]
[roll1]
 

Carradoc nods at Tolan in acknowledgement, and turns to Thaliss. "Carradoc," he says, stepping closer, his hands still out as if in innocence. He tilts his shoulder towards Thaliss, pointing his Guild badge at them.

"The guild's been posting for a caravan. Good pay. Thought we'd get it." He doesn't need to wait for reactions to work it out.

"You too, eh?"
 


OOC: Carradoc recognizes the uniforms of the initiates as having matched the description of the Feathergale Society, which resides in the Feathergale Spire, IE: That tower the party passed a few days ago.
 

Dent glowered at the spot where the whirlwind dissipated. Dark eyes flicked to Thaliss and took his measure, lingering on the half-elf's wound. Dent shifted his weight. His fingers curled around the grip of his blade; for a moment it wasn't clear whether Dent would heal Thaliss or press his advantage over a wounded foe.

Carradoc's assessment of the twin groups' mutual goal shook Dent out of whatever dark path he was about to tread. He sheathed his blade and closed the distance between himself and Thaliss. "Stay still." Dent frowned at the half-elf, daring him to move. Calloused fingers nimbly prodded Thaliss's injury. Dent chanted softly to himself while he worked. Amber light channeled his fingers into Thaliss's hurt spots. "Rogamus, Deus, tuam maiestatem: auribus sacris gemitus exaudi: crimina nostra placidus indulge." The healing was nearly as intensely painful as the injury's receipt; it burned, a hot poker thrust into tender meat. Dent smiled. The pain was pleasing.
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OOC: Lay on Hands for 5 hit points to Thaliss. I can't quite tell how injured Thaliss is, but that's ok; Dent wouldn't know, either.
 

Carradoc nods his chin at Aridha's proposal. He knows they have discovered nothing of substance so far. Some real evidence might help them. Along. He checks with Dent and raises his answer in question. Assuming he gets a nod or something, Carradoc agrees, using the Guild's formal contract:

"Agreed. Equal shares, as declared before witnesses." Might as well make this legal. Once he gets some sort of confirmation from the others he relaxes his hands, as the Lieutenant sets to work mending bones. Carradoc sees Dent smile, and thinks how nice it is that he gets such fulfillment from helping others.

He looks down at the remains of the battle. "Want to tell us what's happened here? These are Feathergales... members of the Feathergale Society. They've got a tower a few days from here. Rich kids looking for fun, generally. I don't think they'd normally be so, um, provocational?" Before joining the Guild, it was would-be members of the Feathergales that Carradoc would want to hit. they were easy marks. He does not share this information at this time.
 

Dent stood up and wiped his left hand free of Thaliss's blood. The fresh red smears on his soldier's breeches mingled with smudges of dirt and grime acquired from overland travel. Dent wasn't clean, but he didn't seem to mind. He resumed his silent assessment of the new group, lingering on each one's arms and armor.

Carradoc's invocation of the official Guild oath caused Dent's eyes to slowly swivel away from their contemplation of Damien and turn to Carradoc. Dent shrugged once, then nodded his acquiescence with a grunt. The transmuter's willingness to go from half shares to a sixth of a share was surprising, but, then again, they'd have nothing to share if no information was recovered.
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Into the Woods

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