The Game of Kings
- Thread starter Ringmereth
- Start date
stonegod
Spawn of Khyber/LEB Judge
The halfling shrugs at the bowman's 'concerns' about 'the law,' and holds back a smirk as Doral 'took control' of the situation. My words from another's mouth always seem to be better received. Good thing that is the way I like it.
As they leave the building, the halfling takes to the center of the group, right in front of one of the warriors. He had plans in case they were all discovered. The rest of the group would not like it, but survival was survival.
As they leave the building, the halfling takes to the center of the group, right in front of one of the warriors. He had plans in case they were all discovered. The rest of the group would not like it, but survival was survival.
"Bu.. er... meh," Morika finally manages to get out, and tromps upstairs and down again swiftly, this time hauling along her backpack and a particularly grumpy expression. "Where e're we en' up, goin' seep one we ge' ter..." she says to the others in a sentence that's almost comprehensible. Hand closed on iron candelabra she had used to knock the bugbear unconscious (she apparently forgot the drop it), she tromps out with the others, bloodshot eyes firmly convinced she's in some kind of nightmare.
Dark_Jackalope
First Post
Argotch Inn and Back Streets, Port Verge (nighttime) – everyone
[sblock="Doral:"]As the others discussed the situation, Doral crouched on the bloodied floor and quickly searched over the man, who until a moment ago had been sleeping peacefully. Besides the breastplate and the masterworked trident he had been wielding, he also had a light crossbow strapped to his back. Further examination yielded only ten bolts for his crossbow, an assortment of coins worth 67 gold, and a simple necklace, just a shark’s tooth on a black cord.[/sblock]
The group somewhat tiredly lifted themselves from the dirtied room and followed Dragen’s exit towards the back. They passed through the door behind the goblin’s front desk and through a narrow wooden hall with cramped storage rooms branching off of it. As they walked, they filed into a narrow line, Carver’s sturdy silhouette with the bugbear over his shoulder leading the way. In his shadow walked the out of place looking ‘halfing’, accompanied by the uneasy looking young wizard and her caged hawk. After them, the kind archivist was assisting Morika move along despite her powerful headache, and Doral took up the rear to keep watch.
They spilled quietly into the service alley, where a wretched looking stay dog growled in surprise but mercifully did not bark. They marched along in near silence, their feet somberly lightly splashing the puddles underfoot. In the alley, the rain seemed to run and drip off buildings more than fall form the skies, creating a constant chatter of running, dripping, and slashing water.
Carver peered around the corner before venturing into the cross street, one of those which ran parallel to the waterfront. There seemed to still be more people gathering at the inn’s front, though at this point it only seemed to be curious and worried neighbors and patrons of the pub. Deciding that none of the observers were paying any attention to the cross street and the service alley, Carver led the group across and over slightly into another alley, trying to be inconspicuous despite having a battered and unconscious bugbear over his shoulder.
Dragen, who had found a place to observe the group from within the service alley, watched them file across the street and head for another alleyway, and then moved to follow unnoticed from a distance.
The various spells that had been working on the travelers faded one by one as they walked through Port Verge. The cool rain felt good on their sore bodies, however, serving to sooth the burn of wounds and tired muscles. Carver led them with a comforting precision, and in this way, the procession made its way north through alleys and small back streets, trying to quickly and casually cross those streets upon which other people walked. Though there weren’t many people out on this cold and wet northern night, they still encountered the occasional partially drunk sailor or hurried townsfolk. It didn’t seem as if the local law enforcement had caught up with them yet, however the sight of the warforged carrying a bugbear over his shoulder was still a suspicious one. They also didn’t dare slow down, lest the Prince’s men be on their heels, and discover where they were planning to hide.
After a while, as they approached the wealthier districts higher on the hillside, they came to a broad and brightly lit boulevard which stood between them and the district in which Carver’s shop stood. The line of travelers stopped at the corner of the narrow side street they had been walking along, hesitantly looking out across the brightly glistening wet pavement.
A little way up the street, there was a crowd of people, finely dressed and mingling about under the awning in front of an upscale looking theater. It appeared to be a group of nobles and other prominent members of society leaving after tonight’s performance. As if to confirm this theory, a two-horse carriage came trotting past the group’s side street at a smart pace and stopped beside the crowd, allowing one of the couples to get in.
As they watched, the traffic of carriages began picking up, and a team of law enforcement officials appeared to direct traffic, and keep an eye on this valuable crowd and protect them from pickpockets. Judging by the somewhat large quantity of officials, unless the Prince usually keeps high security around the theatrical performances, they might well also have been sent to watch for the ‘spies’ said to be at large.
The end of the performance seemingly could not have come at a worse time, and time seemed to be running out before they were noticed and finding shelter in this area became impossible.
[sblock="Doral:"]As the others discussed the situation, Doral crouched on the bloodied floor and quickly searched over the man, who until a moment ago had been sleeping peacefully. Besides the breastplate and the masterworked trident he had been wielding, he also had a light crossbow strapped to his back. Further examination yielded only ten bolts for his crossbow, an assortment of coins worth 67 gold, and a simple necklace, just a shark’s tooth on a black cord.[/sblock]
The group somewhat tiredly lifted themselves from the dirtied room and followed Dragen’s exit towards the back. They passed through the door behind the goblin’s front desk and through a narrow wooden hall with cramped storage rooms branching off of it. As they walked, they filed into a narrow line, Carver’s sturdy silhouette with the bugbear over his shoulder leading the way. In his shadow walked the out of place looking ‘halfing’, accompanied by the uneasy looking young wizard and her caged hawk. After them, the kind archivist was assisting Morika move along despite her powerful headache, and Doral took up the rear to keep watch.
They spilled quietly into the service alley, where a wretched looking stay dog growled in surprise but mercifully did not bark. They marched along in near silence, their feet somberly lightly splashing the puddles underfoot. In the alley, the rain seemed to run and drip off buildings more than fall form the skies, creating a constant chatter of running, dripping, and slashing water.
Carver peered around the corner before venturing into the cross street, one of those which ran parallel to the waterfront. There seemed to still be more people gathering at the inn’s front, though at this point it only seemed to be curious and worried neighbors and patrons of the pub. Deciding that none of the observers were paying any attention to the cross street and the service alley, Carver led the group across and over slightly into another alley, trying to be inconspicuous despite having a battered and unconscious bugbear over his shoulder.
Dragen, who had found a place to observe the group from within the service alley, watched them file across the street and head for another alleyway, and then moved to follow unnoticed from a distance.
The various spells that had been working on the travelers faded one by one as they walked through Port Verge. The cool rain felt good on their sore bodies, however, serving to sooth the burn of wounds and tired muscles. Carver led them with a comforting precision, and in this way, the procession made its way north through alleys and small back streets, trying to quickly and casually cross those streets upon which other people walked. Though there weren’t many people out on this cold and wet northern night, they still encountered the occasional partially drunk sailor or hurried townsfolk. It didn’t seem as if the local law enforcement had caught up with them yet, however the sight of the warforged carrying a bugbear over his shoulder was still a suspicious one. They also didn’t dare slow down, lest the Prince’s men be on their heels, and discover where they were planning to hide.
After a while, as they approached the wealthier districts higher on the hillside, they came to a broad and brightly lit boulevard which stood between them and the district in which Carver’s shop stood. The line of travelers stopped at the corner of the narrow side street they had been walking along, hesitantly looking out across the brightly glistening wet pavement.
A little way up the street, there was a crowd of people, finely dressed and mingling about under the awning in front of an upscale looking theater. It appeared to be a group of nobles and other prominent members of society leaving after tonight’s performance. As if to confirm this theory, a two-horse carriage came trotting past the group’s side street at a smart pace and stopped beside the crowd, allowing one of the couples to get in.
As they watched, the traffic of carriages began picking up, and a team of law enforcement officials appeared to direct traffic, and keep an eye on this valuable crowd and protect them from pickpockets. Judging by the somewhat large quantity of officials, unless the Prince usually keeps high security around the theatrical performances, they might well also have been sent to watch for the ‘spies’ said to be at large.
The end of the performance seemingly could not have come at a worse time, and time seemed to be running out before they were noticed and finding shelter in this area became impossible.
MadMaxim
First Post
Argotch Inn and Back Streets, Port Verge (nighttime) – everyone
Partash slowly lets go of Morika and silently approaches Doral. "What should we do now, Doral?" He whispers. "Most of my prayers won't do us any good right now, so I was hoping that you might have something up your sleeve for this kind of situation? We need to either disguise ourselves like our little 'halfling' here or distract the city guards somehow."
Partash slowly lets go of Morika and silently approaches Doral. "What should we do now, Doral?" He whispers. "Most of my prayers won't do us any good right now, so I was hoping that you might have something up your sleeve for this kind of situation? We need to either disguise ourselves like our little 'halfling' here or distract the city guards somehow."
stonegod
Spawn of Khyber/LEB Judge
In the shadow, the 'halfling' keeps an eye on the distant crowd attempting to judge distance. He let the others try to reason out a way, but his mind was quickly at work. He mentions casually, "Does the fog usually come in at this time of night?" with a pointed glance at Glasia.
OOC: Few things. First, Did Vhir's detect magic find anything on the corpses/bugbear? Second, since disguise self is 10 min per level, should has its 40min passed? Finally, how far away is the awning with the aristoracts. It is within 30'? If not, how far?
OOC: Few things. First, Did Vhir's detect magic find anything on the corpses/bugbear? Second, since disguise self is 10 min per level, should has its 40min passed? Finally, how far away is the awning with the aristoracts. It is within 30'? If not, how far?
Deuce Traveler
Adventurer
Doral pockets the 67 gold pieces worth of coins, and the simple necklace after his companion casts detect magic on it and some of the other items. He'll share the goods later.
Later, the beguiler pulls up behind the group as the party considers how to get around the crowd below.
"Does the fog usually come in at this time of night?" Vhir asked.
"It does now," Doral answered, and cast obscuring mist at the close edge of the crowd. Once the spell was finished he turned towards Carver and asked, "My friend, can you get us around another way or is our situation so desperate that we must hide in the nearest alley?" The half-joke, makes Doral ponder his choices, and he looks for any sign of a local sewer access.
Later, the beguiler pulls up behind the group as the party considers how to get around the crowd below.
"Does the fog usually come in at this time of night?" Vhir asked.
"It does now," Doral answered, and cast obscuring mist at the close edge of the crowd. Once the spell was finished he turned towards Carver and asked, "My friend, can you get us around another way or is our situation so desperate that we must hide in the nearest alley?" The half-joke, makes Doral ponder his choices, and he looks for any sign of a local sewer access.
"Hide 'forged... bugbear... don't carry... stand him up... make him look drunk. We can stagger 'cross stree', I'm no goo' fer mush else. Jus buncha drunks goin' home..." Morika manages to get out, remembering, at least a little, that most don't look at drunkards as a matter of course.