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Knowing that Andoran is expecting this Arrgha'n approaches and extends his hand. Whether he accepts the shake or not, he leans in and whispers "
The time will come when I will have to kill you. Nothing personal, but part of it is orders and the other part it is self preservation. I do, however look forward to working with and for you. This reminds me somewhat of my time with the Project. Thank you for this opportunity.
"
Following his response (assuming I do not respond) I nod good bye and make my way out into the city for some info-gathering and then back to my room for the night.
[OOC:
Isida Kep'Tukari... said:
wanton slaughtering, eating of wantons, or anything else?
I will spend some time info-gathering about: what is currently happening in the Demon Wastes (current dangers and activity) and on the way to it; current enemies or competitors to Andoran and his current works (in case they wish to thwart us); Andoran, his people and motives; aberrant activity in the area. I look for info in this order of preference. If I can't get all the info that is fine. I will want to have enough sleep to not be affected by its lack. Being a little tired is OK.]
Kurst continues to mope in silence, though when Yartrax reveals herself, he spares the woman a nervous glance before quickly looking away.
He even scowls a bit when she seems to follow Oliver to his room...
As the others start to leave, Kurst does the same, mumbling "I'll be in my room then.."
Once alone, the young man pulls out some materials and beings to write a scroll that should be of some help...
OOC: Kurst will be doing his best to hide in his room. Provided we have enough time, I'm going to try and make a scroll of endure elements. UMD check for scrolls is +15.
Valerian will linger in the room until everyone has left, then cast Detect Magic and inspect the wall that Andoran made his entrance and exit through. Assuming he doesn't find any signs of magic there, he'll sweep the room with Detect Magic quickly, grab a meal's worth of food and wine, then head up to his room.
Once he reaches the room, he closes the window shutters tightly and locks the door. He spends the night researching his notes and inspecting the drawing of the golem Andoran gave him in minute detail, which he adds to his collection of notes, intending to cast Amanuensis to copy it as soon as possible (probably tomorrow).
Maavnod nods at the conclusion of the conversation. He'll accompany these strange people even into the Wastes, but he does not speak openly about why or what he wants out of the bargain. It will be up to this Andoran to meet his expectations at that time. For the night he stays in his room though it is uncomfortable and awkward for his large frame. He much prefers the outdoors but would not want to start a new working relationship by offending his host.
The kobold just leaves without any additional pleasantries at the end of the discussion. It does not stay in its room, instead leaving town to find a solitary place to sleep, preferably elevated. The Progenitors would ensure Irthos is where it is needed in the morning.
Soft they are, and soft they shall be in beds between wood.
Oliver locks and shutters his window, and then his door. When Vatrax knocks, he hesitantly cracks the door, then ushers her in. "I knew you'd show up sooner or later. Nice pajamas," he says with a wink and grin. He sits on the bed, taking off his sword and laying it beside his bed. His shield already lay discarded, leaning against the chest. He removes his boots, and the dagger within, placing the blade within easy reach.
"So, Oliver, who was talking so gallently down there? Was it truly you? Or is someone else talking?"
"That," he says with the same half smile he portrayed downstairs, "is for me to know and you to find out." He scoots further back on the bed and leans against the wall. He gestures for her to have a seat next to him. "Now what of you? You and Andoran old friends...Or lovers? Did he save your life...Or do you owe him something more than a life?"
Once she has answered his beginning questions, he poses a few other questions. "You traveled far further than I have. Tell me what to expect on this journey. Barbarians in the wastes, and demons as well? How do they fight and what could they do to me?"
Knowing that Andoran is expecting this Arrgha'n approaches and extends his hand. Whether he accepts the shake or not, he leans in and whispers "
The time will come when I will have to kill you. Nothing personal, but part of it is orders and the other part it is self preservation. I do, however look forward to working with and for you. This reminds me somewhat of my time with the Project. Thank you for this opportunity.
"
Following his response (assuming I do not respond) I nod good bye and make my way out into the city for some info-gathering and then back to my room for the night.
Andoran's raised eyebrow disappears into his hairline at Arrgha'n's comment, but accepts the handshake anyway.
"Somehow, that seems entirely expected," is all he says in return.
[OOC: Tempting. Very Tempting.
I will spend some time info-gathering about: what is currently happening in the Demon Wastes (current dangers and activity) and on the way to it; current enemies or competitors to Andoran and his current works (in case they wish to thwart us); Andoran, his people and motives; aberrant activity in the area. I look for info in this order of preference. If I can't get all the info that is fine. I will want to have enough sleep to not be affected by its lack. Being a little tired is OK.]
OOC: Dude, seriously, those wantons are good, I don't blame you for being tempted. Anyways, in asking around for information about the Demon Wastes, you find the people of New Cyre are more or less ignorant of such things. Of Andoran, you learn that no one knows of that particular name, but when you describe him, an off-duty guard (whom you had to get fairly drunk) comments he saw a fellow of that general look going into and out of the Prince's home a few times. Not surprisingly, after that auspicious start, you can't find anything about his "staff" or motives. But, as for aberrant activity, [sblock]you do hear one interesting rumor. There have been a series of maulings and thievings in the past several months in several of the small villages and hamlets around New Cyre, starting from the northeast and going towards the southwest. The mauled victim is always robbed, almost always in a locked house, and is usually someone with a fair amount of money. The string of crimes skipped over New Cyre, which makes your informant, a merchant of spices, think that whoever's behind this knew New Cyre had too many soldiers and inquisitives to make it worth his time. You, on the other hand, remember hearing about these "locked room" mysteries before. Sometimes it was a shapeshifting creature, sometimes just a clever thief, sometimes a magician, and sometimes it was a creature that could pop in and out of the Ethereal Plane as easily as you would walk into a room. An ethereal filcher or maurader perhaps. Or both. The string of crimes is moving away from New Cyre, but in the general direction of the Orien trade road, the road you'll be following in the morning...[/sblock]
Kurst can spend the evening carefully scribing himself a new scroll, knowing protection from extremes of temperature will be very useful in his upcoming trials.
Valerian finds there is indeed magic on the wall, and of the illusion type as well. However, poking his hand at the wall he feels only a rough wall, not the emptiness he had been expecting. Lips pursed, he considers that perhaps this is a different type of illusion. Shadow illusion perhaps? It may very well be, which might give it substance except for those with certain talismans or those that were designated by the caster.
At any rate, he can gather the fine food and drink and retire to a quite night of note-taking in his room.
Maavnod passes a mildly uncomfortable evening in the small bed, but at least it is quiet within the inn. Once the door is shut, he can't even hear the conversation in the common room.
Irthos leaves, departing from the inn and soon the town altogether. A quick survey of the land finds him a tree on a small rise, a place he can sleep that still gives him a good view of his surroundings. The night passes fairly quietly, though he awakes with his scales slicked with dew.
EvolutionKB said:
Oliver locks and shutters his window, and then his door. When Vatrax knocks, he hesitantly cracks the door, then ushers her in. "I knew you'd show up sooner or later. Nice pajamas," he says with a wink and grin. He sits on the bed, taking off his sword and laying it beside his bed. His shield already lay discarded, leaning against the chest. He removes his boots, and the dagger within, placing the blade within easy reach.
"They're not pajamas darling. Some of us just don't feel the need to truss ourselves up in armor," she says with a small smile, stepping into the room and closing the door.
""So, Oliver, who was talking so gallently down there? Was it truly you? Or is someone else talking?"
"That," he says with the same half smile he portrayed downstairs, "is for me to know and you to find out." He scoots further back on the bed and leans against the wall. He gestures for her to have a seat next to him. "Now what of you? You and Andoran old friends...Or lovers? Did he save your life...Or do you owe him something more than a life?"
Yatrax doesn't take a seat quite yet, but leans agains the wall next to the bed. "No, not lovers. He's not old enough to be my father, but certainly an older brother, and that would feel terribly awkward. No, he is my employer, after a fashion, as he now is yours. He found me, doing what I do best, and offered me an opportunity I could not refuse. This surely will be dangerous, but the rewards..." she trails off, raising an eyebrow.
Once she has answered his beginning questions, he poses a few other questions. "You traveled far further than I have. Tell me what to expect on this journey. Barbarians in the wastes, and demons as well? How do they fight and what could they do to me?"
"You think you know where I'm from?" she gives a small silvery laugh. "But yes, the barbarians. They know this Labyrinth like the backs of their hands. They know every spot of ambush, every deadfall and pit, every trap and fall corridor, every roaming monster and where their territory is. When they have let the Labyrinth itself soften us up, they will attack without mercy. The demons can attack cleverly or vicioiusly, depending on what kind they are. Most are brutes, but some are intelligent. Most have tough hides, are resistant to magic, and are terribly cruel. All what you would expect from a demon," she tells him, brushing her hair back from her face. In the shadows of the lantern, her own shadow is a breath behind her own motions.
"No my dear," Oliver says leaning forward once more, "I merely know you have traveled to the Wastes, that is further than I have traveled in my lifetime."
"Oh and I don't need my armor," he says standing and removing the fine links of his mithral shirt.
"No my dear," Oliver says leaning forward once more, "I merely know you have traveled to the Wastes, that is further than I have traveled in my lifetime."
"Oh and I don't need my armor," he says standing and removing the fine links of his mithral shirt.
Yatrax leans forward to meet him, her eyes dark in the dim light, and grabs his collar, pulling him close to seal their lips together for a long moment. Pulling apart to breathe, she makes a simple gesture, and something blacker and deeper than darkness pulls free of the shadows and fills the vial. Then the light goes out.
The vial glows a dull red in the darkness, and Yatrax dips her fingers in it, tracing on both of your faces, so strange patterns mark your places in the blackness.
"Show me," she whispers...
And we'll fade to black, literally and figuratively.
In the morning, the Cloak and Dagger has light sweet and savory little cakes with various sauces and jams, along with ale and cider for those interested.
By mid-morning, ten sturdy little donkeys are arrayed in the stableyard of the inn, along with a note from Andoran.
There is a House Orien carvan leaving at eleven in the morning. The first part of your path lies with them, and the caravan master has all of your provisioning needs, along with the alchemical aid I promised. The note, not surprisingly, is signed with a gray crown.
OOC: EvolutionKB, we're on a slightly different timeline than the others for right now, so if you want to roleplay waking up, we can do that without holding up the others. For everyone else, if you need to grab any other supplies or inform your collegues of anything, now'd be the time. And can I get a general marching order? The roads would allow for at least two or three abreast riding either way, or one wagon each direction, because you're on an Orien trade road. Once I have that, we'll be off!
Arrgha'n wakes up from a night of talking and info-gathering basically rested and very much looking forward to the mission at hand. The route ahead may reveal minions of Xoriat that need to be disposed of. Arrgha'n smiles to himself at the thought of this and relishes in the thought of a hunt.
The Half-Daelkyr stretches, gets, his equipment ready to go, and then makes his way down stairs to meet the rest of his new found companions for their first foray together under the banner of their new mutual benefactor, the "Gray King".
He walks downstairs to greet the rest and once everyone has arrived he says "Last night I did a little wandering around New Cyre to... hear what I could hear. The only thing I was able to find out about our benefactor is that a man of that description has been seen entering and leaving the Prince's home.
And more importantly there seems to be a string of robbery/maulings that have happened over the last week or so that whose pattern leads up to New Cyre from the North East and then skips it, then continues South West along the Orien trade route that we are about to embark on. These have happened in buildings that have been secured and there should have been no real way in.
My thoughts are that this string or crimes could be related to creatures such as.... they are sometimes called 'Ethereal Filchers' or possibly 'Ethereal Marauders' or the like. We will want to be wary of ourselves and anything strange happening. I would like the opportunity to try to hunt these thing(s) down for a few days if we encounter them seeming as we are not under a tight schedule.
This will also give us a chance to see how we will all work together - our abilities and how best to complement each other's arts so as to make the journey to the Demon Wastes a little safer and more productive for everyone."
[OOC: I will ride to the front of the caravan keeping my eyes and ears open trying to always be within charging distance of the nearest party member.
If the crimes have a pattern that I can kind of predict or have a good idea where the next one might be happening I will try to take some time to do some In-gathering there to see if I can find their activity. ]
