Reply to thread

Message

<blockquote data-quote="Morwyld" data-source="post: 856925" data-attributes="member: 5997">Many things, happening in many places.In the Pink Heron, Kintys is looking over the items found in a quick search of the two assassins.Having found the things listed previously, she can deduce the obvious nature of the wand.&nbsp; Knowing things like charge level, and exact degree of power, will take an identify spell.The glove contains conjuration magic primarily.&nbsp; She can easily enough figure out what it is, gloves of storing are well known items in adventuring circles.The three men outside don't appear to have anything magical on them.&nbsp; From appearances, they are little more then hireswords, and not very successful ones, at that.The farmers, under the innkeeper's bustling supervision, are already dragging them over to the stable, at least till morning.&nbsp; The farmers have unceremoniously equipped themselves with the shortswords and crossbows the men were carrying.&nbsp; On the trail of the man who escaped the fireball, Smiles and Gwyn are finding it difficult to simultaneously track, follow with speed, and maintain the facade of two badly injured men.Nonetheless, they make some progress, finding that the man made his way east, to a copse of trees maybe a hundred yards from the inn.As they approach the copse, a voice says, &quot;Well, you really screwed the pooch, didn't ya. &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; Whoever is speaking is good at both hiding, and moving quietly, because aside from the voice, there is no sign of the speaker.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Morwyld, post: 856925, member: 5997"] Many things, happening in many places. In the Pink Heron, Kintys is looking over the items found in a quick search of the two assassins. Having found the things listed previously, she can deduce the obvious nature of the wand. Knowing things like charge level, and exact degree of power, will take an identify spell. The glove contains conjuration magic primarily. She can easily enough figure out what it is, gloves of storing are well known items in adventuring circles. The three men outside don't appear to have anything magical on them. From appearances, they are little more then hireswords, and not very successful ones, at that. The farmers, under the innkeeper's bustling supervision, are already dragging them over to the stable, at least till morning. The farmers have unceremoniously equipped themselves with the shortswords and crossbows the men were carrying. On the trail of the man who escaped the fireball, Smiles and Gwyn are finding it difficult to simultaneously track, follow with speed, and maintain the facade of two badly injured men. Nonetheless, they make some progress, finding that the man made his way east, to a copse of trees maybe a hundred yards from the inn. As they approach the copse, a voice says, "Well, you really screwed the pooch, didn't ya. " Whoever is speaking is good at both hiding, and moving quietly, because aside from the voice, there is no sign of the speaker. [/QUOTE]

Verification