The Mourning After (Horror) (IC)
Neurotic
I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
"I don't think we have that luxury. We need to talk to the people and find shelter in safe enough environment. And we need allies for that. Even bought ones. Let's see what we can get from this situation."
Malix speaks quietly to the group huddled around food.
"Let's follow Ozzar and see what we can get to end this and deliver our...erm...piece...to the destination."
Malix speaks quietly to the group huddled around food.
"Let's follow Ozzar and see what we can get to end this and deliver our...erm...piece...to the destination."
FitzTheRuke
Legend
"I can assist in any way you need," said Lazharis with little conviction, "But I'm afraid that now that I have sat down, the enui has set in. I am beginning to forget our goals. What do you hope to achieve?"
Leatherhead
Possibly a Idiot.
4th of Zarantyr, 998 YK. Afteroon.
Room 203, The Vice House, Southshore, Metrol, Cyre.
The warm stew and relatively relaxing nature of a friendly bar allowed you to unwind after a long morning. Shortly after your meal, you head up the stairs.
The interior of the room seems rather, mundane, for all the trouble it took to get there. There is a bed, a boarded window, a table, and a changeling sitting at the table, with both hands folded and resting atop of it. A small blue gem sits openly on the table, faintly glowing.
“Callia, I presume?” Vesile asks.
The changeling nods. And responds with a question in kind. “As you know, it is typically prohibited to contact another cell, what brings you here?”
Room 203, The Vice House, Southshore, Metrol, Cyre.
The warm stew and relatively relaxing nature of a friendly bar allowed you to unwind after a long morning. Shortly after your meal, you head up the stairs.
The interior of the room seems rather, mundane, for all the trouble it took to get there. There is a bed, a boarded window, a table, and a changeling sitting at the table, with both hands folded and resting atop of it. A small blue gem sits openly on the table, faintly glowing.
“Callia, I presume?” Vesile asks.
The changeling nods. And responds with a question in kind. “As you know, it is typically prohibited to contact another cell, what brings you here?”
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Ozzar looks over his companions, tired as they all are. His stamina seems to be holding for now. The food helped and he cannot, but wonder if the plant inside him gives him some extra strenght.
"Typically isn't always. Trust me that news like us like to spread. And you might want to control where it spreads to and to whom. There would be the price of course. Or you can send us out and be done with us. Do you want to hear the story?"
Ozzar steps forward and looks around
"Nice precaution there." he motions toward the door.
"And shiny gem! The dwarves would pay much for such if it was natural and not magic."
He sits across the changeling (OOC: on the bed if there is no chair) looking at her seriously.
"We just escaped from the prison and braved the mists to get here. You can probably verify the prison break. If you give us room to sleep while you check, we'll be good little guests. We can talk once you check our bonafides. But since you know her, maybe we can skip that dance, eh?"
Perception; Arcana: 1d20+3 = [12]+3 = 15; 1d20 = [11] = 11
Leatherhead
Possibly a Idiot.
“We have news that will blow open this whole situation.” Vesile speaks abruptly. “It is vital to the effort, the most vital thing to the effort.”
“Of course it’s important, I wouldn’t imagine you breaking protocol for anything less.” Callia cooly remarks. “But surely, the dangers were told to you?”
“The rest of our cell was captured for this information, and probably worse than dead!” Vesile bursts out, then stiffens her posture and presence to correct the presence. “We need to see a higher up.”
Callia looks at the stone softly glowing on the table. “I’m not entirely convinced. You may believe what you are saying, but you know as well as I, that those beliefs can be manipulated. Just remember what they did to Grup.” The woman takes a pill out from the desk drawer. “Poison, harmonically tied to a remote key. It won't activate unless the key is. As a show of good faith, who is willing to take one to proceed?”
“Of course it’s important, I wouldn’t imagine you breaking protocol for anything less.” Callia cooly remarks. “But surely, the dangers were told to you?”
“The rest of our cell was captured for this information, and probably worse than dead!” Vesile bursts out, then stiffens her posture and presence to correct the presence. “We need to see a higher up.”
Callia looks at the stone softly glowing on the table. “I’m not entirely convinced. You may believe what you are saying, but you know as well as I, that those beliefs can be manipulated. Just remember what they did to Grup.” The woman takes a pill out from the desk drawer. “Poison, harmonically tied to a remote key. It won't activate unless the key is. As a show of good faith, who is willing to take one to proceed?”
FitzTheRuke
Legend
Lazharis was more than willing to take the poison. Not only was he committed to the cause, but he wondered if he would feel anything before the end came, should the poison take effect. The risk was worth the reward, he figured.
"This is pointless. Whatever information they have is important. And paranoia is fine, but needs to be balanced by the need of speed. Give us safe space to rest, you surely can monitor us or guard us there. And while we rest, check what you need." Ozzar rolls his eyes "Here I though Sharn criminals were distrustful. I understand you live dangerously, you have the rest of the night to check our claims or track our movements. Maybe then we can talk productively, hmm? Time is of essence."
