Council of Thieves: Liberators of Westcrown (Inactive)

Game Master JDPhipps

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Male Human Brawler 8/Bard (Archeologist) 2/Slayer 5
House Rules:

"Hello there, lover." Came a voice from behind you, seemingly from the shadows. You turned as the velvety voice struck your ears, spinning to find the source of the sound. A young human woman stands before you, her leathers doing little to hide her curves. She flips her crimson locks with one hand, the other resting on the pommel of a blade. "You may not know me. Oh, but lover, trust me... I know you. And I know you're none too happy with the state of Westcrown today. Bandits, devils, beasts that lurk in the shadows... no, not happy about it at all. We... I've been watching you, and I think we can help each other. What do you say?" Not waiting for a response, she flicks a card into your hands with a simple message scrawled on it in elegant, loopy Common. As you scramble to grab it, she sashays away through the crowd, gone before you manage to look up from your reading.

"Meet me at Vizio's Tavern, this afternoon at 4, for an early supper. Don't be late now, lover. I'll be waiting for you."

Vizio's tavern, as far as you can tell, is an unassuming family business within the Parego Spera, in southwestern Westcrown. Once a family-owned establishment, it seems the original owner passed away, with his family having sold the tavern and moved to distant Corentyn to be closer to family. According to locals, the tavern was purchased soon after by two business partners, and elven male and a human woman, although it seems they've taken their time getting the place set up.

The interior of the tavern, while nicely built, has seen better days. From the inside, most of the windows are clouded with dirt, the bars holding the colored glass in place rusted. As you enter, the door creaks audibly, cobwebs torn from the wall as the door screeches open. Within, the tavern is empty, with no trace of the woman who beckoned you here. Tufts of dust lie on unwashed floors, and all but one table is smothered by a thick layer of dust.

Seated around the table are seven chairs, each cleaned and polished, all empty. Sitting in the center of the table, a small placard stands alongside a small vase of flowers, written in the same loopy script as the note. As you move closer, you make out the message; "Reserved."


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

The tall, slim man was somewhat surprised to hear the woman address him.

She slipped out of the shadows like a cat, lithe and alluring.

Good evening, my lady. he said in reply, hands folded neatly over the buttons of his grey, charcoal suit.

When she flicks the card to him, he open one hand in a slight movement and clicks his fingers, catching the card in a mid-air vortex of arcane energy and slowly turns it to face him. (Mage Hand) He can see the simple trick draws a smile from the leather-clad woman but he is uninterested in flirtation - only information. Her comeliness was an obvious and deliberate attempt to allure him, a tactic not likely employed by the Hellknights and besides, he had done nothing illegal, simply asked some questions. The Council, as his erstwhile mentor would have described them, may well not be above such... distractions.

He read the card quickly and memorised it's content immediately before flicking his fingers again and watching as it twisted in little curls of flame only to fall to the ground as ash a moment later. (Spark)

Abraham closed his eyes. The card was now framed and mounted, on a small silver stand propped on the ornately engraved fireplace in the south-facing sitting room. There, the sun would sweep around the Palace and illuminate it, whenever he should have the need to view it once again. He doubted he would need to consult the card, every letter and every detail of the sweeping hand that scribed it was already committed to memory.

Baranabous Snipe, the foremost Investigator in Diabolic Affairs in the Chelaxian capital of Egorian, now late of Westcrown, had first introduced Abraham to the notion of a Memory Home. It was a simple mnemonic in principle, he explained, where items or information you might need to recall reside in imaginary format in a context you can remember easily. Snipe’s own home was a two bedroom town-house he had once lived in during his childhood. Abraham had been fascinated with the practice and had soon built his own Home. But unlike his mentor’s the place was purely borne of his imagination, and was a sprawling Palace with grounds that stretched for acres, outbuildings and even a lake.

In truth, Abraham didn’t even know how large he could make it but without fail, his disciplined mind could recall any detail he cared to commit to his Palace with remarkably acuity.

It was a revelation that both astounded and frightened Snipe.

Abraham stretched his long legs and strode over the slick, cobbled streets of the Rego Pena, straight-backed and alert, trying to decide whether to take up the invitation.

Take 10 on Knowledge Local for 19 total. Anything I know about "Vizio's Tavern" before I had over there?


Male Fetchling Paladin 1 | HP 13 | AC17 FF10 T17 | Saves +4/+0/+1 | Init +0 | Percep -1

Hearing the voice behind him, the cloaked and hooded man turns around his tall and muscular build standing out even under his attempt of hiding it. But you can also clearly see by the way he holds himself he's wearing heavy armor under the leather, while the cloak covers up his weapon and the hood most of his face.

He looks up to the woman's face and takes the card in his gloved hand, looking it over before finally speaking. "Hello." Nodding slightly. "You say you know of me and here i am not even knowing your name." He then brings his hand up holding him holy symbol. Detect Evil "I mean you no harm, this wont hurt you. I just wish to know your intentions. You speak of the worst of this city, i've seen parts of it first hand." He draws the hood back from his face now showing his bleached white skin and hair. He then utters a word detecting evil in the woman.


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

Aristaios whirls around, unused to being snuck up on, and even more unused to being addressed that way by a human. He eyes the woman warily.

"Have I been that transparent? I'd hoped after ten years this city'd have forgotten me."

When she offers him the card, he sees her trying to use the opportunity to disappear, a trick he was all too familiar with.

"Say I take you up on this offer, pay your tavern a visit, who do I ask to see?" He calls after her. The lack of a response is answer enough. These were people who didn't want to be found out. He proceeds to Rego Spera to find the tavern, and discreetly enters the establishment. The nearly abandoned place further confirms his suspicions of a secret meeting. But who would trust him with such a secret? He waited for his hostess, and looked with a cautious expression at any newcomers who walked in the door.


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

What happens before arriving at Vizio's:
Chandra descends the broad stone steps from her apartment to the entrance of the old yet dignified building where she lives. It is unusual for an unmarried woman to have her own place, especially one so young as Chandra. But she has established herself as a lead actress at the very best theaters and with that comes the money to be independent of both her family and a husband. Tongues wagged, of course, saying she was entertaining a different man (or woman) in her place every night. But that is just a mark of how much she has achieved in her short life.

Now her mind is swirling with ideas about how to deal with a potential bump in her road to ever greater fame and fortune. She is currently the understudy to the renowned Giacarlotta Sclaratti in an upcoming version of Three Priests and a Harlot. The night before had been her dress rehearsal, where she got to do the whole play in place of Giacarlotta. It had gone very well, with no botched or forgotten lines. The final death scene brought tears to the eyes of many of the extras watching from the wings. So when the director, Lorenzo Sinagra, called her into his office, she expected him to give her some pointers on things to change and maybe compliment her on a job well done. Instead, he let her know in nearly transparent innuendo that she could have the lead and replace Giacarlotta if only Chandra would sleep with him. He did not demand an answer but made it clear he would be expecting her to show up at his house for a late night tryst very soon. He also implied that not to do so might cost her the understudy position as well.

Chandra has no intention of sleeping with him. She knows that is a short-cut to disgrace and disfavor. She doesn't need the lead role at this stage in her career. But she also will not accept any repercussions for refusing to sleep with him. So she is off at first light to visit her mother and various aunts and uncles who can both advise her on what to do next and help with the damage control, if necessary.

Chandra is so focused on her situation that she nearly runs into a woman wearing leather armor waiting just inside the entrance to the building. Chandra gives her a glance, notices that she has red hair and incredible confidence, but is about to shuffle past her. Then the words “Hello there, lover” shoot through her like an arrow. Chandra stops abruptly and wheels to look at the woman again, wondering if this might be someone Chandra had spent the night with some years ago or if she is hopeful she can seduce Chandra into doing so in the near future. Both are possible and the latter happens more often than one might expect in the straight-laced conservatism of upper class Chelaxian society.

The woman is only an inch taller than Chandra. She flips her hair coquettishly and grins. Chandra begins to worry. This is strange. She puts her hands on her hips in preparation for a tongue-lashing to put this insolent woman in her place. The woman says, “You may not know me. Oh, but lover, trust me... I know you. And I know you're none too happy with the state of Westcrown today. Bandits, devils, beasts that lurk in the shadows... no, not happy about it at all. We... I've been watching you, and I think we can help each other. What do you say?"

Chandra’s curiosity muscles indignity aside and keeps her tongue silent. Before she can think of anything to say, the woman has flipped her a card and slipped out the door as a couple of old women are coming in. Chandra has to exchange pleasantries with the women and by the time that is done, the woman in leather is long gone.

Chandra looks at the card and reads, "Meet me at Vizio's Tavern, this afternoon at 4, for an early supper. Don't be late now, lover. I'll be waiting for you."

“Where does she get off calling me lover?” Chandra almost says out loud. “Is she black-mailing me? Like I need another problem right now!” She tucks the card down the front of her low-cut bodice and sets off to begin the damage control regarding the director and her understudy job. But as she walks, her thoughts go back to the words she said just before leaving, “I know you’re none too happy with the state of Westcrown today.” This is certainly true. She has been slipping off incognito and mingling with independent thinkers in coffee houses in rougher parts of town and attending services of a cell of Milani worshipers. She wants a chance to make a difference and deal with some of the horrible injustices being visited upon so many poor people across the city. No one will take her seriously, however. Perhaps that has changed.

By noon, she has spread the word with some of her relatives in the business and feels they will be handling her situation with the director without her needing to do much in the short term. So she goes back to her apartment and looks into her wardrobe and brings out the leather catsuit she has been wearing on her night time excursions. It always makes her feel more powerful to wear it, as if she were dangerous and a force to be reckoned with, not because of her family name, renowned across the stages of Westcrown, but because she is an actor on the stage of the world. She looks at the card again. Four P.M. at Vizio’s Tavern. Something clicks. This is her chance. She has to take it. At worst, it is a set-up by some sycophant to get some attention. She can deal with that.

She eats some lunch and then gets out her armor, weapons, and her disguise kit and sets to work. She cannot afford to be seen by anyone she knows wearing leather armor with a rapier and whip, so she puts on a red wig, darkens her skin a little to make her look somewhat Varisian, adds coral lipstick and some flashy costume jewelry, and puts a little stage putty on her nose to change its shape enough to keep people from recognizing her, she hopes.

Disguise, Disguise Kit, changing minor details only: 1d20 + 4 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 4 + 2 + 5 = 24 This is the DC for a perception check to recognize her as Chandra Florlianus, the actress

She puts on a light cloak with a hood and slips out the back stairwell, mostly used by service staff, and makes her way through various alleys until she is out of the district where she is likely to run into people she knows. She asks around to find her way to the tavern. At first she thinks she has lost her way but then sees the name above the door: Vizio’s Tavern. It looks closed. She puts her hood up and tries the door. It opens. She puts on her stage face and enters.

A statuesque woman in a dark cloak covering a leather catsuit enters the nearly empty tavern. A rapier peeks through the open cloak in front with a coiled whip keeping it company along with a dagger. She begins to lower her hood while standing just inside the door, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. She sees a lone man sitting at a lone table and gradually perceives the horns that mark him as a Tielfing. She hesitates at this, but lowers her hood, revealing a pretty human face framed by red hair, with coral lips and a dusky complexion.

"Vizio’s Tavern? I gots an invitation to meets a woman here. I guess I weren’t the only one.” Her accent marks her as someone from the lower classes, although her equipment suggests she has at least enough money to equip herself in decent style. She strolls in and sits in one of the chairs on the other side of the table from the Tiefling, studying him for a moment before looking around at the dingy place. She gives a slight sneer at general ambiance. Then she makes eye contact with the Tiefling, this time noticing an odd flicker of light as if from inside his eyes. Still she smiles at him and says, "Well met. I'm Chandra."

She holds up the card she got from the woman, curious to see if this man has one as well. The handwriting on the "reserved" sign seems to match.

She will generally take 10 on a Perform (Acting) roll to act like a person from a lower class than she herself is. That produces a result of 22. Her disguise roll (see under the spoiler) got a result of 24, which is the DC to recognize her as the actress, Chandra Florianus.


Male Human Steel Hound 1 | HP 10/10

Pulled out of his thoughts, Daniel whirls around in surprise at the intimate greeting "Lov... What?!" and finds himself face to face with the woman. He blushes slightly, but grasps his belt pouch containing his gold firmly; after all, it is a common tactic for pick-pockets to employ a captivating woman to distract the target. "She must be a..." However before he can finish the thought, he is pulled back out yet again by her words. He catches the card awkwardly, and reads it over. As he looks up, her silhouette is disappearing into the crowd, "Wait! Stop!" He calls after her, but alas, no reply.

However strange the little ordeal with the woman was though, it did strike a nerve with him. He is not happy about the state of Westcrown at all. Hope, curiousity and consternation wars within him as he stands outside of the establishment. In the end, hope lost out completely, and curiousitiy, as per usual, dominated consternation.

Daniel opens the door. At the sound of creaking, he curses himself and his clumsiness. Of course such a decrepit place would present difficulties. "Defintely not your usual dinner rendezvous" he thinks to himself as he glances inside. "Oh holy f...!" With a yelp and a curse Daniel almost jumps back when he sees the two people inside. He exhales hard and clears his throat before he speaks "Umm, hello, who are you people? I don't suppose you're here for supper?" he asks skeptically from the door. "Great, I don't know what I expected... I doubt I can take them both." He stays in the doorway, weighing his options.

At about 5'8", Daniel is rather short. He wears a long gray woolen coat over a simple white linen shirt, a beige waistcoat and cotton khakis supported by a dark-brown leather belt. The belt includes several small loops for tying pouches, a waterskin, a rapier scabbard and extends into a bandolier gun holster worn beneath the waistcoat. He has clear brown eyes and medium to long length golden/dark blonde hair gathered in a ponytail, which hangs like a mane around his clean shaven, angular face. On his cheek is a single straight scar.


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

Aristaios stands and brushes some dust off his almost immaculate white robes, a red trim their only adornment, along with the red belt sash with a wide scabbard tucked into it, holding a plain-looking sword. From his neck hangs a carved wooden longsword, easily recognizable as Iomedae's sacred emblem.

He extends his hand.

"It is an honor and a pleasure, Chandra. I am called Aristaios, of the Upper Reach."

He quirks an eyebrow at Daniel.

"Jumpy, hmm? To be expected, no doubt. As I said, my name is Aristaios. I suppose we will have to wait for our mutual "lover" to arrive. I honestly hope that's soon, else I'll have to beg my bread tonight. And you are?"


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

knowledge (Relgion): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Chandra remains seated, but shakes Aristaios' hand and smiles, partly out of politeness but also at the odd and somehow deliciously exotic combination of Tiefling features, neat suit or uniform, and the formalism of his greeting. Not something one sees every day in polite Westcrown society, she thinks. She sees the sword pendant, but can't immediately place it. It is certainly not any of the common religions or orders of Cheliax nobility. So much to learn!

As the newcomer edges in, she looks again at the prepared area. Seven chairs. In the dim light, she can't immediately tell if it is a man or a woman joining them. She regards him with curiosity and feels a thrill of anticipation at the events to come. To put him at ease, she keeps her hands on the table and crosses her long legs.

Then she notices a gun on his belt. She has fired a few guns, mostly prop guns, but once she arranged to fire a real pistol, just to get an idea of the kick-back so she could put on a more convincing performance, should she ever have to fire one on stage.

At Aristaios' mention of begging for bread, Chandra begins to wonder anew at this stranger. He does not look as if he is one of the homeless beggars who elicit such pity from her as she passes them at the edges of marketplaces.


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

Assuming I don’t know anything about Vizio’s Tavern that perturbs me enough not to attend the appointment

Abraham walks the streets of the Rego Spera for some time before the appointed meeting. The elf is tall even for his race and carries himself with an almost straight-backed rigidity that makes him seem taller still. His body is lean and slim and the fitted suit he wears with white cravat makes him looks every inch the gentleman.

He isn’t of course, not by birth nor right nor wealth. But appearances must be kept in certain quarters.

He scratches a finger along his long, hawk-like nose as he considers the card he was offered. Vizio’s seemed an inoccuous enougb setting for a clandestine meeting and loathed as he was to admit it his own investigations into Snipe’s whereabouts had been frustratingly fruitless. He was almost certain his mentor was dead. But he had enough faith in the man to think he may have been onto something with his talk of the Council and he meaned to pull on that thread to see what it unravelled.

He wasn’t surprised to look up and find himself situated halfway down the street from Vizio’s. It wouldn’t be the first time his conscious mind had been mulling over a problem whilst his subconscious had taken care of mundane activities such as ambulation.

He straightened his suit beneath his long frock coat that he used to keep the small crossbow and quarrel he carried concealed. After which, he strode through the door.

The room was empty save for three other occupants. All armed. That set him on edge, but he noted a look of expectation on their faces as he entered only for them to soften a moment later and deduced that they, like he, were waiting for another party.

Good evening gentlemen. Madame. Am I to take it that we have all been invited to the same mysterious late supper?


Male Fetchling Paladin 1 | HP 13 | AC17 FF10 T17 | Saves +4/+0/+1 | Init +0 | Percep -1

I'm guessing she's not evil and maybe wants to keep some mystique about her..

Viktyr nods as the woman keep quiet and begins to walks away, leaving him with only the card and her bold impression. He then nods to himself. If they know about me I should atleast show my face, if what she spoke of was true it's my duty..

--

Viktyr walks the streets of Westcrown with a purpose, letter in hand he asks around Vizio's Tavern. Finding the Inn the letter pointed out was no hard task nor was getting there, but standing outside it now he felt some trepidation. The same feeling he had the night he fought the shadow beast, something big was going to happen here secret letters leading to secret meetings.

Entering the building he spots four other people, but not the woman who invited him. As he looks up at the people assembled, he finally shows his face. His skin looks bleached white as does his hair it stands out as it's contrasted against the dark leather hood and cloak he's wearing, that covers his armor, weapons and shield. While standing out from the cloak is a light carved wooden longsword hanging from a length of leather cord.

He scans the room looking at each person seeing if he recognises anyone but seeing all new faces he steps closer into the room, finally taking his hood off. "Good evening. It seems i wasnt the only one our mysterious woman invited." He nods, as he moves closer into the room.


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

Abraham steps aside as the latest newcomer enters the tavern.

He sees the man is broad and we'll armed and starts putting the pieces of this puzzle together.

This is an odd collection. Though everyone at least looks very capable. We have been gathered here for a singular purpose...

Indeed not. Abraham replies. And since I have no means of knowing how many others are due, I think I will pour myself a drink.

He wanders to behind the bar and starts looking for anything resembling alcohol or a clean glass. Eventually, tucked behind a broken shelf is a half bottle of Virisian brandy, the bottle caked in dust and filth. He pops the cork with a thumb and sniffs and with a raised eyebrow acknowledges it as actually a good vintage.

A series of mismatching glasses are also strewn behind the bar and he takes each one and with a puff blows the entirety of the dust from their surfaces, leaving then gleaming clean. (Prestidigitation)

My name is Abraham Maedrhos. he says as he pours. And you are? he adds, passing the glasses around.

That man's heritage is odd. At first I thought him a tiefling, but none like I have ever known.

I don't know what knowledge check it is to identify a fetchling. If Local Abe probably knows what Viktyr is with a take 10 of 19


Male Fetchling Paladin 1 | HP 13 | AC17 FF10 T17 | Saves +4/+0/+1 | Init +0 | Percep -1

Viktyr studies the tall elf, as he walks around the bar then offers out a drinks. He slowly follows along stepping past the other sitting at the table giving them a nod, then standing at the bar he places his shield on the bar top and holds up a hand rejecting the drink. "No thank you, i think for now i should keep my head clear. My names Viktyr Creed, devoted of Iomedae." He speaks out to everyone in the room, then turns back to Abraham.

Taking off his holy symbol he stares at Abraham. "I mean you no harm or offence, its for my own peace of mind i just wish to discern your true nature. He then takes up his holy symbol and mutters a few words. Detect Evil

Happy with what he sensed he nods at the man. "It's a habit i've picked up when meeting new people, This town is full of evil people. It's good to know you're not one of them." He then reaches in to his cloak and pulls out a cantina of water and pours it into a glass. "We're all here for a reason, this mysterious woman spoke to me of helping with some troubles around here. What about you?" He takes up his glass and drink looking to each of their faces still unsure of the assembled group.


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2
Abraham wrote:
"Good evening gentlemen. Madame. Am I to take it that we have all been invited to the same mysterious late supper?"

"Afternoon," Chandra replies, glancing at the daylight struggling to shine into the room through the grimy windows, cracking a wry smile with a wink at Aristaios. As for our invitations, were anyone here not invited by a redhead in leather, with a card like this? She holds up her invitation and sets it deliberately on the table in front of her, writing side up, hoping others will show their invites.

When no one speaks up, she nods, happy to figure that bit out.

A hulking man entered, with strangely pale features, clearly some kind of warrior but evidently not a hellknight.

Viktyr wrote:
"Good evening. It seems I wasn't the only one our mysterious woman invited."
Abraham wrote:
"Indeed not." Abraham replies. "And since I have no means of knowing how many others are due, I think I will pour myself a drink."

"Afternoon!" Chandra blurts out. "Cor, why 's everyone so bloody anxious to pronounce it evening? Are we going shadow beast huntin'? Anyway, I think we're expectin' two more," she said, mentally counting the five in the room and subtracting that from the seven chairs. "Prob'ly one more like oursefs and Red."

Inwardly, Chandra chuckled as she imagined what some of her friends would say if they knew she was in an abandoned tavern with a tiefling, an elf, a man, and an albino warrior. They would doubtless be frantic for her safety and urging her to run for her life.

Abraham wrote:
"My name is Abraham Maedrhos," he says as he pours. "And you are?" he adds, passing the glasses around.

Chandra accepts a glass of wine, saying "Thanks, Abe. Chandra 'ere." She does not taste the wine, however, waiting for others to be served.

The pale one introduced himself as one devoted to Iomedae. Finally she connected the sword symbol worn by Aristaios to the religion it represented. The affluent of Westcrown looked down their noses at such 'do-gooder' religions, worried that they were only interested in taking over and forcing things to be done the 'right' way. Chandra had never learned much about them, except that many were up at the Worldwound fighting the demons trying to invade the Inner Sea. Then he scanned us all for evil intent. Finding none, at least none that he cared to identify, Chandra relaxed a little.


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

"Aristaios of the Upper Reach. It's always an honor to meet a brother in the faith."

He bows to Viktyr, his average height and slim physique an odd contrast to the paladin's broad frame.

He shakes his head at Abraham's offer of a drink.

"The path I have chosen to walk must be pursued with a sober and focused mind. I don't drink alcohol."


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

And all the power to you for it, sir. I myself have found that certain libations help to stave of the tedium of inactivity. he says, taking a swallow.

He turns to the other Iomedian.

Not at all. I have known several of your faith and they have all been nothing less than diligent. I hope my past indiscretions don't put some sort of black mark against me now. he says cheerfully.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

At the lady's outburst, Abraham tilts his head slightly, as might a bird who has heard a sudden noise.

The girl seemed common enough, but the catsuit and the well-made rapier certainly spoke of a means beyond the proletariat. There was also something odd about her appearance. The wig too was very well-made and the make-up applied with the duty and care to attention of a professional but plain to see for a man used to noticing the minutiae.

He doesn't recognise the woman, but he can see plainly enough that she wishes to maintain a level of anonymity.

A sensible precaution. he thinks. For who knows what words of sedition might be spoken among such a motley crew as this.

He tries not to show that he saw anything was amiss, not for secrecy's sake, but to respect a lady's wishes.

Chandra:

Bluff untrained: 1d20 ⇒ 3

You will very likely beat that

The smile that spreads across his face is enough to say that Abraham at least recognised a disguise when he saw one. After all, he lives to piece these kinds of puzzles together.

I agree with you, my lady. There is another that we are waiting for. Though the hour grows close to four, perhaps they had a change of heart?


Male Human Steel Hound 1 | HP 10/10

At the formal greeting and the sight of the symbol of Iomedae Daniel relaxes visibly. I'm sorry, you startled me is all. My name is Daniel, and I'm pleased to an agent of the inheritor here in this land of darkness. They are few and far between." Daniel walks in properly, closing the door after himself.

Daniel takes the seat next to Aristaios. "Hmm, Seven chairs huh? Guess we're expecting yet more people." As people arive, Daniel greets them all, making quick judgements and putting two-and-two together in regards to the situation.

On Abraham: "Hmm, a spellcrafter of sorts, and not afraid to show it. He might be showing off simple tricks to appear more competent than he truly is. Apparently he likes to take charge."

On Viktyr: "Aha! yet another of the Inheritor's agents!" He comment when Viktyr mentions his devotion to Iomedae. "A cautious fellow, as he should be in this this land. Iomedae stands for honor and justice if I remember correctly; two things Westcrown is in desperate need of. A likely ally, even if he looks a little pale. Even if nothing else comes of the this gathering, I should explore the chance for aid in hunting the things in the shadows."

Daniel accepts the glass graciously "Thank you, Abraham was it? Much obliged" And takes a sip.

"So. I guess we're two short still? I assume one spot is for the mysterious crimson haired woman who seem to have extended all the invitations herself, leaving one spot short. Might that be her superior? Or maybe a partner?"


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

Chandra had been waiting for everyone to have a drink to offer a toast, but when two of the other 4 declined, she gives up and takes a tentative taste. 1d10 ⇒ 10

Molto bene! she thinks. Sober bunch, this lot. Wonder what these Iomedians ... Iomedists? ... anyway, I wonder what they do to cut loose? Chuckle maybe?

Nervous energy gets the better of Chandra. She stands and begins to explore the tavern, looking at whatever pictures remain on the walls, reading graffiti, peeking under tables and behind closed doors, curious if anyone might be spying on them.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 1

When she gets to a door leading back to the kitchen, she calls out, "Anyone up for a little exploring? Might be good to find out if this place has a back exit. If we're being recruited to ... do what Red said, best to have an escape route."


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

To me she only implied that we might be able to aid one another, she did not make any proposal on the street. Still, it's obvious this isn't a social gathering, no matter how good this wine is. So yes, my lady - Chandra - I shall come along.

Abraham takes his glass with him as he begins looking through the back rooms and stores. He is looking for anything unusual including signs of occupation and any other exits.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

So, Chandra, why do you think you were approached to join... whatever this is? he asks with casual, but genuine, interest.


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

"Well," Chandra says, fiddling with a dumb waiter, "From the looks of this crowd, I'd say I'm the people person. I got mad skills for persuading people to go along with things they might not ordinarily do. I know a lot and I know people. Plus ..." she turns away from Abraham and quietly says, "sonus phantasma", touches her ear with her hand, and dispenses a pinch of something from a small pouch at her hip.

Instantly, Abraham hears a cat hissing and growling as if warning it is about to pounce, from a cabinet just above his head. It sounds quite menacing.

DC 15 Spellcraft check:
Ghost Sound

Disbelieve Will Save DC 14:
The sound is an illusion. It goes on for about ten seconds and then is silent.

After the sound begins, she turns as if startled and calls out, "A cat's about to jump on your head!" and points to a spot just out of Abraham's view above his head.

Bluff: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

After this little demonstration concludes, she continues looking in drawers and under cabinets, as if nothing happened. "I suspect you are the perceptive one. I take it you spotted my disguise. Thanks for not mentioning it. I'm not being dishonest; I just can't be seen doing something like this. It would be ... awkward if my family and friends, and my enemies, knew about this little adventure. Might be nothing comes of it. Don't want to burn any bridges. I got a nice day job."


Male Fetchling Paladin 1 | HP 13 | AC17 FF10 T17 | Saves +4/+0/+1 | Init +0 | Percep -1

Viktyr is able to show a little smile and nod at Chandra.

He then eye's up Aristaios as he mentions his faith. He then offers his hand in friendship. "It is an honor, to find another of the faith here.. I thought myself a single light in the darkness. We will have much to talk about after this." Viktyr begins to ease up, as the introductions go well and he has some common ground with the others present.

He turns to Abraham as he jokes of his past."You seem a man of good heart, you are all are. We're in good company." Taking another drink of water.

He look down at Daniel again happy to see another that knows the faith. "Even the Inheritor light shines here. I can't say i was welcomed with open arms. But something kept me here, a sense of wrong."


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
Will: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

Abraham is not fooled by the illusion but smiles at it's execution.

I couldn't place the spell. he says, delightedly. A figment of course but there was something in your execution that I haven't seen in those classically trained in magic, something... he taps his finger to his lips as he thinks. ...theatrical. Very impressive!

And please, you are more than welcome about the disguise. A lady should have her secrets. he adds with a smile.

I can see how you would be as persuasive as our mutual friend. By his posture I would hazard a guess that Daniel is more than competent in the use of that pistol he carries while the others are certainly physically impressive. For my own part you must not think it immodest of me to say that I am possessed of a rare intellect and no little skill in the arcane. This is a team in the making, that would be my opinion, though for what purpose only time will tell. Come, he says, gesturing his hand before him like a gentleman. Let us rejoin the others.


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6
Daniel R. Peterson wrote:
At the formal greeting and the sight of the symbol of Iomedae Daniel relaxes visibly. I'm sorry, you startled me is all. My name is Daniel, and I'm pleased to an agent of the inheritor here in this land of darkness. They are few and far between." Daniel walks in properly, closing the door after himself.

"Don't I know...I've spent the last ten years hiding in the Aspodells. I don't have many fond memories of Westcrown, but it's home."

Quote:
Daniel accepts the glass graciously "Thank you, Abraham was it? Much obliged" And takes a sip.

"Isn't that an unusual name for an elf?" Aristaios adds.

Yeesh, I go for a combination of Uesugi Kenshin and Batman and end up with Mr. Spock. Not that that's a bad thing, mind you.


Male Tiefling Kineticist 1 | HP -1/12 | AC 16, touch 14, FF 12 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +0 | Init +4, Perception +4

The Morning Before:
Blast was crouched in an alley when the woman came calling. He'd risen early that morning, as usual, from an inability to get a good night's rest and a need to begin the day early to get his work done. Never a spare moment in the life of a thief. He took a pair of the younger urchins with him for lookouts, figuring they could use the practice and knowing that even they would probably do better at noticing trouble than he would, given his nerves these days. He could still pick a mark easily enough and was as sharp as ever with his talents, but the pocket picking was mostly a reflexive endeavor these days. Blast's mind was on other things.

As such, he had just lifted the merchant's purse from his pocket when he heard the voice behind his ear. The tiefling broke his concentration suddenly and violently--the purse tore itself in two and spilled dozens of gold and silver coins to the ground. Barely hearing the loud cursing and shouting from the street, Blast spun to face the speaker, bringing his hands up to display the metal gauntlet with sharp spikes he wore. "Back off--" he cut himself short at the sight of the woman, surprised both by her appearance and her attitude toward him. Instinctively crouching down, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Who's your lover? Certainly isn't me. As for helping, well." She flicks the card and he reaches out with his mind, guiding it into his hand without taking his eyes from her. Nonplussed, she walks past him out into the street, and he quickly loses sight of her in the growing throng--angry merchant, opportunistic paupers, and before much longer, the guard.

Blast breathes a curse at his luck, the woman, and the urchins who probably left to get a snack of distract themselves. With a snap of his fingers, he calls an errant silver to his hand--Enough to buy breakfast, how wonderful--and slips back into the shadows of the alley, slinking away into the back streets of the dying city. Vizio's tavern? Probably not worth the risk... He chuckles to himself, realizing that it's as good a lead to work as any--pickings had been slim recently. And Daniel's always going on about the good fight against the shadows...

About the same time that Abraham and Chandra return to the main room, the door opens again and another figure steps in. Like Daniel, he isn't very tall, although it's hard to gauge his exact build under his long, broad coat and scarf. He pulls a hood down shortly after entering the room, upon seeing another tiefling seated at the table. It reveals dark red hair, mostly straight and pulled back messily, with a pair of small black horns at the temples and eyes that burn amber even in the dim light of the room. His thin face is pale, sporting short bristles of facial hair and the thin layer of dirt that coats his whole body. He shrugs his shoulders and glances behind him as he shuts the door with a foot, and you notice the collar of his coat is pulled up--hiding most of his face from those not looking directly at him from the front. He reaches up to flip the collar down, hesitates, and then drops his hands, stepping forward after a moment.

Giving a nod to those seated, he looks to the bar and sees the glasses and bottle. Holding out his hand, the bottle lifts easily from the bar's surface and sails smoothly into his grasp along with one of the glasses, and he pours himself a drink before sending the bottle back and moving to the table. Seeing the card Chandra had placed, he reaches into a pocket--revealing worn-looking leather armor (and with a DC 24 Perception check, a curious bulge in the scarf, likely from a dagger)--and flips out his own invitation before taking a seat. Drumming his fingers on the table, he takes a sip of the wine and gives a small smile to the others. "You all here for a dinner with the lover too, then? She must get around. And I mean really around. Another tiefling? And Daniel, I wouldn't have guessed you'd be her type if I was."


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

"Have we met before? I think I've seen a face like yours in Rego Cader, many years ago..."

Aristaios strokes his beard a bit.


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2
Abraham wrote:
"I couldn't place the spell." he says, delightedly. "A figment of course but there was something in your execution that I haven't seen in those classically trained in magic, something... he taps his finger to his lips as he thinks. ...theatrical. Very impressive!"

Chandra responds with a well-practiced smile that manages to say You are too kind while also saying You are right, of course. "Thank you. I have been accused of being a drama queen," she allows. "Treating magic as an art seems more fitting to me, or at least to my temperament. 'All Golorian is a stage, ...' as the bard said."

Abraham goes on for a bit more, but Chandra's attention is drawn back to the dumbwaiter. "I wonder if this goes up or down...."

Abraham wrote:
"... only time will tell. Come," he says, gesturing his hand before him like a gentleman. "Let us rejoin the others."

Chandra leaves the dumbwaiter and starts back toward the others. Just before leaving the kitchen, however, a mischievous look passes over her fair features. She gathers her cloak into a bundle in front of her chest and wraps her arms around it as if holding a cat. She recasts her Ghost Sound spell, this time producing the sound of a contentedly purring pussycat.

She enters the room and takes her seat again, saying only, "Made a new friend." She pretends to be petting the cat but keeps her cloak over it and won't let anyone see it. The purring stops after about ten seconds, but she periodically refreshes the spell when she can do under the cover of someone else speaking.

She notices a new arrival and casually takes his measure as she plays her charade. "Another tiefling. How strange. Hmmm.... Two tieflings and an elf walk into a bar," she thinks, laughing inwardly at her own cleverness.


Male Tiefling Kineticist 1 | HP -1/12 | AC 16, touch 14, FF 12 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +0 | Init +4, Perception +4

Will: 1d20 ⇒ 4

Blast looks at Chandra as she enters the room, one eyebrow raising at the apparent cat, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead he turns to the other tiefling and leans back in his chair. "The Cader? I'm not there too often myself. Most of my business keeps me in the Spera..." He muses over the cup, which floats in the air just beyond his hand. "Maybe I was called in to help with a... a job? Or you came to me?" He grabs the glass and takes a sip. "How long ago was it? Now you mention it I think I recognize you, as well. What's your name, chum? And your, ah, affiliation?"


Male Human Brawler 8/Bard (Archeologist) 2/Slayer 5
House Rules:

"I really hate to interrupt your conversation, loves, but I'm afraid you'll have to pick it up another time." The woman flashes a smile as she moves through the doorway, the bell tied to the door still silent as she slides it closed. She unclasps the cloak she wears about her neck, tossing it aside onto an empty table. She sashays across the barroom floor, over to the bottle of brandy Abraham left open at the bar. She pours herself a glass, then walks calmly over to take her seat at the table.

"Seems you've all made it here alright... although I remember inviting a blonde, not a redhead, love." She chuckles, rolling a lock of the wig's hair between her fingers as she walks by. No sooner than she sinks into her seat does a knife appear in her hands, rolling smoothly between her fingers as she talks. "I'm guessing you've all exchanged pleasantries, yes? Introductions, and all that? As I've mentioned before, I'm quite aware of all of you, so I won't be needing your names... though I guess you're all wanting mine. Name's Janiven, and I have a proposition for you all. Well, more than one, for some of you." She flashes a coy smile towards Chandra, then chuckles. "Just joking with you, lover. But truly, a proposition. How would you lot like to lend Westcrown a bit of help, hmm?"


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

Cradling his drink in both hands, Abraham nods at the latest newcomer as he enters and turns as the Red head, now known as Janiven, makes her appearance.

You've managed to get us all here. he says. Define 'help.' he adds seriously, setting his glass down to pay full attention


Male Fetchling Paladin 1 | HP 13 | AC17 FF10 T17 | Saves +4/+0/+1 | Init +0 | Percep -1

About to introduce himself to the new man he's stopped when a woman at the door catches his eye as she speaks out, he never got her name the first time they met but now he knows it Janiven the same one to invite us all here. Moving to take a seat he listens on to what she has to say, finally getting down to it.

Viktyr nods at Abragam words. "What help do you have in mind? Lets not be coy about it, we're all here for a reason." He sit hardly moving in his chair staring at Javien wanting to get the reason out of her.


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

As all eyes turn to view the group's host enter, Chandra moves one arm to her side and with the other picks up her brandy, letting her cloak drop and dismissing the illusion of a purring cat. She's curious if anyone will notice the difference.

While Chandra is as curious as everyone else to get a better look at the woman, she takes the opportunity to try to read the faces of the others in the room, curious to see which of these men stare at her face and which at other parts of her body. When Chandra finally gives her a once over, she notes her weapons and armor and then tries to read her body language. (In passing, she notices that the woman is well put together.) She's certainly comfortable in her body, with a graceful manner.

Chandra's a bit peeved that she outed her use of disguise, but amused at her manner and impressed by her sleight of hand that drew the dagger so quickly.

Once she's at the table, Chandra assumes a relaxed posture, toying with her brandy, keeping an eye on the others as Janivan introduces herself and makes her proposition. "Everyone is so serious," she thinks.

When Janivan makes her innuendo about having more than one proposition for Chandra, Chandra maintains her expression of curious expectation. She gets so many such come-ons, she's an expert at fielding them without giving away how she feels about the speaker. "Best to keep these boys guessing, anyway," she thinks.

Viktyr and Abraham want to get right to business, confirming Chandra's suspicions that they are not the life of any parties. But she has to admit, she too is very interested to see where this enterprise is headed. "This is going to be good!"


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6
Naberius, "Blast" wrote:
"How long ago was it? Now you mention it I think I recognize you, as well. What's your name, chum? And your, ah, affiliation?"

"This would have been about...twelve? Thirteen years ago? At any rate, I am Aristaios, formerly of Westcrown and now the Upper Reach. As to affiliations, I cut those ties long ago."

After Janiven interrupts the conversation and introduces herself, his eyes narrow, seeming to flicker in their sockets. The overly familiar way she spoke to them reminded him of Palaveen.

"I've heard speeches like that before, and they led me to dark work...what's the nature of this "help" we'd be giving the city. Helping it IS why I returned, but I'm no criminal, not anymore."


Male Tiefling Kineticist 1 | HP -1/12 | AC 16, touch 14, FF 12 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +0 | Init +4, Perception +4

Psst... Aristaios... Blast is only seventeen, twelve or thirteen years ago he would have been a toddler...

Blast shakes his head at the other tiefling's response. "Can't say I recall anything solid. And it's a shame you've cut ties--it's no good to be alone in a city like this."

He turns to face the red-haired woman as she enters, and calmly sips his brandy as she approaches. Though his eyes wander over her body, it's less "undressing" her and more looking for weapons or valuables. He doesn't see anything concerning, however, and raises an eyebrow at her comment toward Chandra but otherwise remains quiet.

Glancing at the others, he tries to catch eyes with Daniel, giving the investigator a questioning look. Good idea? Hesitantly, he flips the card back from the table to his hand and flicks it up between his fingers. "I think I'm gonna need some more info, yeah, 'lover.' First and foremost, if helping Westcrown also helps me. I try to stay altruistic in these tough times, but it's hard, you know?"


Male Human Brawler 8/Bard (Archeologist) 2/Slayer 5
House Rules:

Janiven smiles, the knife still twirling between her fingers. "Straight to the point, are we? How... expected. Very well, Abrahman," she says, grinning as she says his name, "I will define help. Westcrown is a city in its death throes. It tosses and turns, lifeblood dripping from its wounds at every step. We may be safe from war, from famine, but we are not safe from fear. Our safety and meager prosperity are bought with prayers to Hell. Other cities do not fear their protectors, other cities do not cede their streets to infernal shadow-beasts. And neither should we."

For a moment, the coy smile and flirtatious demeanor drops away, revealing a bitter anger in her eyes. Janiven pauses surprised, looking at the knife now clenched in her fist. She exhales, placing the knife back in its sheath, and the too-friendly smiles snaps back into place.

Aristaios of the Upper Reach wrote:
"I've heard speeches like that before, and they led me to dark work...what's the nature of this "help" we'd be giving the city. Helping it IS why I returned, but I'm no criminal, not anymore."
Naberius, "Blast" wrote:
"I think I'm gonna need some more info, yeah, 'lover.' First and foremost, if helping Westcrown also helps me. I try to stay altruistic in these tough times, but it's hard, you know?"

"I suppose you could call what we're doing a crime, if you subscribe to the Hellknights' view of things. I prefer to think of it as performing a service." She grins again, sliding a lock of her wavy hair away from her face. "A service to our brothers and sisters who work and live and die here on the streets of Westcrown.

She then turns to Blast, taking a sip from her glass. "If being compensated for your troubles is something you desire, love, I'll do my best to provide it. How exactly would you like to take your payments?"


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

"The citizens of Westcrown suffer from many evils," Chandra speaks up before young Blast can answer. Then she glances at Aristaios, Abraham, and Blast and adds, "as do countless others who serve as slaves or suffer in the slums. We have devils in our midst, inquisitors seeking out traitors and blasphemers, neighbors serving as spies to make themselves safe from these same evils, and the nights are owned by the shadow beasts and those who control them. You have not yet said what we going to be doing. Which of these evils do you propose we eliminate as part of our 'service' to the city." Chandra realizes as she finishes how much emotion has crept into her voice. She had been keeping a lot bottled up for a long time. She also notices she is standing, leaning forward, hands on the table, looking Janivan in the eyes.


Male Human Brawler 8/Bard (Archeologist) 2/Slayer 5
House Rules:

"Now I see why you wore the red one, Chandra." Janiven laughs, just slightly, as Chandra finishes her tirade. "Rather feisty tonight, aren't we? I can live with that. And you're right, we Wiscrani suffer a large number of injustices, all leading back to the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune. But there's little a group such as us can do about a problem so large as that." Unlike before, you can clearly tell her voice is measured, keeping her emotions on the subject from escaping her lips. Her jaw seems set, and the slow, deliberate tone of her voice suggests the same bitter anger that erupted from her before. "But that's not what I'm suggesting. I am a member, the second-in-command, of a group that aims to aid Westcrown's citizens in any way we can. We help people, to put it simply. For now, anyway."

After a few moments, Janiven looks towards the door, then back to the party. She drums her fingers on the table, then speaks. "Perhaps one day, after we've gained the support of the citizens, we can aim bigger. But for now, it's what we do."


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

Aristaios nods as Janiven speaks her piece.

"Now you're speaking MY language, Janiven. Bringing justice to my home will be payment enough for me. Who is your leader, that I may pledge my sword to them?" he says, a smile forming on his face.


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

Abraham pinches the bridge of his nose at Aristaios' sudden enthusiasm.

A moment, sir. Whether we subscribe to the Hellknight's point of view is irrelevant. he says. What you're describing is a crime in Westcrown. That is simply a fact. And none of us should be under the illusion that it is anything other - you clearly aren't, Janiven, or else you wouldn't have asked us to meet in secret.

So before I go pledging swords or anything else for that matter, I'd like to know how you propose to help the people. What is also a fact is that the people of this city are ruled by fear and absolutism. Neither of which are agreeable to me and I have heard tell of some of the agents in the darkness who at least contribute to these conditions. A dear friend and colleague of mine has recently disappeared, no doubt killed, for largely the same actions as we here are taking. It is a dangerous game you propose we play. I have been investigating his disappearance for some time now and so I suppose I am already playing it, but how many pieces do you have on the board? Who is this group you work for and what deeds do you accomplish?


Male Fetchling Paladin 1 | HP 13 | AC17 FF10 T17 | Saves +4/+0/+1 | Init +0 | Percep -1

Viktyr darts back and forth as Janovan speaks trying to judge each person's reactions.

He turns to Aristaios rubbing his chin. "Brother, while your enthusiasm is admirable. We can't be blinded by our will to save this town.

Standing he looks to be thinking over something. "Abramham has the right of it, while most of us might not agree with the laws they are still the laws. I've seen Hellknights abuse their power, as you said the people should not fear those here to protect them." He pauses for a moment lost in a thought. "I've had first experience with the monsters that haunt the night, these shadow beasts kill so many and nothing is done about them they are just another part of the life in Westcrown, no one should fear the night."

He pauses again, wanting to think of his words more than he normally would. "You've called us all here to help this city while i'm not sure what you plans are to do this, I'm interested I wish to stand for those who can't stand for themselves but while working within the law, we can't openly break them. We can't expect to overthrow the rightful government."

"If you really want our help please tell us what your plans are to help this city."


Male Human Steel Hound 1 | HP 10/10

Before Janiven's arrival interupts:

"Blast my friend, well met!" Daniel gets up from his chair, smiling like a child on christmas, to greet Blast with a shake of hands. "Honestly Blast, I still think we have a lot more in common than you acknowledge."

Having listened attentively until now, Daniel catches Blast's look and responds by speaking up.

"Aristaios, Abraham, I believe you are too quick to trust and distrust, and too caught up in your own hopes and fears." He looks intently at Janiven before he continues "So far, what Miss Janiven here has been asking is whether we truly share her concerns for Westcrown, and share her will in saving a suffering city; if we're willing to throw caution to the wind for the chance to do the right thing. Even if that demands us to bend or break the law and become criminals. The law should not be a tool for the strong to control the weak or unfortunate, and safety should never come at the cost of liberty as it has here in Westcrown. My allegiance is to Westcrown and its people; that is my answer to your question, Miss Janiven." Realizing he was still standing, Daniel sits down and takes a sip of the wine.

"Abraham, I do share a lot of your misgivings, but you cannot expect the miss to simply hand out that kind of information, especially not in this kind of setting. Some might turn such things over the the rightful government." Daniel gives a displeased tch at that, "I agree with almost everything you said, Viktyr, except I can't understand your usage of the word rightful."


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

Each time anyone mentions "the law" Chandra rolls her eyes until finally she speaks up. "You all keep dancing around something you know very well. Even youngsters such as Blast and I know that everyone breaks the law. The laws are written such that no one can obey them all, even if you wanted to try. It's a tool of control that can always be trotted out if a Hellknight wants a little extra spending money or a noble wants an excuse to put a rival in hot water. Hells, it's even against the law to offer a bribe, but the fastest way to get into trouble is to fail to offer one. But when you do, you can't call it a bribe." Chandra pauses for breath, but before anyone can interrupt, she continues.

"Anyone who wants to do anything in Westcrown has to dance between the laws. So let's not quibble about that but tell us specifically what good we can do to the people right now. If it has the chance of leading to bigger and more troublesome things for House Thrune, I'm all in."


Male Human Steel Hound 1 | HP 10/10

Daniel jumps at Chandra's words and leans forwards over the table towards her: "On the contrary, Chandra, bribes are not, in fact, illegal in Cheliax. As per the Asmodean Disciplines it is, essentially, encouraged. This is one of the major problems, in my eyes, with Chelaxian, and by extension wiscrani, law. " as he finishes, he leans back into his chair. "That said, your point still stands. And that is another major problem with the laws: their design is contrarie to all that which functional laws should be."


Male Human Brawler 8/Bard (Archeologist) 2/Slayer 5
House Rules:

"Their design benefits no one, except those who are in the position to take advantage of it. Yet another of Westcrown's many problems." Again, Janiven's eyes shoot to the door, if only for a moment. The drumming of her fingers on the table grows heavier. "I understand your misgivings, but doing anything positive here in Westcrown will mean defying it's laws, and it's... 'rightful' rulers." She looks to Viktyr as the disgust becomes blatant in her words. "You may have to shed some of your idealism, love, if you truly want to help the people."

"When I say aiding the people, that is what I mean. We will help shop keeps make sure their goods arrive unmolested. Help bartenders take care of unruly patrons. Escort those who must walk the few lit streets after dark. Deal with those who seek to harass and extort the people of Westcrown." Janiven pours herself another glass of brandy, although she seems careful not to drink too much that she becomes tipsy. While faint, a touch of nervousness can be heard in her voice, and her eyes now flit towards the door every chance she gets.

"And as for 'pledging your sword', Arael should be arriving shortly. I'm surprised he hasn't already arrived, as a matter of fact."


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

"Too quick to trust? No. I was like that once, and it's why I left Westcrown all those years ago, because those I trusted didn't deserve that trust. I don't see that in Janiven. I see someone like me, someone Cheliax has hurt for too long, someone burning to do the right thing. To hear a brother in the faith call the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune Westcrown's "rightful" rulers? If they were they'd not need Devils and shadows to hold their power! Have you not lived in this city?! Not seen what it does to people?! No one will help us unless we stand up for ourselves and show those jesters they call the dottari how it's done!"

Aristaios appears to be getting as agitated as Janiven.


(RETIRED)
Stats:
AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 11 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 size) HP 9 (1d6+2+1) Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +2; +2 vs enchantment | Str 8, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 20, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +0; CMB 2; CMD 12
Skills:
Diplo +0, Kn (arc) +9, Kn (loc) +9, Kn (pl) +9, Ling +9, Perc +7, Prof (barrister) +4, SM +5, Spellcraft +9/+11, UMD +9

I believe Viktyr's use of the word rightful was akin to legal. Abraham says with a shrug. Which for a man of his position as a paladin and, I suspect, moral standing is probably something of an issue when we talk of acting against that legal position. So before we all judge and jump down his throat let's just remember none of us really knows one another. the elf adds with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

Having said that, what you propose is small measures that may have a great effect and I'm sure in principle that is something we can all agree with. This city is a serpent's nest.

Arael. Am I to assume that he is the head of your group Janiven?


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

"I bloody KNOW what he meant, Abraham!" Aristaios barks as he turns abruptly to Abraham, glaring.

"And that a paladin would say that is even worse. Lending even a hint of legitimacy to a regime that virtually outlaws your holy calling? Shame on you!"


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

"You boys can argue semantics all you like. The only law each of us needs to obey is the law of our own consciences. I pay lip service where I have to but that is only a coward's way to avoid trouble unless I find a way to frustrate the evil that rules the land. So let's agree to help those in need and navigate the vagaries of law and rightful rulers as best we can. As a wise woman once said, 'The things you are able to do right now may seem insignificant, but it is very important that you do them."

Knowledge (Religion) DC 15 to know the source of this quote:

This is a quote attributed to Milani, the Everbloom, Patron Saint of Rebels. It is evidence that Chandra has been learning about the cult recently, for the authorities certainly don't permit such books in libraries and churches of Milani are always underground and secret.

The quote comes from Gandhi, actually. I made up the connection to Milani, but it seems apt.


Male Fetchling Paladin 1 | HP 13 | AC17 FF10 T17 | Saves +4/+0/+1 | Init +0 | Percep -1

"Forgive me I didnt mean to cause any trouble." He holds up his hands. "I just wish to point out the facts. I want to help those in need, its the reason i assume you came to me Janiven. Its the reason Im here today, but what we do now would be deemed illegal." He attempts to relax the situation.

"But you misunderstand me Aristaios, i dont assume to know the politics of this country i simply know they rule here. As i wouldn't assume to start a war in the streets because of their faith, a fight i wouldn't win and a fight the church would not condone. We are taught to judge the battle field and work with what we have. Thier worshipers of demons and fiends, I have my oath sworn to Iomedae to slay them all and not let one get away." He talks with a slow, commanding manner.

"Chandra is right, we can all agree we want to help there is no debating that."


Male Tiefling Monk 1 | HP 11/11
Stats:
AC 16, T 16, FF 12; Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2; Init +3; Perception +6

Aristaios frowns.

"So you ARE a foreigner."

He inhales sharply and closes his eyes, sitting back in his chair and apparently trying to center himself.

"I...I don't want to start a war either. One man cannot move a mountain or defeat an army, you are right. I apologize. But worshipers of fiends rule this land. I'm living proof of that. And I know just breaking the law would call down their wrath. But too often fear of that wrath has been used to excuse complacency. Westcrown is the way it is now because people are too scared to break laws that even the Inheritor herself would say need breaking. I am not afraid to defy House Thrune in my own small way. None of us should be."


Female Human Bard 1 Stats: hp 8/8; AC 17/T 13/FF 14; F +0 / R +5 / W +2; Init +3; Perc 0; BP 8/8; 1st 2/2

Chandra leans forward and takes a deep breath and speaks, "Janiven's plan has a great virtue that may keep us relatively safe from retribution: the things she described--helping merchants avoid plunder of their shipments, helping keep the peace in bars, keeping people safe on the streets--if we do these things, how can the church and government persecute us? Are these not the things our leaders and our government should be doing? And each time we accomplish some task, we gain some support from the people. That support represents power, and perhaps with enough of that power, we can force some changes for the better.

She looks at Janiven. "Have I got the right of your plan? Or is it this Arael's plan?"

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