Darkness (Inactive)

Game Master Treppa

A Tale of Westcrown


1 to 50 of 527 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | next > last >>

MWAH-HA-HAAA

Westcrown is bustling on Fireday afternoon. Merchants close up shop and people leave work a little early to spend an extra hour in taverns and restaurants before hastening home to bar the windows and doors against the shadows. A cold breeze from the north chills despite the generally moderate climate of the Inner Sea.

A boarded-up tavern sits near the pier where one of the island ferries disgorges passengers commuting to their mainland homes from their jobs on the island. None many can afford to live in Parego Regicona, and few would be welcome to. Despite its prime location, the tavern has a rather weathered but neatly painted wooden sign on the front: Under New Management. Closed for Renovations. Former regulars give their old haunt wistful glances as they wonder when the place will be open again, but easily find another spot for a plate of stew, fresh bread, and a glass of wine. Visio's has been closed for quite some time now. Apparently the new owners had plenty of money to buy the place, but not enough for all the changes they wanted to make. Don't know why they need to change things. It was fine the way it was, when the Visio family ran it.

A group of Hellknights clop through the city past the tavern as the bells strike three times, pedestrians scattering from their path. They seem to be in no hurry and look around casually as they trot past, alert for trouble.

Knock on the alley door when ready.


Human

The figure looked out from under his wide brimmed hat after the Hellknights passed by. He looked casually around the street, observing the passers-by and noting their comments. IF he was worried about the Hellknights, he showed no sign of it other than not attracting their attention.

The figure shifted impatiently, the over sized cloak doing little to hide the scarecrow frame of the tall, thin man wearing it. He had arrived over an hour earlier, intent on observing the comings and goings of the building across the cobblestone street, but the boarded up building had proven distinctly uneventful. Boring, even. While he was no stranger to self-control, he was not a dull-witted guard, used to standing for long periods of time. He decided that the last hour must have been the longest of his short but exciting career.

"Oh,... to Hades with it!" He muttered to no one.

"Patience is NOT my virtue!" He declared defensively to the air above him.

"I'm going in. Keep an eye out."

"And try not to wait until the guy is RIGHT behind me before warning me this time?" He adds in a half-irritated, half-pleading voice. The only response is a raspberry from the roof above. A moment later it is followed by the sound of flapping wings as a large crow lifts off from the roof of the building he is standing next to and flies to the corner of another building across the street.

After a last glance down the street after the Hellknights, the tall, skinny figure strides across the street and between the buildings. A moment later he stops at the alley door to the boarded up Visio's pub. He peers at the door curiously, then raps upon it with the head of his heavy cane.


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

Ugh, Hellknights, Camris thinks as he tries to hide his disgust. Then he notices the tall (well...they're all tall, aren't they?) human knocking on the door with his cane.

"Oh good, it's so nice to meet one of my compatriots already. I'm Camris Findlespur," the rosy-cheeked halfling says to the man at the door.


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}

Ah. The inn is right here. I did not plan to be so punctual. I have a reputation to uphold, afterall. Araxus briefly considers running an errand so as to arrive late for the meeting and better establish himself as someone who needs to be won over, but he never cared much for this part of town and cannot conceive what he would do here for fifteen minutes.

As the Hellknights pass, he regards them openly with a deferential nod. He is not accostomed to hiding from them, although he does not care for their presence. Arrogant bastards.

He sees some others approaching the door he has been eying. He hesitates briefly to make sure the Hellknights have passed out of site before approaching. He does not speak to the two visitors at the door, but waits beside them for the door to open. He lets his fine garb, manicured appearance, and aristocratically aloof manner speak for themselves.


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

Camris notes the new arrival. He seems rather shy. It's hard to make friends in Westcrown, so I can certainly understand.

Camris reaches out his hand to Araxus. "Hello sir. My name is Camris Findlespur."


Human
Camris Findlespur wrote:

Ugh, Hellknights, Camris thinks as he tries to hide his disgust. Then he notices the tall (well...they're all tall, aren't they?) human knocking on the door with his cane.

"Oh good, it's so nice to meet one of my compatriots already. I'm Camris Findlespur," the rosy-cheeked halfling says to the man at the door.

The skinny man whirls at the sound of the voice, wide eyes glancing right, then left. Then narrowing in confusion. Slowly he lowers his gaze.

"Ah. Hello." He says haltingly.

"Sorry. I,... didn't notice anyone approach." The skinny fellow glances upwards with a scowl. There is a soft sound that might be a high-pitched chuckle.

With a sniff he regathers his calm. He nods his head, his aristocratic upbringing clearly showing, although there is a merry twinkle in his eyes.

"Greeting Camris. I'm Slidell." He replies.


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}

The sharp-featured noble scion does not extend a hand in response. "I am Araxus Nestarsian. In whose household are you employed, Camris Findlespur?" he asks the halfling. Why would somebody send their slave to such a meeting?

I couldn't resist. Don't worry - Araxus will back off if shown the error of his ways.


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

"Oh, that's an easy mistake to make, Lord Araxus. My father was emancipated when his master died, so I've been a free halfling since I can remember. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Slidell."

Hee hee, that's perfectly understandable.


MWAH-HA-HAAA

A rangy woman in leather armor swings open the heavy alley door and waves everyone in, longsword bumping her leg as she ushers the group inside and closes the door again.

She nods and greets Camris with a warm smile and handshake. "Master Camris, please come in! It's good to see you here again. I had little doubt you would attend."

Her eyes flick to Araxus next as she extends a hand to him. "Master Nestarsian, welcome. You decided to risk this, hmm? I am glad! Enter. There's a warm fire, hot food, and cool ale for you. Or wine, if you prefer."

Her slanted green eyes study Slidell at last, with the scrutiny of one accustomed to sizing up people for a living. "Welcome! I am Janiven. You must be... let's see... Master Storm-Raven. Please come in and make yourself at home. We'll get started once the others arrive."

The tavern is spacious, yet somehow still cozy. It seems quite complete inside and there is little sign of renovation beyond mismatched draperies, deep red replacing the ragged blue checkered cloth on a few windows.

A long table is laid with place settings and a pot of stew simmers on a woodstove behind the bar. The smell of baking bread mingles with the stew, and shiny taps promise ale. It is easy to see why Visio's was so popular in its day, and a little more difficult to understand why it is not so right now.


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

Camris vigorously returns Janiven's handshake. "Lady Janiven, it is wonderful to see you too! Thank you for the food and drink. You've always been a gracious host."


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}

Is there anyone else in the tavern?

"Good day, Miss Lomiato," Araxus says formally.

Araxus regards Slidell carefully. "Have we met, Master Storm-Raven? You look familiar. At the library perhaps?"


MWAH-HA-HAAA

Only the four of you.

Janiven moves to the stove and pulls a tray of hot rolls from the baking side, bar towel in hand. She chisels them off the try and slides the results into a cloth-lined basket.

"I've no help for this evening, since it is a private meeting. Serve yourselves, or I'll get whatever it is you might like from the bar. We're awaiting two more."

She sets the basket on the table and carries the pan into a back room. "The nice thing about owning a place is leaving the washing-up for others. "

Dark Archive

Male Devil-Spawn Tiefling Witch 1

Amadeo walks toward the shuttered eatery, his dark cloak mantle over his horns and features. He fades into the background as the Hellknights ride past, waiting until they are well on their way before proceeding. He slides up to the side door that Rizzardo had mentioned and knocks upon it


MWAH-HA-HAAA

A gust of wind makes the tavern creak and whips Amadeo's cloak about his legs as tatters of parchment and papers swirl down the alleyway behind Visio's.

Inside, Janiven glides swiftly to the alley door as the knock sounds. She listens a moment, then swings it open, nodding at the newcomer and closing the door behind him.

"You must be Rizzardo's friend," she guesses, holding out a hand, "I'm Janiven and this is my place. Welcome, and make yourself at home. Help yourself to stew, bread, and any beverage you care for." She grins. "It's all for the renovation workmen, so I get to take it off my taxes. Eat up!"


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

Lady Janiven has assemble quite the group, and this new arrival seems quite mysterious Camris muses as Amadeo walks in.

"Greetings, I am Camris Findlespur, and may I introduce Slidell and Ariaxus Nestarsian." The halfling reaches his hand out in friendship.


Human

Outside the door

Slidell coughs gently to cover his chuckle at the aristocrat's mistake. He is saved from an immediate response by the opening of the alley door. As they enter, he swiftly sends a negative to Veran, indicating he should stay put and keep an eye out. He didn't know these people enough to trust them with all his secrets.

Once inside he gazes around, taking in the fact that the inn IS currently undergoing remodeling. So the sign out front was not simply a facade for this meeting. Interesting.

Janiven wrote:
Her slanted green eyes study Slidell at last, with the scrutiny of one accustomed to sizing up people for a living. "Welcome! I am Janiven. You must be... let's see... Master Storm-Raven. Please come in and make yourself at home. We'll get started once the others arrive."

Slidell raises an eyebrow, observing the lady even as she examines him.

Per: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"Indeed. Pleasure to meet you Janiven." He returns the handshake with polite firmness. He keeps his face neutral, but his eyes glint with mischief as he realizes that he just learned more from a glance and handshake about her than she knows about him.

Araxus wrote:
Araxus regards Slidell carefully. "Have we met, Master Storm-Raven? You look familiar. At the library perhaps?"

Slidell returns the look evenly, his hawk-like nose making it seem he is looking down his nose at the other man.

"Quite possibly. I do tend to spend a lot of quality time there. Are you studying at the University?" He inquires with a raised eyebrow.

He turns and glances at the doorway. A moment later there is a rap at the door and Janiven goes to answer it. He gives the ghost of a smile as teh newcomer entered, as if seeing what he expected.

Dark Archive

Male Devil-Spawn Tiefling Witch 1

Amadeo nods to Lady Janiven

"Thank you my lady. "

He removes his mantle, revealing a devilish countenance surrounded by coal-black curls

Camris Findlespur wrote:

Lady Janiven has assemble quite the group, and this new arrival seems quite mysterious Camris muses as Amadeo walks in.

"Greetings, I am Camris Findlespur, and may I introduce Slidell and Ariaxus Nestarsian." The halfling reaches his hand out in friendship.

Amadeo takes the small man's hand and shakes it

"Well met Ser Findlespur. I am Amadeo Pontillix, a son of the docks hereabouts "


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}
Slidell wrote:

Slidell returns the look evenly, his hawk-like nose making it seem he is looking down his nose at the other man.

"Quite possibly. I do tend to spend a lot of quality time there. Are you studying at the University?" He inquires with a raised eyebrow.

"I am not a student," Araxus says brusquely. "I do a great deal of research there."

He raises his eyebrow when Amadeo walks in. This is quite the motley crew. "How many are we expecting?" he asks Janiven.


MWAH-HA-HAAA

"One more, maybe. Of course, he may have decided not to join us, which is fine," Janiven scowls slightly at the back door, "Maybe we should proceed? Ah, no, there's food. Let's give him a few minutes more."


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

"This stew is delicious, Lady Janiven! It has just the right amount of rabbit."

Camris tries hard not to outright stare at Amadeo.


MWAH-HA-HAAA

Janiven chuckles. "It's nice to get out and hunt from time to time, and it keeps the food costs down, too. Glad you're enjoying it, Camris." She strides around the oddly empty tavern ensuring that the oil lamps are lit and a fire is burning for both light and warmth. The boarded-up windows let in no light and it is difficult to get a sense of what the time is in the absence of a view of the outer world.

"I said we'd be done before dusk, and we will. If this interests you to the point where you wish to stay later and talk things over with me or the rest of the group, there's no problem. We have a few bedrooms upstairs and the usual pallets down here for sleeping near the fire. Whatever you like."


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

A simple hired buggy stops on the street a short ways from Visio's. A man in a concealing cloak with the hood lazily draped on his head steps down and throws a coin to the driver. His cloak peeks open just a bit at this gesture; the sight of fine clothing tantalizing any who watch him closely. Was that perhaps the hilt of a rapier?

The man casually walks down the street and turns down the alley as if he does it every day. Nothing suspicious at all. Just a someone with a little wealth who was doing something clandestine that he wasn't trying to broadcast, but not necessarily hide. Anyone watching might assume it was a liaison or perhaps a shady deal. Such common events surely weren't worth even bothering to remember.

Not-worth-remembering Disguise: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

Damien's eyes traveled in every direction as he stepped off the buggy. Even as he flipped the coin to the driver, he was already turning his shoulder so the cloak would fall back forward and reveal little of the person beneath. He checked the corners and windows in view for flickers of movement to show someone was watching.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

He was hindered by the sheer number of them. So many surrounded him. He couldn't move his head too much or he would draw attention to himself trying to detect attention on himself. Damien smiled to himself at the irony. He chose to assume that whoever might be watching were going to be looking for shady actions.

Damien walked by the side door to Visio's exactly once to check the anything he could see around the back or end of the alley.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

He located a trash bin as if that had been his intent all along, and nonchalantly tossed something inside. Then he returned back down the alley, proceed to knock upon the door as casual and as cool as possible. Damien's eyes of course tracked the traffic crossing the alley opening back onto the street and took mental note of anyone peering curiously down. He had seen a group of Hellknights heading this way earlier. He would rather they not take notice on a return journey.

Rap, rap, rap!


MWAH-HA-HAAA

Spoiler:

1d20 ⇒ 7
Veran Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Damien:

Nobody stands out in the crowd of people who flow from the ferry through the streets past Visio's, but nobody appears to take particular notice. It's hard to see into nearby windows with the light reflecting from them and all.

Slidell:

Just before the rap on the door, Slidell gets an impression of curiosity and interest from his buddy on the roof outside.

Janiven frowns briefly, but hurries to the door and swings it open. "Ah, you did come. Step in so you don't draw attention, please," she says to the cloaked figure outside.

She closes the door behind the newcomer. "Please feel free to have some dinner and drink. Help yourself; we've all been having a quick bite before the meeting."

If you would, please take a moment to describe your character as he looks at this meeting at the beginning of your next post.


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}

Araxus has investigated the wine offerings in the tavern and chosen something suitably tasteful. He pours himself a generous portion and does not offer any to share.

When there is a knock on the door, he looks up with interest. The sudden movement causes a flurry of motion in one of his pockets, as his rat Negellus stirs. He quiets the rodent absentmindedly.


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

"Have you got a pet in your pocket, Lord Araxus? Oh, how I wish I had a chinchilla, or a pony."

Camris turns to the newcomer. "Hello, I'm Camris Findlespur. Pleased to meet you." Camris extends his hand towards Damien.


Human

Slidell removes his overcloak and drapes it over a chair, perching his wide-brimmed floppy hat atop it. He then goes to join the others in searching for food and drink. His clothes at first glance appear to be those of the newly named 'middle class', meaning well-to-do merchants or tradesmen, but not the aristocracy. However, any second glance reveals they are obviously custom made, of high quality fabric, in good repair, and too clean. This is more the outfit of one trying to blend in with the commoners on the street, but who has no idea how to do so.

Slidell happily helps himself to a heaping plate of sliced meat and vegetables, and bowl of stew. Where the skinny man intends to put it all is a good question. Although it could be he is starving. It certainly looks as if a good stiff breeze might blow him over.

He helps himself to a dark cider, raising an eyebrow at Araxus' choice of wine. Muttering something about 'having desert first', he seats himself at a table with the friendly halfling and rubs his hands together briskly in anticipation. He is halfway through his bowl of stew when he stops and glances at the alley door again. A moment later there are three raps on the door.

Slidell takes a moment to examine the newest arrival,...


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

The cloaked figure nods his head in greeting to Janiven. Damien attempts to be charming.

"I see I haven't missed the start of the dance. How kind of you to wait for me."

Damien sweeps into the room and looks around. His nondescript cloak billows slightly revealing the fine clothes underneath and a long rapier with a polished hilt. He makes no attempt to hide himself, nor does he take any effort to remove or undo the covering cloak.

Camris Findlespur wrote:
"Hello, I'm Camris Findlespur. Pleased to meet you."

Damien accepts the halfling's hand with an amused smile. "Hello there. I am Mysterio until trust is proven to be a meal we can all safely stomach."

Damien reaches beneath his cloak and produces a bottle of wine. "I brought my own, Mistress Janiven. Please do not be offended. At a gathering such as this, one can never know who has spiked the punch with a truth potion or worse."

His eyes dance across the room's other inhabitants. He attempts to commit all he sees to memory and recall the finer details. "Gentlemen," he says politely inclining his head.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Damien notices the wine glass in Araxus' hand. "Ah, another lover of the grape. Would you be interested in trying my vintage?" Damien holds up the bottle so the label may be seen. "It's a limited run from an estate in Ustalav that I have access to. I assure you before now, you have never known its like."

Bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

Damien strolls into the kitchen area and locates a bottle opener. Masterfully opening the wine with a gentle pop, he checks the cork for spoilage. Then he finds a clean glass, rinses it, and wipes it dry with his cloak. Only then does he sample the wine, nod, and pour a full glass. If his offer is accepted, Damien then does the same for Araxus or anyone else that seems interested.

Returning to the area where everyone has congregated, Damien finds a convenient seat and sips his wine waiting patiently to be engaged further or for Janiven to speak which ever comes first.


MWAH-HA-HAAA

Sense Motive DC 15:

Janiven has been growing anxious as the time wears on, and Mysterio didn't seem to be the person she was waiting for. When she finally speaks, it is somewhat reluctantly, as if she has been caught short.

The plates and bowls are emptied and cleared and everyone is into their after-dinner beverage of choice before Janiven rises to speak.

"Again, thank you all for agreeing to met with me here. I have chosen each of you for a singular reason. Everyone here, myself included, has suffered, whether we realize it or not. I have lived in Westcrown my whole life, and although I love this city, I must admit, as must you, that despite our peace and prosperity, we continue to suffer."

"Fear should not be an expected part of life, yet each night brings fear to our doorsteps. For thirty years, we have not dared to stir from our homes at night for fear of our lives. Yet nothing is done to protect the citizens from this menace."

"Certainly, the Dottari make their annual sweep through the city, ostensibly to clear the shadowbeasts. But does it do any good? No. It is a sham and a play meant to pacify the citizens. But we are not pacified. We want our nights back!"

She pauses a moment to collect herself, having become rather vehement toward the end of her speech, and to take a sip of water and clear her throat. She glances around the table, meeting each pair of eyes, looking for reaction, commentary, or questions.


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}

Sense Motive per GM post: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6 Nope.

Araxus smiles at the newcomer. "This wine is suitable. Perhaps another time I could share in your reserves."

As Janiven speaks, Araxus looks absentmindedly into his glass. "Before we go further," he speaks up, "I would like to know with whom I am speaking. Who are you, really, and what is your interest in this? I do not know many tavernkeeps who raise militias."


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

"Hello, Lord Mysterio. It is nice to meet you, and I can assure you that I am trustworthy, but I understand that I will have to prove that with my actions." Camris offers an innocent smile.


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

"Araxus, Lady Janiven has the interests of Westcrown's citizenry at heart. This may seem extreme, but, regrettably, this appears to be the only way to get rid of these shadowbeasts."


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

Damien takes special note of Janiven's anxiousness.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

Reaction to Sense Motive:
Interesting, he thinks. So she's either expecting more...or she's expecting more. He sips his wine hiding his look around at the room and begins to think about how isolated the room is from the outside. There would be almost no way to know if anyone was approaching or surrounding the building. Janiven's slight nervousness didn't help soothe Damien's paranoid and calculating thoughts. Perhaps time is shorter than I had hoped, and it would be well to hear her words and be on my way.

Damien speaks plainly. "This is the same as what you said to me when we first met. I assume the other others have heard the same rhetoric. However, I did not come here to waste time discussing that which is either self-evident or merely stated to be incendiary. You have suggested a possible solution or a path to one. This is what I want to hear about, not more grousing about the regime's intentional lack of interest in fixing this."

Damien wets his mouth with the wine glass. Glancing around the table, he supposes he may have been a tad presumptuous regarding the others.

"Forgive me. I do not mean to be rude, but I do not give my attention to insurgent and illegal meetings lightly. I would rather get to the point. All of us here are clearly already aware of the facts. Now tell us what it is we don't know that you do and what you are proposing."


MWAH-HA-HAAA

Janiven finishes her glass of wine while others talk and nods briefly.

"You are mistaken, Sir Mysterio, because I did not speak to everyone here yet. I wish to lay the groundwork for a mutual understanding before we proceed. Nobody should be here under false pretenses nor against their will. This is a risky business and it must be clear to all who agree to join just what is at stake."

She turns to address Araxus directly. "Why should I be interested? Why should I not? This city is my city as well as all of yours. It is in all of our interests to free it from this blanket of nocturnal terror. Many of you here have been abroad and seen how others live. Why should Westcrown be different?"

"And who am I? I am a daughter of Westcrown. My father was Rundottari, my mother a weaver - a gentle, loving soul, by all accounts. Yet when her time came to deliver me, it was dark and no help would brave the terrors of the night. By sun's rise, I had entered this world and become motherless, my father a widower. Should you doubt my credentials, inquire about me. I've done my share of adventuring and escorts and guarded many of our finest nobles from both the shadowbeasts and themselves. I am partner in this Inn, not a serving wench."

Eyes glinting dangerously, she returns her attention to Damien, struggling to keep her voice impassive.

"Illegal and insurgent, you say? But why should that be, hmm? Is it not the job - nay, the duty of a government to safeguard its people? Yes, the regime has kept war and famine at bay for seventy years - but safety and prosperity have been bought in the coinage of fear!"

"And so some of us band together to help ourselves, since no others will aid us - to free the nights of the shadowbeasts, discover their nature and source, and eliminate it! This is not sedition, it is self-defense, my friends."


Human

Sense Motive vs DM's DC:15 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

PER as well (If appropriate) 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Reaction to Sense Motive:

Spoiler:

Slidell observes Janiven as he finishes his stew. 'She seems,... tense? Perhaps. Nervous? maybe. Like she was expecting someone else. Hoping they would show up. Or perhaps, nervous that they might still show?' Slidell pauses after finishing his mug of dark cider, and sends an empathic burst to Veran. A sense of cautiousness, to let his familiar know to stay alert.

Slidell finishes his bowl of stew and drains his mug of dark cider. He closes his eyes for a moment and savors the afterbite.

He opens his eyes and grins at 'Mysterio'. "I'll sample your vintage Master Mysterio. You were kind enough to bring it, it would be rude not to accept a glass." he says with humor in his voice.

Slidell accepts the glass and samples it, nodding in approval after the taste. He then turns to pay attention to Janiven as she rises to speak.

"Your consideration for the citizenry does you credit master Camris. And I'm sure we all share that concern, to one degree or another. However, as Mysterio was kind enough to remind us, this meeting IS now, technically, bordering on the edge of 'illegal'. And thus on the edge of being brought to justice by the Hellknights." He says wryly, indicating with a look exactly what he thought of Hellknight 'justice'.

"And as rhetoric serves no purpose but to inflame, I can only surmise that you indeed brought us here for something more, productive? We are all aware of the problems. Do you, perchance, have a solution?" He inquires with a raised eyebrow.


Human

Ack! Ninjae'd by the DM! :)

Slidell watches Janiven over his steepled fingers as she continues, her passion becoming clearer as she explains. He also glances at the others, gauging their reactions.

"No offense meant, Miss Janiven. I am sorry for your pain. And for the pain of others who have all lost family or friends in the night. I am certain that all of us here have either lost someone or at least knows someone who has."
"I do not disagree with your intentions. I am merely curious as to what your solution is. Other than gathering a gaggle of like-minded individuals and patrolling the streets yourselves. My queries have indicated that such attempts have met with, less than resounding success."


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

Damien nods with a smile to Slidell at his acknowledgement of the wine and thoughts. He watches passively as Janiven's fiery passion escalates as expected. There now we have gotten that out of the way.

Waving a placating hand, Damien says, "Please gracious host, I do not attempt to suggest you have anything but the best interest of the city at heart." If there is a hint of mockery, it is just ever so subtle. "We all here have reasons to discuss an end to the nights of terror. I am merely wishing to spend less time waxing eloquent about our reasons for doing so and more time on how to go about it. Everyone showing up here suggests they are already willing to go the distance."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Damien leans back in his chair. "I mention the 'seditious' nature of our congregation not to incite your patriotism, but merely to ground this meeting in reality. If everyone here doesn't already know what they are getting in bed with, I would have it on the table legs up, so we know who is too afraid to get their sword wet." Damien chuckles at his crude turn of phrase. "Sorry for that, a cute expression I picked up in The Cader."


MWAH-HA-HAAA

"Willing, perhaps, but I want to ensure everyone knows what we are getting into. We've begun building a network of concerned citizens, organized into small cells - just in case. But it's become apparent that goodwill is not enough to fight the shadows. We need more skilled people to aid in the effort. That's where you folks come in."

"We have some information gathering in place already and contacts throughout Westcrown. But when it comes to actually fighting the beasts and getting to their source, we need strength of arms, magery, and scholarship - not to mention stealth and guile."

"We planned to start with some relatively small efforts. If we can capture or kill a beast, we'll know more of its nature. And, as I am certain you have heard, a dead shadowbeast is worth a thousand gold from Lady Bluehood's bounty - whoever she is. We would like to join forces with her, but it is unlikely we will learn her identity. It is enough that she is willing to pay to see the things wiped out. But that bounty will help fund our organization."

"Once we figure out where these things originate, we want to eliminate the source. Whatever that might be."

She leans forward and rests her fists on the table, gazing searchingly at each person's face.

"I am sure you have all heard rumors of various factions which might want Westcrown pacified. I am prepared to take the effort of freeing her to wherever it leads. Wherever. Do you understand what I say? I expect no less from you, the most skilled of our recruits. Are you prepared?"

Dark Archive

Male Devil-Spawn Tiefling Witch 1

Sense Motive w/unearth secrets trait 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Amadeo stays quiet, heading over to the food and helping himself to a large plate. He watches the interplay between the strangers, gauging them with his inscrutable ruby eyes. He draws an ale and sips as he methodically works his way through the plate of food.

I see a contentious time with this group,He thinks to himself, watching the finely-dressed Mysterio with slitted eyes. He notes their patron's nervousness, and he keeps an eye on the door in case the Dottari make an appearance.

Perception 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Amadeo unclasps his heavy cloak and drapes it on the bar chair near him. His clothes are well-made, but worn, and have several obvious patches to them. As he unclasps the black cloak his small monkey is revealed, its face a black and white patchwork of fur. The monkey shinnies down his arm and begins picking morsels of food of Amadeo's plate


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

"Wherever it leads..." Damien's eyes become clouded as he retreats into contemplation. His head bows slightly, and his cloak's hood falls more forward shading his eyes and nose leaving only his well-trimmed goatee and frowning mouth visible. The hand not holding the wine glass begins to stroke the goatee. After a moment of silence, a chuckle bubbles forth.

"And you wanted to dance around how similar sedition and self-defense really is in this city."

Damien laughs in earnest as the real discussion finally surfaces.


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}

Araxus has remained quiet. Janiven's story makes him pensive as conflicting urges compete within him. If I leave now, I can be blissfully stoned out of my wits by sundown. He resents that thought as soon as it enters his head.

At the bard's remark (Mysterio is such an absurd name) Araxus perks up. "Yes. No doubt we will be doing what the authorities will not, but do you expect them to stand in the way? If the Hellknights move to enforce the status quo, we five cannot stand against them. I'm all for a bit of excitement, but I am no fool."


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

Damien's laughter subsides as Araxus begins the opening move in the game they were really there to play. Damien decides to raise the hand early.

Setting his glass on the table, Damien looks at Janiven directly. "Allow me to say this. We are all in or all out. Frankly there is no in between on a venture like this. If anyone here balks, there is no way to trust that one not to open his mouth if something turns out to lead wherever." Damien pauses significantly.

"Unless we're all prepared to make cold feet disappear..."

At this Damien steeples his fingers and peers at each person in turn carefully trying to gauge any reactions to what he is suggesting.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12


Male Halfling Paladin 1 {Init +0, Perception +4, HP 10/10}

Camris stands. "I'll be honest—you folks wouldn't necessarily be my top choice for a venture like this, but I'm not the one gathering the team. I trust that Lady Janiven has assembled us based on what we offer, and I agree with Mysterio, although not for the same reasons of course, that it is vital that we work together. If one person cannot hold their weight, that will imperil all of us, so, yes, you need to be abolutely sure you want to do this." With that, he sighs and returns to his seat.


MWAH-HA-HAAA

Janiven gives an impatient shake of her head. "You think we just randomly pick people from the streets? Of course not! You're all here for a reason. You've been checked out, to some extent, and have expressed interest in freeing Westcrown of its nightly plague. Surely you all know the rumors of the beasts' origin? That they are here as tools of the Mayor or even the House of Thrune to keep Westcrown in its place."

"There may be something to that. Otherwise, why wouldn't Mayor Arvanxi do whatever was necessary to get rid of the things rather than letting his people suffer? Why not light all the streets so people may walk in some safety? 'Not enough Dottari'." She snorts. "The merchants and nobles of this city prosper, so its tax coffers must as well. And there are always the poor seeking work. They could find Dottari if they wanted."

"If you lack the kidney to do what must be done, then surely you can aid in eliminating some of these creatures and claiming the rewards. Then you can sit back and reap the benefits when they are gone. We can use people like that, too, though they will not be included in our deepest plans."

"Frankly, I had hoped for more from people as skilled as you."


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

"If you've done any investigating of the great Mysterio, then you know that this," Damien spreads his hands to indicate the current flow of conversation, "is where my skills lie. Thinking through everything, and covering myself and, by extension, my associates. I have already given you, Janiven, an indication as to why I feel I must attend your little party tonight. If everyone else cannot make the commitment you display, we are lost before we begin."

Damien regards everyone thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should make this clear. When it comes to commitment, I am the first and the last of you. I will put the resources I have to bear without question, without hesitation, without petty morality. Do I have more to bring than the rest of you? Possibly not. Will I bring everything within my reach and then some? Yes. My interest in this venture secures something for me I may not be able to obtain otherwise, but I will not risk it if the ability to commit to the path to Wherever is not unflinching. I am first only because once we drink from this cup, I will be there until the last drop has fallen to parched lips. I am last because if we cannot agree that this path is necessary for this city whatever the reason, then you shall not secure my assistance in seeing this dream become reality."

"I rejoice to have the topic at hand in discussion. Those who have the kidney," Damien chuckles, "need only speak now. If we have need to talk things out, then let us do so. Consider though that night approaches, and soon we will be sequestered no matter what we decide. And if we are not all committed...the night will be terribly long indeed. Horrors without and naught but suspicions within. The shadows of mortal hearts are sometimes much more terrifying than any beasts, in life or dreams."

Damien retrieves his wine glass and drinks a mouthful while waiting for the others to gather their thoughts and determine how they feel.

He looks to Janiven and says, "And while we wait for the others to decide if they will indeed get their swords wet, I do believe you have continuously avoided the question, what do you know that we do not? You propose we defeat a shadowbeast. Somehow I feel there is more to this 'simple' task you assign us. Is there a lead you have in this regard?"


Human

There is the sound of slow, deliberate clapping.

"Oh very nice. Very nice indeed. I wish you had some popped corn Miss Janiven. When I was invited to this little soiree, I wasn't told there'd be entertainment." Slidell intones wryly. Then he grins and leans forward eagerly.

"Well. At least we know what 'The Great Mysterio' brings to this endeavor. I have the gift of gab but YOU sir. YOU are truly a silver tongued devil. No offense Amadeo." He hastily adds with an embarrassed grin at the tiefling.

Slidell continues, bubbling with curiosity. "Are you perchance Bardic College trained? I've attended more operas and street fairs than I care to remember, and I don't think I've ever heard a better turn of phrase than you can come up with!"
He does a passable imitation of 'Mysterio's' voice, "'Prepared to make cold feet disappear', 'I am the first and the last of you', 'Horrors without and naught but suspicions within' Oh well done sir!" Slidell grins with a cheerfulness worthy of the halfling sitting next to him.

The slim young man's exposition is an almost complete change from his earlier behavior. Whereas before he was speaking like a cross between a pedantic schoolteacher and an aristocrat, he now seems as excitable as a school boy. The change is almost uncomfortable to observe, and yet slices through the previously building tension like a knife through butter.

"So, You bring your silver tongue, and presumably other skills to go along with it. Camris here is the shortest one of us, but his enthusiastic speech betrays his heart as being the largest of us all. Undoubtedly a ferocious protector when aroused. Amadeo, I haven't sussed out your skills yet, but you are from hereabouts, and bring an important knowledge of the area which suffers greater losses to the shadowbeasts than the richer parts of town, where they can afford their own protections. Araxus here studies at the University, and is likely a mage. Unless he is an historian, who enjoys reading fiction? Sorry, I meant 'The Official histories'?" He raises an eyebrow, saying what he thinks of 'The Official Histories'.

"And I myself am a mage of no small ability. Quite an eclectic, yet effective collaboration you've assembled here Janiven! Brains, Wits and brawn. All together to combat the menace of the shadowbeasts! A much brighter and grander scheme than what I was worried I would find." He declares smiling, leaning back to take another sip of 'Mysterio's' wine.

"Oh. I'm in, by the way." He adds, looking around seriously, (almost as if looking for something) "I wouldn't miss this for the world."


Male Human Conjurer (Infernal Binder) 1 {Init +2, HP 1/8, AC 12}

The conversation has taken a turn that Araxus finds unsettling. He came to hear out the proposal, and now he hears talk of silencing anyone who does not go along. He begins to fidget uncomfortably. A craving begins to stir for his beloved leaf. He tries to silence it with a deep gulp of the wine.

He remains quietly focused on Janiven, assessing how she responds to the bluster of the two more outspoken men. "Mysterio" raises a good question. What is the plan?


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

Damien's eyes jerk sharply to the suddenly talkative mage who accepted his wine. They narrow at first as Slidell mocks him, but as the man continues, Damien's features soften, and he smiles. He even twirls his hand before him with arm outstretched as a performer of the stage would, bowing in his seat in acknowledgement of Slidell's "appreciation" for Damien's skills.

If suffering a little humiliation was all that was required to see this endeavor succeed, then Damien had the patience to suffer with a smile on his face. It's not as if it would be any different than any other day, really. But now the rewards would be greater.

"I appreciate your endorsement, sir," Damien says. "I have no doubt I will continue to amuse you."

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Damien's usually keen eye fails to notice Araxus moving uneasily in his seat. He's much too focused on Slidell's sudden exuberance.


MWAH-HA-HAAA

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

Janiven stands with folded arms, listening quietly to the discussion and observing the reactions around the table without interjecting, a look of mild concern crossing her features from time to time. Finally, she holds up her hands for attention.

"My apologies; I am not the best public speaker. I expected another here tonight who could better explain. But here's the gist of what we're doing."

"We have small bands of concerned citizens who want to help free Westcrown from the tyrants of the dark. Their resources and abilities are limited, but their hearts are in the right place."

"What we need now is a core group of skilled fighters and mages. Winning battles against the shadowbeasts will win more and more support from the people. After all, Westcrown isn't only buildings and canals and docks and statues -- she is also her people! Westcrown is our friends and neighbors, our mothers and fathers, our siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters."

She paces as she warms to the topic, deep belief evident in every word, every kindled glance, every emphatic gesture.

"With but a small group of supporters and capable, dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of the people. Once we do that, petty bureaucracies and corrupt Dottari cannot touch us. We take back the nights, we win the hearts of the people, and Westcrown is free! Or at least one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!"

She stops suddenly, her words ringing in the near-empty tavern.

Dark Archive

Male Devil-Spawn Tiefling Witch 1

Amadeo winces at Janiven's words. He has spent his life trying to fly under the notice of the Dottari and politics. His heritage had assured that neither side particularly had wanted his help. But, things had been very slow as of late, and perhaps it was time to push back a bit.

"Lady Janiven. I for one am ready to rid our city of this plague. My only fear is that we will become the focus of both the Dottari and their masters should we succeed. The tall blade of grass is first to be mown, my gran used to say."

Amadeo pauses and gives Zebulon a slice of fruit

"However, I have lately been tired of slowly starving. If you have a scheme that is credible, I am yours to command."


6/9 Max | Init +1, Perception +5

Damien smiles at Janiven's brash and bold words. If there was any doubt what they were about before, there should be none now.

1 to 50 of 527 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | next > last >>
Community / Forums / Online Campaigns / Play-by-Post / Darkness: A Tale of Westcrown All Messageboards

Want to post a reply? Sign in.