| 6 people marked this as a favorite. |
The town of Longacre sits just outside the fringes of the Whisperwood. A few lights shine in the streets and windows, and the occasional snippet of conversation or laughter issues from open doors, but here on the outskirts of town, the night is quiet and dark. Sparse clouds scud across the sky, momentarily obscuring the dim light from the moon overhead. Across a scrubby field, barely distinguishable under the starry sky, a darkened, fortlike compound hunches in the distance.
Cimri points toward the dim structure. "That's it—Louslik Tannery. Here's the job: We break in, sack Ol' Louslik's office, take whatever's shiny, and get out before the sheriff shows up. If we get separated, meet back at the Ash House by dawn."
Dull moonlight glints across her dagger as she flicks it in emphasis. "If you get pinched, remember: you're mute. Keep your mouth shut, and I'll handle things. I got assurances that we won't take any blame if things go south. But get chatty and I'll let you rot." A beat passes and her usual crooked smirk appears. "If you don't screw things up, we'll all be drinking on Razelago's coin come dawn. Let's do this."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
“Darellus... Fex,” Justimar said outloud, emphasizing the first letter of the last name as he lay the spine of a thick tomb he “borrowed” from one of the family libraries onto the table, “Noble Houses of an Infernal Nation: The History and Standing of Chelish Elite.” It was one of countless books on Chelish Nobility, an older edition, bulkier than most, either spared or missed by the Order of the Rack in their many book burnings. Justimar pushed his black hair behind his ears and leaned forward in his chair. “Fex...”
Justimar split the book open, the worn pages naturally opening to the center. A family tree of House Leroung greeted him, but he had memorized these relations years ago. For years, he studied pages like these, committing everything to memory. Justimar’s name wasn’t in this edition of the book, but perhaps more recent ones do, or future ones will.
He turned the pages back, past the dozens of pages devoted to House Legarre, past the history of House Henderthane. “Fex...” Justimar repeated, searching for the name. “Why would he deflect a member of House Leroung...” He turns the page back, a dozen minor noble families turn with it, all paid no attention. “Was there a dispute with my house years back? Or is it me? But why would he avoid me...”
Justimar sighs. Cimri’s offer hung in the back of his mind. He closed the book, leaving it on the inn room’s table. He grabbed his coat, hung on the wall, and placed it over his shoulders. “I’ll be back within the hour. ” He removes two silvers from his bag, placing them on the table. He turns to his slave. “Vi, prepare what passes for a drink in this backwater city.” He buttons his coat, and exits the inn.
With his hand glowing from simple spell, and his mind racing on what this could , Justimar walked underneath the night sky, recounting everything Cimri promised. He cared not for the gold that Cimri offered, but a connection, especially one who knew the archbaron, could prove useful. He began to hum a delightful tune as he arrived at the inn he way staying at.
Over the next few days, Justimar eyed the tannery, though was unsure how to approach. Throughout the day, he would summon animals to infiltrate, if only to see what reaction those within its walls would have. He sent in an eagle first, directing it to soar over the walls. Next, he sent vipers, three over the course of the day, slipping them through the smallest cracks of the palisade. "If you see beasts, bite them." Justimar waited, listening for the sounds of dogs or horses within, ready to withdraw his summons at a moment's notice.
Justimar looked to his fellow compatriots. He suppressed the urge to introduce himself as he had learned to do in the noble courts. Let's see, he began, scanning the faces of those he'd be sharing the night with, an orc-ish brute and a pale foreign girl... He looked to Cimri, brining himself back to the scene before he could judge the others.. "Won't say a word. You certainly seem to have enough for all of us." Justimar grinned, tightening his hands on his bow. He was anxious, but tried not to show it.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
This new nation--this Cheliax--had simply been a delight. These people--they were so concerned with law they could not see the evil staring them in the face. It was in Longacre that Amatsu had decided to temporarily stay her wanderings--her funds, while not entirely gone, were beginning to run low, and to properly replenish them she was going to have to set up shop--which would take a considerable amount of coin on its own. Still, Longacre had proved rather conducive to her proclivities--she was as far as she could be from Minkai without taking a boat to Arcadia, and any strangeness could be write off as being the result of cultural misunderstanding.
The shop had been fairly successful--and had proven a rather convenient outlet for her--hobbies. She was rather fond of recommending bleeding--Avastanis all seemed to think that bleeding was a panacea for all ailments, and there was nothing more amusing that convincing some fool nobleman to let her run her knife across his arm and collect his blood in a bowl--if she twisted the knife just right the screams they would make were simply delightful. And what you could get a foreigner to do in the name of "treatments from Tian Xia" was simply astounding. Of course, she was skilled enough in her art--with the occasional help from dearest little Hime, her spider familiar, silently guiding her hand.
In recent weeks, Amatsu had found herself visited by a regular customer--though one who demurred receiving Amatsu's treatments and instead simply bought whatever herb she was looking for. Bitter orange was used to make perfumes--but was a rather potent poison, and easy to slip among its benign cousins. Heartleaf could clear the lungs--or stop the heart just as easily. Belladonna numbed pain--but it was called deadly nightshade for a reason. This young woman, Amatsu could tell, was planning something rather wicked. She was considering switching one of these poisons with an herb that was entirely mundane just for the potential diversion of foiling a poisoning and putting the poisoner in danger--when the woman had made her an offer. A robbery--on behalf of the government?
The tannery, Amatsu had found, was surrounded by a crude wooden palisade--probably for keeping out animals--regardless, it would be no difficult task for her to climb it. Amatsu placed a hand on one of the beams--and feeling Hime's legs tapping against her back, the spider guiding her without words--she began to climb up the palisade as easily as if--well, as if she was a spider.
"Wareware ga kyapucha sa rete iru baai, watashi wa gutaitekini anata ni subete no sekinin o haichi suru koto o kakunin shimasu" answered Amatsu to Cimri in her native tongue, with a slight smile and tight lipped laugh.
"What I mean to say is, we will be as silent as the void," says Amatsu, in an affected Minkain accent. Her Taldane was actually quite close to perfect--Minkai was, after all, the primary entry place for traders who came across the Crown of the World--but no need to let the Avistanis know that.
She looked over at the others the woman had brought--all men and all natives of Cheliax, it seemed. Flies to the spider, she was sure--flies to the spider.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
The woman, Cimri was her name, looked across the table at Arruk, and Arruk returned her stare, not blinking, holding it until the woman looked away, towards the barman who had introduced them an hour or so before. Cimri smiled a bit - a quick flash really - and the barman returned the gesture with the slightest nod.
Arruk had stopped here in Longacre, a flyspeck town in the logger’s opinion, merely to spend the night before setting out again in the morning for more opportune pastures. On a whim, Arruk asked the barkeep if there was anyone in town could use a little muscle. The logger was thinking maybe he’d pick up an odd job, shovel some hay, cut down some trees, but much to Arruk’s surprise, he’d ended up talking to this woman instead. Cimri obviously wasn’t a merchant or a farmer, and after a couple of beers, it came out - Cimri needed some help with a local tax evader, stealing back his stolen monies.
”So that’s it,” the woman said, raising her mug to take a sip of ale, her eyes back to staring intently into Arruk’s, the interview seemingly not over. ”You’re certainly scary-looking. But so what. There’s lots of folks are scary looking. What else can you offer?”
Arruk raised his hands to the tavern’s candlelight and flexed them, then cracked his knuckles. They were large hands, scarred, misshapen like the logger’s nose, with bent fingers and uneven knuckles. Hands that had taken - and given - punishment, many times over.
Arruk laid those hands, palms down, fingers splayed, on the table and leaned forward, staring back at Cimri, his breath coming out in a long wheezing huff before he spoke. ”I’m no carnival barker. Hands do my talkin’ for me. Youse need some information - like where the money is hidden, my hands’ll ask where. There any guards there? My hands’ll scare them away, or ‘talk’ them to sleep.”
Picking up his mug, Arruk drained it and slid it to the end of the table. ”Growin’ up, not being good with words, I learned to keep quiet and observe. I can sneak a bit, and am good at sussin’ folk out to boot.”
“And I got, what’s the word? I got tenacity. Ain’t never goin’ be a serf again. But mostly, you want me around for my hands, and I’m OK with that. Everyone’s got somethin’.”
Waving his hand at the bartender, Arruk held up two fingers, another round. He hoped he had the job...
---------
... Cimri leaned back and took another sip of her beer, offering Arruk a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Turned out Arruk had the job. Of course, the job was in some nebulous future time, but Cimri promised it would be worth it. "Just in the mean time, lie low, hang about town, maybe find some honest work until I get ahold of you." So that's what Arruk did.
---------
It was easy enough to find old ladies and retired veterans needed some wood chopped, a tree felled, groceries picked up, garden weeded, and so on. In the meantime, Arruk rented a boardinghouse room, dark and cramped, but its not like he needed the light anyways. Mostly, it was cheap, and that suited the logger just fine. There were plenty of nice folk in town, and Arruk did what Cimri suggested and kept his head down, all yes ma'am and no sir, until the sharp-tongued hellion darkened his doorway once again.
----------
Arruk spent a few days sneaking around the tannery, his armor hidden in the woods nearby. It was easy enough to do - no one wants to live too close to a tannery, and those that do rarely spend much time outside. From his hiding spots, Arruk looked for points of easy access, tried to note work schedules, and took note of any guards on the premises.
---------
The night was quiet and dark, loose clouds in the sky, darkening the dim light when they crossed over the moon. Not that it bothered the logger one bit. His eyes picked up the details around him easily enough, and darkness was better for hiding.
Arruk stretched and flexed his wrists. He knew why he was brought along - if things went south, someone would have to do the violence. And if he was the muscle, the others were probably those with more refined skills.
The dandy was likely the talker, possibly noble, perhaps here to add a level of legitimacy to this midnight raid. If possible, Arruk would let him do the talking before resorting his more visceral style of persuasion.
Arruk couldn't get the read on the wild-haired man. The logger would avoid him until he showed his purpose.
The one with the baggy clothes was the safe-cracker. No doubt there were tools of the trade hidden in those pockets.
There was a drayman, apparently, perhaps the getaway driver, though Arruk was not aware of any carriage nearby. The logger snarled. Cimri better not be keeping secrets...
And lastly, there was the woman, a foreigner from Minkai, could only be the owner of the apothecary Arruk passed by a few times. What was her purpose? Thinking back to the pulp novels his family store carried, tales of far-off lands, dashing swordsmen, busty maidens, mad scientists and exotic assassins, the logger hit on exactly who she must be. Ninja, no doubt. That suited Arruk just fine. Perched on the window seat of his family shop, thumbing through those cheap and tawdry novellas, family cat in his lap and warm sun coming through the windows, even as a young boy, Arruk always rooted for the villains.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Among the malefactors gathering outside of poor Ol' Louslik's establishment was an undernourished willow of a man known as Ryde. The slouch in his posture as he sat in the grassy knoll, looking out towards the Tannery, hid the considerable height of his gangling frame. The slight breeze tousled Ryde's unruly brunette hair enough to warrant the occasional running of fingers across his forehead.
Ryde took note of the various outlaws he'd be depending on tonight. The most prominent figure was that of the burly half-orc. As a black-market medic, Ryde loved people like him; the vast majority of Ryde's livelihood came from the pockets of punch-first-ask-questions-later types like him. The pale woman was another person of interest; Tian are rarities in Cheliax, much less Tian with connections in the Chelish government. One man was far too well-dressed for the occasion and the other two men were far too under-dressed for whatever occasion the well-dressed man had in mind.
By the time Ryde had gotten a read on the group, Cimri had taken the floor. Ryde felt no obligation to acknowledge the wretch leading the operation nor her warnings for the loose-lipped. Why convince someone that you can keep your mouth shut when you can just keep your mouth shut? Besides, if Ryde's presence really did put the success of the job at risk, her employer wouldn't have taken the substantial risks that come with buying Ryde's services.
The terms of this arrangement were made very clear. If Ryde insured the robbery's success and the satisfaction of the client, he would be one step closer to regaining what is rightfully his. In the days leading up to the gathering at the grassy knoll, Ryze asked the residents of Longacre to give details on the tannery. After all, what kind of neighbor wouldn't introduce their town to a new bright-eyed silver-tongued resident?
The hard toil needed for tanning work left little time to glance up and notice a wayward eagle soaring overhead, eyeing the workers below. As the fiendish bird circled the establishment, no reaction could be heard from those within the walled compound. A bout of loud barking accompanied the arrival of a dangerous-looking viper later in the day, however, followed by a hiss and a yelp of pain from the canine.
After the second and third snakes were spotted, the workers decided there was a nest of the damn things somewhere nearby. "Abbie bit one of 'em earlier in the day after it bit 'er, but it looks like it got away," one worker remarked to another. Justimar can't help but wonder if the name 'Abbie' has anything to do with a certain Imperial Magistrix by the same name.
--
Under cover of darkness and silent as a creeping spider, Amatsu was able to get a clear view of the tannery workyard. Beyond the wall, the glow of two lanters revealed that the tannery was mostly empty, save for a large dog dozing near the office's door, a fresh bandage covering a wound on its neck - possibly the bite of some venomous animal. Aside from the one canine on watch, the terrible stench was the business's most memorable feature.
--
It wasn't difficult for Arruk to stay out of sight as he sized the place up. Wild animals seemed to be the chief reason for the high walls, as he didn't spot any guards posted or a watch being kept. Creeping around the back near the beamhouse, he noticed a section of the palisade which had been damaged - creating an out-of-sight way to squeeze inside the walls, with some effort. A halfling could fit through with no trouble, but it'd be impossible for an ogre to make it, he realized.
--
"Looking for work, friend?" a cheerful local asked Ryde when questioned about the tannery. "There's always work at the Tannery. Ol' Louslik employs half the town it seems. 's not glamorous, but it's honest work and honest pay. Y'know, they might need another hand on the night crew. The Umbres - Shaul and his wife Pippa - they're gettin' on in years and they do most o' the work there after the sun gets down."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"A matter to be addressed," Justimar whispered, looking towards his new allies, "are the hounds they keep within." The noble could hardly see in the darkness, and didn't conjure a light in fear of giving away their surprise. "We'll need to take care of any lest we lose our clandestine nature. I'd rather not get bit as well." Justimar looked at the group, searching for the strongest among them. Merely for their race's tendencies, Justimar's gaze ended when it reached Arruk.
"Orc-boy. A quarter of my share if you ensure I am not so much as touched, understand?" Justimar ran is fingers through his hair, and buttoned up his coat for a bit of warmth. He warily eyed his compatriots. He trusted them just a bit more than he did Cimri, which was to say, not in the slightest.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Arruk snorts, a deep, toothy expression of mirth, a little bit of drool running down the right side of his face. "Name's Arruk. Arruk Karras. And my parents, and theirs before them, are born Chels just the same as yours, I'd wager."
Shrugging, Arruk continues, a smile spreading slowly across his visage, as he runs a large, misshapen hand across his jaw. "But no worries, mate. A quarter share is more than fair enough to keep the hound's fangs from those fancy clothes. And we may be able to avoid them altogether, besides. There's a section of the palisade around back by the beamhouse is damaged. Should be easy enough to squeeze through, though take mind of your finery, friend. My quarter-share is no guarantee against fenceposts."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
"Dogs--or dog? I saw only one. Poor little creature--something has injured it. Perhaps they are beating the poor creature. A little bit of food--the beast will be calm--it will do us no harm," hums Amatsu at the well dressed man's mention of the hounds. A little bit of food, laced with poison and broken glass--to ensure the poison properly enters the bloods, of course.
"Oh, forgive me! My name is Amatsu Mi," she says, taking a short bow that would've been barely sufficient to give to a servant back in Minkai. The man was a noble--Amatsu could tell by the clothes he was wearing and the way he was ordering around the--she couldn't tell what the man called Arruk was, he looked a bit like an oni--an orc, the noble had called him. She wondered what a noble was doing indulging in burglarly--he didn't seem particularly happy to be among them. "I am surprised that one of your stature would even deem to enter such a low place. A tannery--it is unclean. The stench is--nearly unbearable."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Justimar Leroung," the noble began with a grin, searching the woman's face for recognition of his name. The smile faded. "Of the House Leroung," he emphasized. Again he waited. "I'll hold the lecture it sounds as though you so dearly require. To abridge the lesson, I am nobility. You'll learn well following my example."
Justimar looked towards the tannery. It couldn't be worse than home. He had memories of Westcrown, the smell of decaying fish from the wharf trailed into the household by his father. Justimar and his siblings woke each morning smelling the rotten fish. Ten children and two adults packed into two small cots like tinned anchovies. He shook away the memory. "Yes, yes, a shared surprise, little Amatsu. A single hound to my knowledge, manageable, but able to alert the complex. Disposing of her should be our first priority."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Five uneventful days of travel on the dusty road from Egorian to Longacre had tarnished the carriage. Much of the once pristinely polished timber had taken on a matte lifelessness; a wheel had lost a spoke and ran unevenly across the lonesome road, bumping with every turn; the team was covered in a layer of sweaty dust, tails wagging mindlessly at flies much more aggressive than their city kin. But this exhausted little expedition trekked ever on, carrying the most precious of cargo of all: a sense of purpose, a shred of hope, and a flicker of excitement. In short, the beginning of an adventure.
For the first time, Vance could see the elusive light at the end of the tunnel. Not just because Longacre was finally visible on the horizon, but because of the prospects the small town promised. The imp had been vague, even moreso than was usual, but there were unmistakable hints at fortune in the future. So long as he served. Vance was used to serving. As a coachman, it could indeed be summed up as the purpose of his profession – and Vance resented it. Nobility, and other wealthy patrons, constantly attempting to frame him to further their own plots, treating him as no more than a collateral pawn in their games; the arrogance and the haughty attitudes of those that believed themselves better than him; and the complete disregard with which they treated him. One day, he would serve no more.
Before reaching Longacre, Vance changed from his dirty travel clothes to his proper coachman's dress. His new clothing clean, fitted and well cared for; his sturdy boots of varisian aurochs leather always freshly shined; a great and well-groomed beard braided from the chin down covered half his face, and a widebrimmed, feathered hat covered his short, military-fashion haircut; a loose cotton coat covering a simple white shirt giving him a stately and official look, even with his unorthodox kaleidoscopic scarf. After all, he would have to look his best to find a proper artisan to fix his beloved carriage. He would attract no decent patronage in its current state.
While waiting for his carriage to be properly conditioned, Vance spends the day looking for a hotel or an inn to keep his belongings, and attempts to learn more about Longacre and the task at hand.
Silent throughout the exchange until introductions, Vance bows low in the typical Egorian fashion – but with a small Varisian flourish – as he takes on the role of a man born to serve.
"It is an honor to make your acquaintances, sirs. Madams. Vance Magravi at your service. Still bowing, Vance speaks silently and with a varisian accent. Unlike his coachman's garb, his current attire is much simpler: a dark blouse and trousers with a veil covering his beard and a mask covering the rest of his face. A single sword hangs at his hip.
"What do you propose we do about the dog then, sir?" he adresses Justimar.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
A Leroung, eh? Things just got much more interesting. Arruk chuckled again, long and low, and opened his great tusked mouth to speak when the swordsman opened piped up first. Not waiting for the noble to answer, Arruk said the first thing that came to mind.
"I'm all for feeding it and lulling it to sleep, but dogs sleep anyways at night. A good guard dog'll still wake if you get too close, but perhaps we don't need to? Anyone a crack shot with a bow or a crossbow? Me, I'm better up close, and if it comes to it, I'll quiet the cur quick enough."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Sir," Justimar thought with a smile as Vance addressed him, there is promise for this band of brigands yet. The noble waited for Arruk to speak, assuming the Orc would likely have a better solution for disposing of life than he would. "We don't need the pup silenced, we need it silent. A single yip and all are on alert." he interfered. "A quick volley of arrows would provide a solution. Another idea, listen for a moment, Magravi," Justimar brought a hand to his chest, "I fancy myself a bit of a conjurer. Both man and beast alike answer to power. Animals," he continued, briefly looking to Arruk, "and men like animals, believe this power to be force and domination. I dread to think if all men followed these rules, lest I'd be following some brute's orders."
"Back to the point: No matter how fierce the hound they have inside is, I can call forth one stronger. No matter how many they have, I have countless more to retain order. Either their hounds will observe and obey my servants, or," he smiles, revealing a Cheshire-like grin in the moonlight, "submit to them. Let dogs dabble in the affairs of dogs, for I at least am certainly above it."
Arruk laughs, a long low and off-putting rumble, like thunder on the horizon. "Aye, us animals believe in the power of violence. Dress it up in all the finery you want, nobleman, but at the end of the day, its violence - starting with the threat of it, and ending with the act itself - what keeps you in your manors and manners."
"But back to the point, King of Hounds. I'd like to see these dogs of yours in action."
"So," Cimri interjected, "What's the plan then? I was thinkin' we just pop the gate open, knock out anybody we see, and grab whatever coin he's got holed up in there. A gap in the fence seems easier though - an' quieter. We doin' this?" Cimri gently slapped a leather sap into the palm of her hand. She seemed willing to defer to the others' judgment, not having much of a plan of her own. "Whatever we decide - it's go time."
Creeping near the wall, the band of would-be robbers can hear little sound from within. All seems quiet at the tannery as they plan their entrance. The stench of the revolting process is omnipresent around the compound.
Amatsu smiles at Cimri's words, turning to the fence impeding their entry. While she was quite fond of climbing, the darkness of night would make scaling the fence a bit too difficult--and leaving the rest of the rogue's gallery alone on the ground might prove--inopportune, if she was spotted.
So she steps towards the gap in the wall and squeezes herself through it--her body is so small that it is easy for her, though she still contorts her arms and legs in strange ways--the others can see her bones peeking through the hem of her dress--she smiles back at any who look at her oddly, just as she pops through the gap and into the tannery.
Nothing stirs as Amatsu slips through the opening. From where she is now, she has a clear view of the tannery yard. Crouching by the wall of the loghouse, hidden in shadow, she can see the dog she spotted last time curled up on the stoop of a small wooden building, apparently dozing.
Cimri followed Amatsu without a word, sap drawn. She flattened herself against the outer wall as the others filed in behind her.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Arruk squeezes through the hole in the palisade, and then does his best to help the others through. His rough and gnarled hands are little help however, being better suited to work as hammers than as lockpicks. More than one of his companions feels a bit of pain as the logger pulls them through the opening.
Once through, he stays close to the nobleman, Arruk intent on winning his quarter-share.
Arruk sneaked through quietly, but his attempts to help the others ended up getting in the way rather than assisting.
Justimar looked at the high walls meant to keep animals out. He waited for the three ahead of him to get into the complex, before turning and nodding at Vance. Justimar grabbed his coat, pulled it close to his person, and was careful to not make a sound as he passed through the hole in the wall.
Justimar almost shot a harsh whisper to Arruk for "helping" to pull him through, but stopped when he spotted the dog. He breathed in, collected himself, and forced a smile at the half-orc logger. He gripped his bow, drew an arrow, and nodded towards the dog as to stay silent.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
As the others slip through the hole in the wall, Amatsu dances towards the dog, drawing her crossbow as she does. Though her steps are erratic and her path is uneven, she is still as quiet as the void, just as she promised Cimri. When she reaches the canine, she presses her bow against its neck before pulling the trigger, sending the crossbow through its jugular artery and blood spraying across the ground.
[dice=Perception ("Abbie")]1d20+8[/dice]
[dice=Fort Save ("Abbie")]1d20+5-1[/dice]
Already wounded and suffering from conjured snake venom, the dog dies silently, never waking as Amatsu crept up to it. Had the tannery's ever-present stench not dulled its senses, it almost certainly would have smelled her approach, but the foul environs worked to her advantage, and her ambush went off without a hitch. The loud *THOK* of the crossbow's firing, however, was audible throughout the workyard.
From the other side of the wall next to her, Amatsu hears a chair slide back and the clatter of animal toenails on a wood floor, followed quickly by a short bark. "What 'n the hell?" a deep male voice says, followed by a clunk of wood on wood.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Cursing under breath, Amatsu aims her crossbow in the direction of the door the voice was coming from while beginning to chant quietly to herself. It is not common she is speaking, but it is not the language she spoke before--it is far harsher and more guttural, the words interspersed with strange clicking sounds, almost as if it is not a language but the sound some horrible creature makes before the kill.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Best way to keep his extra share is to take the person behind the door down quick, Arruk reasons, and runs for the other side of the door. Flattening against the wall, he waits, and shoots Amatsu a sideways look as she starts chanting something fiercly creepy. Not a ninja. NOT a ninja.
Low, almost a whisper, he hisses across the doorway, "Alive, if possible. They can't be good future taxpayers to the Empire if they're dead, yeah?"
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Justimar shook his head. Wonderful. He pushed past Cimri, placing a hand on her shoulder as he passed her. "Great little gang you put together." He pressed himself to the wall, He raised a hand by his collar and snapped his fingers.
In front of Justimar, a three foot diameter runic circle came into existence, hovering a foot or so off the ground, in front of Justimar. The circle had a pale shimmering about it, the edges of the shapes dimly glowing. The inside of the circle turned milky gold as a black paw emerged, followed by a second. A dog’s head came through, a proud snout colored black and brown, with pointed ears. The hound put its feet to the ground, and pulled the rest of the body through the summoning circle. It was a doberman, with short black tame hair, and brown markings along its belly, identical on both of its sides. The circle faded, and the hound looked towards Justimar with a blank stare.
“My servant,” he ordered, “You are to assist the orc. His orders are mine, and my orders are supreme. Understand?” The hound brings a foot up and down as if to acknowledge the summoner. “Then serve.” The dog dashes to the other side of the door, remaining vigilant , awaiting those to exit the building.
Resolute: Gains darkvision 60 ft. Gains energy resistance (Acid/Cold/Fire 5). Gains SR 5. Smite chaos 1/day as a swift action (adds Cha bonus to attack rolls and damage bonus equal to HD against chaotic foes; smite persists until the target is dead or the resolute creature rests).
The sound of a crossbow being loaded can be heard inside, and some footsteps, but no one emerges from the tannery office.
Cimri stealthily creeps forward around the small office, and peeks into the window. "Louslik. Crossbow," she mouths silently, as Arruk glances back at her. She peers down toward the floor through the window. "Bulldog," she mouths as well.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Vance follows swiftly, Almost stepping on the half-orc's fingers in the process.
Upon Cimri's mouthed words, Vance walks up to the door, "Stand down Louslik, you're surrounded. You know why we're here, but there's no need for you to be hurt. Let's be civil, yes?" Accentuated by the audible sheathing of his sword, Vance's accent gives the threat a savage authority.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
There is no noise from within the office. Cimri peeks her head to look through the window again, and meets Vance's gaze. She pantomimes aiming a crossbow, jerking her head toward the window. Ducking below the sill, she swings her sap up to rap against the glass. A startled cry of "Yeargh!" is heard from inside as a crossbow bolt whizzes through the window, shattering the glass and sending shards flying out over Cimri's head.
That's enough for Vance to know the man's not going to come quietly, and with a firm boot to the door, he smashes the wood off the lock and the door swings inward.
From the darkness inside lunges a snarling, snapping bulldog. Its sharp jaws snap onto Vance's ankle and latches on , though he dislodges the animal with a swift kick to the neck.
A startled Louslik is visible behind the dog, having just shot out his own window at Cimri's distraction. Fumbling for a crossbow bolt, he reloads his weapon with a furious grimace as he snaps, "Get off my property, you thievin' bastards!"
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
As Amatsu finishes her spell, the shadows behind Louslik and his dog coalesces, forming a patch of darkness in the shape of a spider--and then the darkness bursts open, and a monstrous spider crawls out of the shades, a creature so pale and white you can almost see through its caparace; it is a spider, but not quite--it has far too many legs, jointed in too many place, and eyes, burning red and staring out from not just its head but its body and limbs, even for an arachnid, and a what appears to be a second mouth just below its mandible--which is open wide and dripping with venom. The thing hisses at the dog before springing forward at it, it's jaws open wide, ready to poison the creature for its next meal.
"Kamu kamu kamu, sukoshi Yūrei," says Amatsu with the slightest hint of a smile, before looking past the dog and locking eyes with the tanner. The smile stops being a hint and she opens her mouth so wide it almost seems that the top of her head and jaw are about to split in two--a silent scream echoes out from her--silent, that is, to everyone except for Louslik.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
[dice=Fort ("Archie")]1d20+4[/dice]
The spider's fangs sink into the dog's flank, ripping more than biting as it savagely opens a wide gash across the canine's back. The fiendish venom courses through the animal's veins, even as the spider already begins to slip back into the shadows which so horrifically birthed it into the darkened office.
As silent as Amatsu's wordless scream is to the others, to Louslik it is excruciating. He doubles over in pain as his vision blurs - it's all he can do to cling to the crossbow in his hands, let alone aim it at the blurry shape kicking down his door.
Cursing, Arruk pushes into the building and then skirts the wall around the dog, moving to the back of the room, hopping a chair and pushing another out of the way as he goes.
"Put the squirrel shooter down, Louslik, before you get me to get yourself hurt!"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Justimar peeked the corner, mildly shocked upon seeing Amatsu's silent roar. With Vance in the door, the noble stood still, bow in hand. After Arruk ran inside, Justimar looked to his nearby summoned creature, and whispered harshly. "Servant, hold for an opening. Let no one pass."
The agent of order barked in recognition. Justimar grinned. Lovely when they heed their master. He drew an arrow, nocked it, and prepared to fire at any threats who came from the eastern buildings.
5ft step to cover door if Vance moves, bite any enemy who approaches
Stepping over the dog is effortless for the muscular brawler, and he makes it inside the small office no worse for the wear. Even if Louslik could have attacked, the pain from Amatsu's spell is too much, and he can barely stand.
Cimri creeps closer, drawing a long, curved knife in an underhand grip. The dog spots her coming, but it's too late. The blade buries itself in the dog's skull and the animal drops to the ground, overcome by the spider and the knife-wielding rogue.
Despite the spell and the threats, Louslik clings to his crossbow like a lifeline, futilely struggling to aim it at the intruders.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
The spider clings to the dying hound with fierce tenacity even as the shadows begin to pull it back in once more. Fiendish claws clatter and scrape across the wood floor, gouging long marks in the smooth planks as the horrific arachnid is dragged against its will back into whatever horror-scape spawned it into the tannery office. The dog's body leaves a long, wet stain against the planks as it is dragged along, stopping only when the last of the spider's legs is sucked back into the void and it is torn violently free of its catch.
"Thieves?! Who's the thief here, Louslik?! Thunder, you knew this day was coming when you stole from her Infernal Majestrix, or you're as naïve as you are foolish!" Vance steps properly inside and swipes at Louslik's crossbow, his anger palpable as a storm in the air.
"Calm yourself, Vance. Allow me." Justimar walked, strutted really, into the office. He walked past the torn-apart mutt, and took a seat beside the man. He stared at Jabral, waiting until eye contact was made before continuing. "Jabral. You'll do well to answer me, as, I am sure you've noticed, my associates are less diplomatic. We are here to reclaim the gold you owe in taxes." Justimar paused, "and interest. Direct us to what you have, or the Orc-boy does the talking. And he speaks in clenched fists, I'm afraid. "
Afterward, Justimar gives a quick look to his dog. "Come, Servant. Attack should he act out of line."
The dog enters the house, stopping over Archie, standing proudly over it beside their summoner. The lawful hound eyes the Jabral with intent, waiting for the man to move, still as the dead dog beneath it.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Arruk twists his wrists, balls his fists. "Keep your eye on the cur, Louslik. You'll get no guff from me if you play along. But that dog..."
As her spells end, Amatsu dances past the door into the building, joining the circle around the dazed craftsman. Arming her crossbow, she aims it at the man's chest before speaking.
"Come, Louslik-san. Be reasonable. You are outnumbered and outarmed. And my crossbow is aimed directly at your liver. My finger grows tired--wait any longer and it might slip."
Surrounded, unarmed, and out of options, Jabral Louslik glares at Justimar, literally shaking with rage. "This is how the Archbaron's thugs work now? No warrant, no warning, just kill a man's dogs and break into his business?" He looks perilously close to taking a swing at the nobleman, but barely controls himself. "I don't know what riches you think I'm hiding in here, but unless the Archbaron wants to sieze my whole damned business and run it hisself, I've no gold for you to come and take." He glares at each of the people in his office. "You know as well as I do that this ain't no legal tax collection neither. You'd best clear out before the Sheriff comes - I heard you sneakin' in and sent the night manager to fetch her and her deputies earlier."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Master Louislik, you were sound asleep when we came in, so unless you sleeptalk, I doubt you told anyone to get the sheriff. And we've been told different than ya, 'bout your back taxes. In the interest of not risking anyone's displeasure - 'cept yours, of course - we're going to have to verify your claims."
Reaching out, Arruk grabs the tanner's desk in one giant hand and nonchalantly tips the desk on its back. Giving Louslik a toothy grin, Arruk crowds into the tanner's space.
"Maybe someone should get a good vantage point. We can be out the back before the sheriff ever reaches us. If the tanner's even telling the truth. Should be plenty of time to ransack this place, at any rate."
Arruk stretches and flexes his fists, towering over Louslik, before the logger leans down until the men are face to face.
"And if you're lying, best come clean now. You'll get out of this without a beating. But if you're caught lying..."
Arruk places a hand on the man's neck and leaves it for a full minute, the orc staring into the Louslik's eyes, before turning and starting a search of the desk and its spilled contents.
Her crossbow still in hand and still aimed at the approximate location of Louslik's liver, Amatsu, casually circles the man as Arruk begins to rummage through the contents of his overturned desk.
"Mister Louslik--you are hurt. Please, allow me to attend to your wound," she says, stepping forward, touching her fingernails to his back--just for a moment--and her magic flows through him. His injuries are healed--but first, he relives them all, one by one, as Amatsu presses her longest nail into the back of his neck.
"There is a nerve, just below your neck--it is where pain is said to flow from the body to the soul. All it takes is the slightest twist--and memory flows like water. We can relive the past few moments with you, if that is what you wish. Or you can tell us where your funds are. Even if you are running this tannery at a loss, you still must have coin to operate at all."
As the desk crashes to the floor, papers and parchments fly everywhere across the small office. An inkwell splashes across the fallen documents, spreading out over the papers. Beneath the desk is a sturdy-looking wooden lockbox.
Louslik's eyes dart to the chest before looking back at Arruk, hatred burning in his gaze. "Damn you Thrune pigs," he curses. "You won't get away with this forever." He shivers in discomfort and fear as Amatsu heals him.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Choose your words carefully, Louslik. Treasonous talk such as that may land you in a whole different sort of trouble." Still fuming, Vance sheathes his sword once more as he casually inspects the office. He is particularly insterested in the documents flying about, and hopes to catch a glimpse of any official seals or marks related thereto.
"Truly, I am sorry for the loss of your dogs. However, I cannot help but notice that you failed to answer the lady's query." He casts a perfunctory glance first to the lacerated bulldog, then to Amatsu, and, unwittingly and unnoticed, shudders.
When Jabral mentioned the archbaron, Justimar attempted to hide his surprise. His mind raced. Darellus is involved? Was this all an elaborate ruse? Have I been played? He lets the half-orc handle their captive.
Justimar looked to his hound as a runic portal appeared below it. The dog began to shimmer palely, before turning somewhat translucent. "Well served. You are dismissed." The hound yips as the summoning circle briefly surges. The dog disappears, and the circle shrinks to a fine, bright point before winking out of existence.
Justimar turned back. "I think he chose his words rather keenly, friend. Pig is such a nasty word, Jabral. Her Infernal Majestrix would much prefer you call us devils, I am certain." Justimar rises to his feet. "Speaking of nasty words: We will do no such 'ransacking.' I am no thug, mind you." Justimar tightened his jacket, turning to the door.
The summoner flicked his fingers. Once more, a portal appeared, suspended six feet in the air, surface parallel to the ground, with a different design than the last. He held his hand out, and from the symbol emerged an auburn eagle. Its eyes were gold like its beak and talons. On its wings, each and every feather ended with identical white markings. The bird landed upon Justimar's arm.
"Servant. Patrol the area. Do not engage in foes, merely call out for your master if you spot them."
The eagle takes to the skies.
Resolute: Gains darkvision 60 ft. Gains energy resistance (Acid/Cold/Fire 5). Gains SR 5. Smite chaos 1/day as a swift action (adds Cha bonus to attack rolls and damage bonus equal to HD against chaotic foes; smite persists until the target is dead or the resolute creature rests).
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Vance:
Disappointingly, the papers involve only the ordinary, run-of the mill business of operating a tannery - payroll, orders for materials, records of trades with hunters and trappers for skins.
Cimri kneels down next to the lockbox as Vance inspects the papers. Before the tanner can answer Amatsu, Crimri snaps her fingers at him. "Keys, Louslik." Not waiting for an answer, she steps forward, rifling through his pockets. His startled gesture is stopped quickly at a gentle squeeze from Arruk's massive hands, and the rogue produces a small keyring a moment later.
"Now we see who's lying," she says with a smirk. Sliding a key into the lock, Cimri lifts the lid of the lockbox. Its contents are divided into numerous small leather purses (each branded prominently with the initials "L. T."), which Cimri quickly checks, spilling a heaping handful of gleaming silver coins into her palm. "Jackpot," she says, her face lighting up at the sight of Louslik's sizable holdings.
It's at that moment that a loud, piercing eagle's screech can be heard from outside, and all eyes snap towards the window. The rumble of a cart plodding down a dirt road can be heard in the momentary silence that follows. "Arruk, can you carry this?" Cimri says, tossing the coins back into the box and shutting the lid.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Upon hearing the eagle's cry, Amatsu gives the room one more perfunctory look over, this time activating her magic as she does, before turning to leave the room. As she does, she touches Arruk on the arm, just for a second.
"It is time for us to fly, less we become trapped in another spider's web," she says, glancing back at the others and then looking at Louslik.
"One might want to hit that one over the head before we do, though," she whispers, her voice only audible to Arruk. "Lest he try and warn the sheriff of our escape."
Amatsu heads to the hole in the wall where they initially made their entrance, wriggling through the gap just as she did when they first arrived. Once she passes through it, though, she does not immediately start to run; instead, she summons up her magic, and four ghostly green lights spring out from her hand, circling around her--but slowly their light shifts, becoming a more comforting dull yellow, like that of lanterns or torches, and they descend to a few feet off the ground, lining up in a row. The lights then march northwest, shaking as if they had hands carrying them along--and only then does Amatsu flee into the darkness.