It's a Long Way to the Top - Hell's Vengeance (Inactive)

Game Master Leedwashere

Timer: 2d4 ⇒ (1, 4) = 5
Cimri Disable: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

During the thirty seconds or so it takes Amanda to pick one of the locks on the two pillories, Muziel searches the interior of the jail. He finds three locked cabinets at various points around the main office room, as well as an additional locked strongbox behind the sheriff's desk labeled "contraband." On the sheriff's desk itself are the sheriff's vest of office, ebony-handled longsword of office, and, finally, a ring of unlabeled keys.

"Dang," says Cimri as she struggles with the second lock, ultimately failing in her attempt. "Seems another one of you is beating me at my own game. Gluttony's a better slacker and Pride's a better lock-picker." She looks chagrined for a moment before her usual smirk emerges once again. "Good thing I'm still the best looking one in this bunch!"

Lust perks up Should we have a contest on that one, love? Probably be a bit of fun at least, no matter the outcome.

Amanda shrugs and says, "Well its good practice to put one's skills and proficiency to use. One could call me a "Professional troubleshooter" as one of my labels."

Amanda shrugs and says, "Well its good practice to put one's skills and proficiency to use. One could call me a "Professional troubleshooter" as one of my labels. As for looks, they don't open up locks now do they?"

Nikolai isn't there, but if he was he would suggest Darla is an Android that has blown a fuse and is repeating itself.

Muziel comes back jangling the keys. "Let's try a few of these," he says, seeing if they'll work to lock and unlock the stocks. Once that's sorted out, he'll take the remaining keys and see if they'll unlock some of the locked chests and contraband.

At the mention of a contest, Ismene snorts. "Maybe we should let Kels judge. That would be almost as bad as whatever Darla has planned for him."

At the Jail:

Muziel discovers that none of the keys on the ring fit the remaining locked pillory. While the others discuss contests, he returns to try unlocking the cabinets and strongbox, having much more luck in there.

"Looks may not open locks, but if you find the right people they can get other people to open them for you," observes Cimri, sagely. "How wouldja make a contest out of that, anyway? Competitive getting laid, or what?"

At the Arch and Lark:

Realized that in my haste to squeeze in a response yesterday I never responded to Nikolai last time. I apologize for the oversight!

Festus nods his understanding. "One looks forward to the day," he says, evenly. "If they are to be working with you for a longer term, sir, shall I take the carriage down to Remesiana this evening? In a bigger city, like such, I believe I could secure a new carriage big enough for the whole entourage to ride comfortably." He pauses for the briefest of moments, as a thought flashes through his head. "Unless, of course, your prefer the current arrangement, as it keeps them from getting too comfortable all at the same time?"

Madame Cembers seems disheartened at the news of the Archbaron's being busy, but perks up when she fully believes that it's only a matter of timing. "I'm not sure what you mean about playing hard to get, m'lord, but I'm willing to try! Do you have any suggestions? And what's he like in person? Is he as handsome as his portrait?" Her attention is momentarily diverted by staring at one of the large ones on the wall.

Penelope gets tickled by the thought, We could find a man, who just isn't smart enough to run when two armed women stroll up and ask him which one of us is prettier. She'll lock up our whimpering bard in the open pillory while she waits for Darla or our Greed to open the other one.

Are there jail cells, and do any of the keys open them?

It takes a bit of time, but Muziel eventually returns with yet another key, as well as a few items he couldn't identify:
- a tapering stick made of a light colored wood with blue veins running down the length
- 1 small vial filled with a pale blue liquid
- 10 small parchment packages containing sticky black gelatinous blocks

"There's a key labeled Pillory, so that seems promising." He tries the new key on the stocks. Once that opens up (or even if it doesn't), he looks back to the prisoners. "So, there's three prisoners here and only two stocks. The barmaid doesn't seem too important, so seems like Riley Kels and Bolgart Caggan should get locked up, eh? Maybe we should see what Kels has to say first? I'm sure he knows oodles about the Angel Knights." He heads over to Riley Kels and removes the gag, waiting to see if he'll give up information based on his fear of being locked up.

Talk stupid little man, and tell us who is prettier she winks at Cimri as she harasses the bard Ooor you could tell us all about those horrible knights who got you into this mess?

I'm at GenCon the next couple days, but I shall endeavor to keep up.

Kolaiah kept an eye on the prisoners through the whole endeavor of unlocking things, finding keys, and arguments about looks. He had opinions, but it was often best to keep them to oneself, particularly where women were concerned.

However, when Penelope commenced at asking questions, Kolaiah knew it was time to assist in her efforts. "Let's go you lawbreaker, make with some answers for the lady. A few days in the stocks may not be a vacation in itself, but let me tell you that there are worse ways to spend your time, and I can introduce you to them if necessary."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18 +1 vs members of Chelish aristocracy

"No Festus, let's keep it as is. I hinted that the freeloaders should find their own suitable transportation, maybe a few more tight trips with Sister Ismene will motivate them. She smells like she sleeps in her cloths. Her Charisma is an 8 to be fair." Nikolai says in response to Festus.

"Oh he is very attractive my dear, you have a good eye. Sometimes when a woman wants a man, its best to be subtle, not be too forward. Perhaps make yourself seen in public more, but do not pay him any more attention than his station requires. He will wonder why the change of heart and it might spring him to pursue you." Nikolai trys to give Madame Cembers some beauty tips also Disguise: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9, but decides she looks best as is.

At the Jail:

There are 2 10' x 15' jail cells beyond the doors to the north (map). The sheriff's office area is separated off from the main area by a waist high (for most people) railing. Of the keys on the ring, 1 goes to both cells, 1 goes to the three cabinets, 1 goes to the contraband box, 1 goes to the two doors separating the main office area from the cell block, and 1 goes to the front door. The pillory key is not attached to the ring, normally kept in a cabinet.

The key Muziel found opens up the lock on the second pillory easily, making them both available for use. The first thing that Riley Kels does when the gag is removed from his mouth is spend a few moments spitting on the ground, trying to get the bad taste of the rag out of his mouth and perhaps dislodge some errant fibers that came off.

"Look," he says with a somewhat pleading tone. "I'm just an entertainer who got inspired and filled with hope by Allomar's speech the other day. Maybe it made my head a bit too big. I don't know anything about any conspiracies, and I didn't do anything but play my music! Just let me go. I'll skip town and you'll never hear from me again." He looks between Cimri and Penelope furtively for a moment before adding, hastily, "and I'd rather not get involved between whatever this is."

At the Arch and Lark:

"Very good, sir," acknowledges Festus, not commenting about Sister Ismene's hygene. "Although it has been my observation that societal leeches generally fail to take the hint before the gravy train dries up. You know your companions better than I, however, and I'm sure you know how to handle them best."

"Thank you m'lord," says Cembers, obsequiously. "It's so good to have someone versed in the intricacies of noble pursuits. I never would have thought of that without your expertise! Will you be gracing us with your exquisite performances again tonight? I do so enjoy your cosmopolitan taste."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (11) + 0 = 11.

"A likely story, Kels." Muziel actually had no reason to doubt Kels, but on the other hand he wasn't the most perceptive gnome. Having gotten the ball rolling, he's happy to let the others do the talking.

If you tell us everything, and who is prettiest, we'll let you go Penelope teased, having absolutely no intention of doing that. Plus she's not really fishing for any information, she's just enjoying picking at him. bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27

oh sensemotive: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

"You may not know anything, but you're not out of the woods yet, pal. Lock his cute little traitor ass in the stocks! I'll go fetch some rotten vegetables from the compost pile at the temple."

Am I actually going to get to use that ridiculous profession skill? Oh please yes!

"I propose that we just stick him in the stocks for a bit, and then he'll talk in order to get released."

"You're all treating me like I'm some master spy, or something," says Kels, sulking in the restraints of the pillory. "I already told you everything, and I didn't do anything. If you're seriously holding out until I answer which one of you two is prettiest, then fine, I'll do it against my better judgement. You have to remember, though, that you literally tortured this out of me, and therefore you can't hold my answer against me. It's under duress!." He takes a deep breath and gestures as Penelope as best he can in his current predicament. "You give me a rather uncomfortable corpse-like vibe. It's kind of disturbing, so I'd have to go with her," he tries his best to point to Cimri, "because I'm not into that whole graveyard scene, ya know? Can I go now? Please? I didn't do anything."

Cimri starts with a super smug expression, which quickly starts to falter. "I'm not sure what that answer actually means," she admits. "Did I win? Or was that a way of saying she won overall, but just isn't his type?"

Kels, for his part, just sulks some more. "I think I just got a splinter in my wrist," he points out, gloomily.

Edit:"Hang on, I know what that blue stuff is," Cimri points out after a few minutes of thinking after Muziel showed around the contraband that he couldn't identify. "That's Blue Whinnis!" She pulls out a nearly identical vial. "It's a sleepy-time poison. Auntie confiscated that from me, but she didn't get all of it." She grins and puts her existing vial back away. "Dunno what the others were, though."

"Life is about making difficult choices, but it is also about choosing the right associates. You chose poorly. We will check on you in a few hours."

"Ooh, nice," says the gnome, admiring the blue vial. "Anyone else know how to use this Blue Whinnis poison? There's a bunch of other stuff in the jail if you want to check it out. Otherwise, I say we lock these two up and go get some lunch!"

I'm a little confused on that one too, leave it to a bard to even get something as simple as that wrong Penelope will force the annoying turd of a man into the stocks, and locking it up. Lunch sounds lovely, our eager little Greed.

Between the remaining six of you, there's very little difficulty putting the still-unsconscious Caggan in the second pillory, and locking the still-unconscious barmaid in one of the two cells. I believe that's the plan, but correct me if I'm wrong.

"I could go for some food, too," Cimri agrees. "The Last Stand's closed, and we wouldn't be welcome back anyway, especially now, so I guess that leaves the Arch and Lark." She gives a long-suffering sigh. "I don't know what Gluttony likes about that place. I guess he just njoys a place as pretentious as he is."

"I don't suppose any of you would be the kind sort willing to bring a helpless bard, who never had breakfast, something to eat?" asks Kels, without hope.

Kolaiah looks at the pilloried bard, "with a little luck, the good citizens of the town will throw some rotten fruit at you, feel free to eat what you catch."

He follows the group for lunch. A nice roast, rare and bloody will be just the thing.

"Of course I will perform. Allow me to clean up a bit, and I shall put on a show."

Nikolai starts out the evening with a classic. Riders on the Storm

When he sees his companions arrive he delivers something a bit more exciting. Warlok

Performance: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15

Did he miss the part where I was bringing him vegetables? What a prima donna.

"You should have thought of that before you decided to flaunt our authority," Ismene says, turning on her heel with the others.

Sitting down at what's unfortunately becoming their usual table at the Arch and Lark, Ismene rests her cheek in her palm while she peruses the menu, unimpressed with the sheer complexity. "I can't even pronounce half of this frou-frou crap. What's a girl gotta do to get a steak in this joint?"

Probably kill it yourself Penelope suggests, sharing Ismene's menu distress.

Did he miss the part where I was bringing him vegetables? What a prima donna.

You did say rotten vegetables :P

perform result: 1d10 ⇒ 7

"That's why nobody really likes this place," Cimri agrees. "Business definitely seems to be picking up now that there's only one place to go, though," she observes, looking around the more crowded than usual common room, many of which occasionally shoot scared or angry glances at the group's table.

Still, for the inn, business is business and even though Nikolai is having a bit of an off day in terms of playing up to his full potential, it's still the best (and only) entertainment to be had for the time being. In addition to the flat 2gp fee as last time, he also makes an additional 7sp in tips from the patrons. Some genuinely enjoy the big-city style, others possibly just want to be seen enjoying it.

After about an hour or so, one of Fex's guards from Scarlet Crown comes into the place. He looks around for a moment, spots the group's table and heads over.

"So some of us have been given duty guarding the gates into town, yeah?" he says, launching right in without any moments spared for small talk. "He said if there's any trouble or unusual-ness to bother you guys about it first before taking it to him." He puts up a hand and rubs his forehead with an odd expression. "So here I am. There's this hobgoblin at the north gate, see, and he's demanding to be let into town for the night. He hasn't got a writ of entry and he doesn't care. He's dressed kind of soldier-like, if you get my meaning. Well armed. We were hoping that maybe you folks could calmly get him to understand and go away, or something." He looks between everyone with a hopeful expression.

Penelope shrugs, Sounds funner than this. Mind if I stop by and change... I don't want to get hobgoblin on my new dress. I'll meet you all there.

"So some hobgoblin thinks the rules don't apply to him huh? Well, then you've done the right thing, we absolutely will handle this."

Kolaiah grabs his weapon and waits expectantly for his companions to follow.

"But I haven't finished my drink yet!" protests Muziel. He then immediately downs the remaining contents and shrugs. "Well, I guess that wasn't much of a problem. Let's go!"

Penelope gets back, hangs up her lovely dress in the driest most non rat infested place she can find in their makeshift home, pulls on her leathers, straps on her sword and other weapons. And feels normal again.

Then heads off to the gate, to meet Muziel and Kolaiah apparently.

Upon reaching the Noth gate to Longacre, the situation is somewhat tense. The guard that stayed while the other went to fetch the group is standing ready while the Hobgoblin eyes him angrily, or at least more angrily than Hobgoblins always look. He turns to the group as soon as they arrive.

"I don't appreciate this racial profiling," he growls by way of greeting. "There ain't never been a need for special permission to stay the night in a friendly town before. I've been traveling for days to wrk for the Duke of Remesiana, so I ain't got no plans to eat babies or whatever you rednecks think I plan to do. I 'spect an apology, else my patience might wear out and I'm liable to get mad." He rests a hand on the hilt of his longsword and waits expectantly.

Penelope arrives somehow before the others... well Muziel's legs are a bit shorter than hers. Seeing the Hobgoblin and hearing him whine on about his employer she tries to remember if she's heard the name before.

knowledgenoble: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Sister Ismene's ears perk up when the guard mentions 'hobgoblin'. She says nothing, but her fist reflexively clenches hard enough to shatter the glass in her hand. Wordlessly, she follows the others to the gate.

Looking through the bars of the gate, the sight of the ugly, green monster proves too much for her to handle. Blinking, she sees flashbacks to a time she'd spent her whole life trying to forget. Suddenly, she's a toddler again, watching her village burn around her, goblins and hobgoblins slaughtering the villagers, her parents among them. Ismene closes her eyes as her body begins to tremble, and she grabs onto Cimri's shoulder for support.

Penelope is aware that a much bigger city like Remesiana (the nearest proper metropolis to Longacre) is typically ruled by a Lord-Mayor rather than a specific class of nobility, and that Endorri Daelyr is the current Lord-Mayor of Remesiana. Remesiana is also, however, the largest city in the Archduchy of Sirmium and is therefore the seat of power of House Henderthane, and therefore the Archduke Nicetas Henderthane as well.

"Not so tight," whispers Cimri, wincing. "I don't want my shoulder to go the way that glass did."

"You know it's mid-afternoon, right?" Cimri points out to the visitor. "You could probably make it at least a quarter, maybe a third of the way there if you just keep walking."

"Easy for you to say," spits the Hobgoblin. "I've already had to add an extra week to my trip from Isger going around this so-called 'Glorious Reclamation,' or whatever they call it. I'm sick of camping, sick of walking and just looking to relax for an evening. That shouldn't be too much for anyone to want, right?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5

Muziel, having no awareness of Sister Ismene's unhappiness, perks up when the hobgoblin mentions the Glorious Reclamation. "Hey, you know about the Glorious Reclamation? What's been happening? I don't know who this Duke of Remesiana is, but there's plenty of work for Archbaron Fex here. If you work for him, you get to come in and out of town, no problem. Pay's good. No racial profiling here - we've got plenty of, um, interesting sorts with us." Muziel shrugs, not sure if the hobgoblin was interested in recruitment, but figuring such a pitch couldn't hurt.

Sounds good, Muziel she turns toward the hobgoblin We give you the permission you need to enter, and you tell us all you've been hearing on the Reclamation, accompanied by a mug of ale or two. Deal?

diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 of course she isn't the negotiator of the group so if anyone else wants to step in, cause Penelope might have just said something about his mother, something not pleasant

"No!" Ismene snaps out of her personal crisis to object loudly to Muziel and Penelope. "That thing is not coming in here!" Her fear overcome by malice, she turns on the hobgoblin. "Your kind aren't welcome here! Beat it!"

Penelope seems more than a little surprised, their normal voice of reason just becoming... unreasonable. She doesn't personally have any qualms about being unreasonable, so she backs the monk stepping next to her, laying her hand on her sword hilt, Looks like the offer is off the table, best get walking. then more quietly to Isemene What are we objecting to exactly?

Sister Ismene sucks hard on the air, on the verge of hysteria. "We're objecting to letting scum-sucking war pigs into our town! He's lucky we don't kill him where he stands! It's better than their kind gave mine back in Isger."

Momentarily surprised by Ismene's actions, his expression soon turns to understanding. "There we go. It took a while, but I finally get why you chose the name you did!"

Muziel spins to address the hobgoblin. "Looks like you've stirred up Wrath. And when Wrath gets angry, it's time to move along. Fast. Understand?"

The Hobgoblin seems to begin to be assuaged and is just about to accept the deal when Ismene throws everything into disarray. He bares a snaggle-toothed sneer and draws his longsword slowly.

"Zaggar of Vulture Crag does not move along for racists," he says, pointing his blade at Sister Ismene and spitting a gob of some greenish-pink phlegm on the ground. "I demand satisfaction from you in a duel, ugly human man. The others, band-wagoners though they may be, I have no problem with."

Nikolai notices his friends leave during his performance, but pays it little mind. How is it I got in league with such commoners? Oh, Well uncle was right in a way I suppose. I shall just need to keep this up a bit more before I can really make my name for myself. Nikolai thinks as he finishes his songs.

A fair fight, are you serious? Why in the freaking pits of hell, would we do that? Penelope drew her sword in response to the hobgoblin doing the same.

"You know, I've never gotten to study hobgoblin anatomy before. Sounds like I'll get the chance!" He grins wickedly with the thought.

-Posted with Wayfinder

"You demand satisfaction? I demand PENANCE!" Sister Ismene draws her three-section staff from inside her robe, backed up by Penelope and Muziel. She yells at the guard, "Open the damn gate!"

Once, she had been afraid of the greenskins. They had taken everything from her. But the Sisters of the Golden Erinyes had taught her to overcome that fear, and given her a new life in place of the one that had been stolen from her. The greenskins would pay, she would make them pay, starting with Zaggar of Vulture Crag.

Fight! Fight! Fight! Looks exciting. I wasn't sure - do you want us to help you kick the hobgoblin's butt, Ismene?

Yeah, feel free to help lay the smack down! The more the merrier!