Kazadarin Darlok |
Kazadarin follows the others and attempts to look things over.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Darry Swiftfoot |
Backtracking into the room of the fight, He moved to check the doors that were now on their left.
Where is this blasted man. We have to impress the Marshall eh Bazzle?
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
Bazzle makes sure that none of the men don't match the description.
"There are more rooms. He is here someplace. We have not been in here." Bazzle points to the room the passed coming in. "Or whats with the stairs."
Kazadarin Darlok |
Onward and upward it would seem." Kazadarin draws his bow and begins to move up the stairs.
STEALTH: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
I assume the boars are in the room east of B6 not up or down the stairs right?
"Looks like boars." He closes the door. "Do you think they'd hide things with the boars." Bazzle
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
Bazzle is for leaving the door closed unless someone latches on to his idea to search in there. Probably should have asked this earlier do any of the unconscious one look like Vancaskerskin?
Darry Swiftfoot |
Lets check the room back by those stairs, I am not partial to slopping through muck to say high to some bacon.
He said clearly not realy wanting to go into all the muck with his wounds...unless they really had to.
MiniGM |
The air in this room is stale, stinking of day-old meat and blood.
Straw litters the floor, scattered to catch what drips from the
meat hooks affixed to the walls and ceiling on metal rods. To
the north is a low blood-stained table and two barrels of salt,
while to the south, a pair of double doors stands. An iron bar
extends through a narrow hole at the top of the doors; the bar
runs along the ceiling for five feet before ending at a vertical
pole running floor to ceiling.
gimme a nature check
Kazadarin Darlok |
Kazadarin looks around also.
Perception1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
Bazzle looks at the straw and lifts something a looks of shock washes over his face, "I think its a toe. . .they are serving people. Bad tasting jerky . . . no." Bazzle looks sick and vomits in the corner.
Kazadarin Darlok |
Kazadarin turns gray...then slowly the color returns to his scared face, the color of blood. "This. Will. Not. Stand." The ranger notches an arrow to his bow string and turns away to ward's the hall. "There will be blood..."
MiniGM |
Our heroes take their rage and move past the stairs
map updated
A round table sits in this room, surrounded by four wooden
chairs. A stack of cards sits on the tabletop. A cabinet to
the southwest hangs open, a tangle of dirty clothes and
blankets within. Four thin bedrolls lie rolled up against the
north wall.
A single door is to the south
Darry Swiftfoot |
He climbed atop the table and removed his sling... then carefully took out a stone and set it in place. Glancing it his companions and nodding torwards Sebastion torwards the door He let out a shrill whistle and started the sling a whirring. . .
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
Seeing Darryl's intent Bazzle moves to the door and nods to the others before checking to see if its locked and tries to swing it open and get out of the way.
Kazadarin Darlok |
Katz will move to the door with an arrow drawn and ready.
Set him on opposite side of door from Bazzle
MiniGM |
The door is kicked open
A single large desk stands in the eastern part of this large
office, transformed into a makeshift bed by a bedroll and
several blankets and pillows. A table and three chairs sit to the
west; several papers lie strewn over the table’s surface and a
chamberpot sits under it. One of the papers is pinned to the
tabletop by an exquisite silver dagger.
The man you have been seeking Vlerick, stands armed, still in his guard uniform behind the desk. Who sent you?
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
Bazzle answers sternly, "Get over it Vlerick, Kroft sent us. She did not want you harmed . . . but that was before she knew you and you cohorts were serving human jerky to the people of the city." Bazzle swallows a gag as he speaks, he recomposed himself fueled by righteous revulsion continues. "Surrender or give us an excuse."
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
Furious Bazzle shoots back. "You and your murderous friends have been selling butchered people to me and gods know who else." He shakes his head at the thought, growling he continues, "Surrender! Lay down your arms."
Darry Swiftfoot |
sense motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
You are being placed under arrest for desertion, though we might be lienant, if you can tell us why you desertted. I mean a good enough reason and we might look the other way and just take in those sick-o's downstairs who served my mate there human meat jerky.
He began still whirling the sling stone as he nodded torwards Bazzle
bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
A total lie regardless of whether he tells us why he deserted (part of miss Cassandra's request) totally going to arrest him. Lucky sod got my 20 on the talking not the fighting... oh well.
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
"Downstairs. You can cram the faux outrage. The butchery is full of human parts. Last call for surrender you are outnumbered. Your allies are subdued a mercy they do not deserve."
Darry Swiftfoot |
sense motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
BAM!
You know what, you seem like an alright chap, take a walk with us we will show you the sort of operation your boys are running downstairs, maybe while we do that you can tell why you ran off eh?
He began nodding to his companions, to let them know it was alright.
Darry Swiftfoot |
Sense motive 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Look chap, we are trying to do you a solid, come on out of your room, come take a look at whats going on downstairs, tell why you did something foolish like desert and we will do what we can to help you out and lessen the possible charges. We are a special team of trouble shooters hired by the Queen herself and given orders by the lovely Generel Kroft and we will take you in the easy way or the hard way. We're good chaps here we would prefer the easy way.
He sighed sure the gentleman would continue to make this rough. It had already been one of those days.
"You know what fine, you boys keep an eye on him.
He grumbled hopping off the table after stopping his slings whirl and replacing the stone in his little bullet bag.
Kazadarin Darlok |
Kazadarin slowly puts away his bow and draws his great club from his belt as he eyes his prey. "You are going back. Your excuses be damned. Lay down any weapons you possess. Right now."
The scared ranger readies the old oak club into a fighting position and begins to slowly advance on the guard leader. "You will do as we say. I am tired of seeing this city go to the Hells because of people like you. Now drop the weapons and turn around or I am going to treat you like your men treated those the butchered."
Bazzle Blast-hazard |
"Your friends fed me human meat. Let that sink in before my friends club does. Our fellow went to get you proof but if you are not going to follow instructions of the big guy you its a lot more likely that he stoves you skull in before I could even get a lick in myself. Kroft will have the proof that you were complicit in cannibalism and either your corpse of your severely injured body to answer for the crime."
Bazzle shrugs "Your call."
diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18