The Dissidents of Westcrown - A CoT PBP Adventure (Inactive)

Game Master Darkmeer

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Westcrown


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In 4606 AR, Aroden, god of humanity, innovation, and history, died. No city in all of Golarion was wracked more fundamentally by this catastrophic event than your home, Westcrown.

Whether you’ve lived here for weeks or your lifetime, you are well aware of Westcrown’s descent, accompanied by the the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune’s ascension. This had made life, at best, difficult, and at worst, a living hell.

Something must be done to improve the lives of your fellow citizens. Someone must stand against the tide - even if it means being swallowed themselves. But who possesses such courage?

Morning, 2 Gozran, 4708 AR

Lucina:

The previous night’s revelries were still with you when you awoke this morning. A pounding headache, cotton-dry mouth and extreme sensitivity to light and noise, all served as unpleasant reminders of your refusal to let an ugly dock worker beat you in a drinking contest. Fortunately, the jingle of coins in your pouch were far more pleasant. You’ve earned an additional 20 gold pieces.

As you made your way down to the main floor of the Sleepy Hound, you heard Nic’s voice - particularly piercing this morning - informing you that you had received a parcel. He quickly followed that up with a directive to get the tavern ready for the coming patrons.

You see the small envelope laying on the bar top - its red wax seal is still in tact. Your curiosity overcoming your hangover, you open it immediately. Inside, you find a neatly hand-written note:

You are not alone in your concerns for the people of Westcrown. Meet me at Vizio's Tavern in Rego Scripa this afternoon for dinner. - Janiven

Stanley:

You were still eating breakfast when you heard a knock on your door. Upon answering the door, you see a woman carrying a large parcel. ”Your week’s delivery, sir,” she says, lifting the items towards you. Taking it from her, you notice a small envelope with a red wax seal on top. You set it aside as you pack away the items. You’ve received a surgeon’s kit.

Once you’re done with the menial chore, you turn to the strange envelope and crack it open. Inside you find a short, hand-written note:

You are not alone in your concerns for the people of Westcrown. Meet me at Vizio's Tavern in Rego Scripa this afternoon for dinner. - Janiven

Tervon:

You awoke outside your home this morning. Immediately, you tasted blood and felt the large knot on your head - the memories of last night flood back with the sensations.

The jokes. The dancing. The gambling. The dice.

The dice!

You quickly felt in your pockets - the dice were still there. You have superior loaded dice. Why you grabbed them once the gambling got nasty, you don’t know. But they’re yours now, and as far as you know, Dervon the Bellower was none the wiser.

You remember running home, your hand pressed against your forehead to stem the bleeding. You’ve taken 2 points of damage. You vaguely recall having lost your house key. But your memories of passing out on the threshold are nowhere to be found.

As you sit, trying to gather your sense, you spot a female gnome walking towards you. She frowns slightly when she notices you, but quickens her pace to reach you. ”Are you Tervon? Tervon duJoncleur? Are you alright?” She examines your wounds with a look of disdain and annoyance. ”I was told to deliver this to you. Hope you’re ok,” she says, withdrawing a small envelope from her cloak and handing it over. Without another word, she turns on her heels to walk away, ignoring your requests for more information.

Opening the small envelope, you find a short, hand-written note inside:

You are not alone in your concerns for the people of Westcrown. Meet me at Vizio's Tavern in Rego Scripa this afternoon for dinner. - Janiven

Leeka:

Your morning meditations were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Choosing to ignore it, it was followed by a second, louder knock. Completing your meditation (you gain two additional stunning fist attacks for the day), you rise and move towards the door. Upon opening it, you see a serious-looking female. She looks down at you and wordlessly hands over a small envelope. After a curt nod, she turns on her heel and walks away.

Curious, you flip over the red-wax-sealed envelope and open it. Inside you find a short, hand-written note.

You are not alone in your concerns for the people of Westcrown. Meet me at Vizio's Tavern in Rego Scripa this afternoon for dinner. - Janiven

Enera:

You awoke with a start as your head fell from your hand and hit the table. Another night spent studying and experimenting. You were getting better - you think - and the lack of explosions testify to that. Unfortunately, while you nodded off, the chemical combination you’d mixed burned a small hole in the desk. You move quickly to clean up your mess, scooping the acid-like mixture into two small vials. You’ve earned two acid flasks.

Before you’re finished, you hear a light tapping on your door. ”Enera, a letter has just arrived,” your mentor, Mr. Desdox, says. ”It was delivered by a strange-looking man with green hair. Don’t suppose you know who that is, eh?” he asks. Without waiting for an answer, he slides the envelope under the door. ”Come down for breakfast after you get that…” you hear him sniffing the air, ”acid…cleaned up.”

Opening the red-wax-sealed envelope, you find a short note inside:

You are not alone in your concerns for the people of Westcrown. Meet me at Vizio's Tavern in Rego Scripa this afternoon for dinner. - Janiven

Iolana:

Your morning meditations were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Completing your meditation (you gain one additional channel positive energy for the day), you rise and move towards the door. Upon opening it, you see a female halfling dressed in simple clothing. She looks up at you and hands over a small envelope with a wide smile. ”’Twas told to deliver this ta ya. Here ya’ go, m’lady. The Inheritor keep ya!” she says, turning to leave.

You flip over the red-wax-sealed envelope and open it. Inside you find a short, hand-written note.

You are not alone in your concerns for the people of Westcrown. Meet me at Vizio's Tavern in Rego Scripa this afternoon for dinner. - Janiven

Afternoon, the same day.
Vizio's tavern lies on one of the less-traveled streets in Westcrown. The dottari rarely, if ever, bother patrolling this area, as it was not long ago that this tavern was frequented by merchant guards looking for a quiet place to complain and have a drink.

As you approach the tavern, you note that what few passerby's there are either seem completely disinterested in your doings, or are too busy with their own shady dealings to care about yours.

The tavern looks as if it had done some brisk business at some point, but signs of neglect are showing, as the exterior appears to have not been cleaned in a while and the paint is beginning to chip.

The order you post is the order in which you will arrive feel free to interact and get introductions out of the way until everyone has arrived and had a chance to meet.


Female Elf Alchemist 1 | HP 12/12 | AC 15, touch 12, flatfooted 13 | CMD 15 | Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 (+2 ench) | Init +2

Enera rolls a copper piece nervously between her fingers as she crosses the threshold into Visio's Tavern. Even though she's run through the possibilities in her head and convinced herself this probably isn't a trap, this part of Westcrown is dangerous enough to warrant caution. She feels the weight of the longsword strapped to her back, and is slightly reassured.

The elven woman takes a seat at the bar and orders a cheap ale while she waits for "Janiven", whoever that may be. As she drinks it, she keeps a watch on the room at large to see what kind of crowd is gathered here. She also taps an vial gently on the table, having a reflexive need to do something with her hands. Inside this vial is a broken seal of red wax.


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

The door to Vizio's tavern opens, and shuts almost as quickly, leaving no immediate evidence of an entrant. Leeka Fullbottle slips along the wall and underneath tables, making her way to the bar, where she surreptitiously climbs up on a stool. Putting her back to the bar for the moment, she scans the assembled crowd for anything unusual. A faint sound nearby attracts here attention and she looks to see an elven woman playing with a flask containing a familiar seal in red wax.

"An interesting vial you hold. Strange to see someone with a flask of dried wax. Does it have significance for you?"


The tavern is completely empty, save for a solitary, attractive young woman behind the bar. She smiles in greeting as all of you walk in, casually mentioning her name - Janiven - and inviting you to have a seat.

Enera:

As she hands over your drink, her eyes travel to your vial. She smiles and nods. "Glad you're here. Enera, isn't it? Have a drink. There are others who will be joining us shortly."


Female Elf Alchemist 1 | HP 12/12 | AC 15, touch 12, flatfooted 13 | CMD 15 | Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 (+2 ench) | Init +2

"That's right, yes," she says to Janiven, not bothering to ask how the woman behind the bar knows who she is. "A drink would be nice, nothing too strong."

She shifts slightly in her seat to see a third person enter the tavern, hardly noticing the vial in her own hand until it's pointed out to her. "Oh, yes, that. It came attached to an enevelope I received this morning. You got one too, I imagine?"


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

The timid-looking halfling nods. "An invitation..." she pauses, turning to the bartender, "to meet you, if I'm not mistaken."


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

Before arriving at Vizio's:
Lucina awakens with a groan, spending some minutes after the morning's light hit her burying her face beneath her feather-stuffed pillow in a futile attempt to pretend she didn't have to get up and face the day. Then she briefly toys with the idea that this was Cayden's way of telling her that she needed a day off. "No way Nic would have any of that," she mutters to herself with a protracted sigh before finally rolling out from under the covers.

Life from then on had a number of positives and negatives.
Positives: A nice, hot bath.
Negatives: The Sleepy Hound's stockpile of alchemist's kindness had been depleted.

Lucina spends a good minute staring at the first-aid kit they kept upstairs in Nic's offices attempting to will more of it into existence, but in the end she really truly has to face the reality that is 'being a conscious and semi-functional human being'. Sigh.

Upon arriving downstairs, the news of a parcel leaves the young Chelaxian a little confused but also quite curious. She rips open the envelope with one hand as she makes her way through the taproom swabbing tables with an old rag and rearranging the disparate furniture.
Though Lucina had very little idea of what to expect upon opening the letter, what awaits her there is both shocking and exciting. "How curious," she murmurs to herself, a sly smile creeping onto her lips unbidden. "Curious indeed..."

The letter is pocketed for a good hour or so as Lucina lines up a row of freshly-cleaned glasses and hand-washes a load of tablecloths and bedsheets. The intervening time allows her to think on it a little, her enthusiasm able to be tempered by caution: What could this mean? Who is Janiven? Is this a trap set by the dottari or the Hellknights...?

Eventually, she decides to bring the letter to the attention of Nicomede. The old man was far wiser than she, and he also had a good feel for the town. He might know a thing or two about Visio's Tavern, at least.

"Say, Nic," she approaches the greying barkeep shortly after they open up shop and holds up the letter for him to see. "What do you think of this?"

Regardless of her kind mentor's thoughts on the matter, she weaves some questions about the name and location amongst the tavern-goers during her waitress shift. She knows the regulars, knows which of them are sympathetic to the cause and which aren't to be trusted--but even so, Lucina is sure to coach her questions in innocent terms.

"Hey, do you know someone named Janiven? She was a customer here not too long ago I think, 'coz I found a kerchief of hers forgotten in the corner of a room the other day..."

"Oh, so Nic's been wanting me to ask around about... y'know, customer satisfaction or whatever. And, no," she rolls her eyes, "that doesn't mean me satisfying you, Ted. But he wants to know what you like about OTHER taverns. Y'know... The Pearl and Oyster, Andro's, Vizio's Tavern, any that you can think of. Tell us what you reckon of them, eh?"

Diplomacy (gather info): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Lucina's a natural at this. She knows how to put her good looks and high charisma to best use.

And now back to the present day...

Deciding that she might as well face up to whatever potential danger is here straight-on, Lucina straps herself up with her leathers and weapons before striding downtown to Vizio's Tavern. She doesn't pause in her gait for even a moment as she strides up to the door and enters, taking in the rather barebones pub with an arched brow. A woman at the bar... and two others, a halfling, and--an elf? Don't see many of those around these parts!

"Hi there," she greets the assembled with a vague smile, sliding the hood of her cloak down to her shoulders as she closes the door behind her. Lucina is a tall and fit young Chelaxian woman with shoulder-length brown hair and bright green eyes. A fancy rapier hilt swings from her belt, and a jangling golden locket hangs around her neck.

Lucina tucks a few locks of brown hair behind her ear as she approaches the others. "So... which of you is Janiven?" The paladin draws the now quite crumpled letter from her pocket and places it on the bar.


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric (Crusader) 3
Stats:
HP: 22/22 | AC/T/FF: 19/10/19 | Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +6 | CMD: 13 | Init: +1 | Perc +3, Sense Motive +3 | Channel Remaining: 3/5

Iolana pauses before pushing open the door to Vizio's. It was hard enough to get the afternoon off...I'd better not be walking into a trap, here. Wish I had my armor on and my morningstar in my hand. Can't attract attention, though...

She puts her hand to the iron rose pendant hanging at her neck and closes her eyes, momentarily dipping into the wellspring of power that is the Everbloom. You run through the streets of this city, Everbloom. You know the hearts of all who walk in its shadow. Show me whom to trust. Casting Detect the Faithful. One of the rose thorns pricks her thumb as she squeezes the pendant, and she smiles slightly. Then she pushes open the door, and steps inside, her vision hazed in the way that Milani's sight always blurred it.

Once inside, she closes the door and blinks, slightly, surprised to only see the three other women there. Crossing quickly over to the group, she looks them over. A halfling, an elf, and a human... She smiles at them, though without the gentleness that would match the young housewife she's dressed as. "One of you would be Janiven, I take it?" She doesn't sit just yet, but stands slightly apart.

Iolana will keep her spell going as long as she can (unfortunately only one minute) to try to scan anyone/everyone who shows up. I'll let the GM decide at what point it wears off in the conversation.


Male Human Rogue | AC 15 T 12 FF 13 | HP 8/8 | F +0 R +5 W +0 | Init +2 | Perc +4

Spoiler:
Tervon will seek out the landlord for his apartment, asking to be let in. He moves quickly to get himself presentable for the evening, as he is not quite what sure he will have to deal with... He notes that he owes the landlady, Vanela Porea, for yet another lock, and arranges to pay for it that very eve.

He carefully makes sure that everything's in order and prepares to leave home.
Currently on person:
3 daggers 1d4, 19-20x2 1ea/3tot
Shortsword 1d6, 19-20 x2 2lbs
Masterwork Studded Leather Armor
2 pounds of marbles in the belt pouch
Belt Pouch .5 pounds
Masterwork thieve's tools 2lbs (in jacket of courtier's outfit).
Courtier's outfit + 50gp jewelry (bracelet, necklace and signet ring) (6lbs)
Traveler's outfit (5 lbs), loaded dice in belt pouch with the dice. 10gp.

Tervon, after cleaning himself up, moves out to Vizios post haste, wearing his generally fine cloting, thinking to himself, I must keep up appearances.

Wearing a fine suit of studded leather armor and with his dark hair slicked back, Tervon DuJoncleur walks into the room. His clean clothing and overall appearance are marred by a dark bruise under his left eye. Smiling as he enters the bar, and looking around taking note that the woman before him inquired also about Janiven.

"So, are we going to be having a contest of sorts, Janiven, whomever you are. Perhaps a juggling contest, as I, Tervon DuJoncleur can juggle with the best of them!"


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

Not long after she herself arrives, Lucina turns around to face two more arrivals, and she grins. "I guess we all got invitations to Janiven's treehouse," she says with a laugh, removing her backpack and roughly tossing it onto a nearby table. "But not for juggling, one would hope. I'd probably balls that one up. ...Heh," Lucina smirks to herself at the bad pun; clearly an audience of one is all she needs.

"Name's Lucina," she adds, almost as an afterthought, offering her hand to any nearby. Her handshake is strong and firm, and she looks directly in the eyes of everyone she greets like that. "Lucina Tilernos, to be exact, but don't mind the name; it's like a historical artifact, is all. Lovely to meet you all."


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric (Crusader) 3
Stats:
HP: 22/22 | AC/T/FF: 19/10/19 | Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +6 | CMD: 13 | Init: +1 | Perc +3, Sense Motive +3 | Channel Remaining: 3/5

Knowledge (nobility): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

Iolana's eyes widen and her lips tighten when Lucina introduces herself, though she takes the other woman's hand and shakes it firmly. "Not that much of a historical artifact, surely--I'm certain I'd have heard if House Tilernos had fallen." She smiles thinly, not taking her eyes off Lucina's face.

S@$%shitshit! IS it a trap?! No...no, surely if it were she wouldn't be stupid enough to give her real name...Milani's blood, I wish I had the sense to sniff out evil now...


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

"Ah, no, heavens forbid that happen," Lucina corrects herself with an apologetic bob of her head and tiny smile. "I mean a historical artifact of myself. I'm... not much connected with the family anymore. But it feels weird to be introducing myself without it. Like going out with no pants on, or something?" She shrugs idly; apparently the namedrop means very little to her. Lucina is clearly unaware of the impact it has on Iolana, or anyone else for that matter.


Male Human Hex Channeler Hedge Witch 1 (AC/Mage Armor: 12/16 [T: 12 FF: 10/14] | HP: 6/6 | F+0, R+2, W+3 | Init: +2 |Perc: +1/+3 [Vesnik: +5])

Stanley's both curious and cautious nature prove to see him lag behind the appointed meeting time. He looks over the missive with suspicion before setting about learning all he can about the sender. It could very easily be a setup. It wouldn't be unlike the Dottari or the Order of the Rack to try and trick someone into exposing themselves as dissidents for the 'safety of the city'. This is probably all due to that loudmouth during his meal the other night. That's what he gets for trying out a new place to sup.

While making the rounds to his patients and coordinating with his medicine suppliers, he tosses around a few well-guarded questions and names in hopes of learning something about the meeting before he just shows up. He slips the name in almost passingly, as if making conversation, but not familiarly so as to warrant clarification on the part of the other speaker.

Gather Info (Diplomacy) on Vizio's Tavern and Janiven
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21, takes him 1d4 ⇒ 2 hrs.

Satisfied that it is not likely a setup, he decides it is worth at least looking in on. If there is a chance to truly offer help to the citizens, he would want to see what they have in mind.

As he opens the door to the establishment, he is instantly worried, and it shows on his face, for how many people are inside the tavern. The larger the number, the greater risk of the meeting being noteworthy to a groveling informant. He looks each of the others over with his fine eye for scrutiny, as he enters, without speaking to anyone. He nervously thumbs the letter in his pocket, considering tossing it in the hearth before excusing himself, but he has a strange compulsion to stay and hear them out. The only one he seems uncertain of is the attractive young Chelaxian woman, that carries herself with such surety.

He tries to get a Hunch (DC 20) about each of the people at the tavern.
Janiven 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20
Enera 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28
Leeka 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
Lucina 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
Iolana 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Tervon 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27

P.S. would anyone be willing to give me a pronunciation key for their name? Like is it eh-NEER-uh or EN-er-uh, AY-oh-la-nuh or yo-LA-nuh?


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

Loo-CHEE-na Till-ERR-nos [like Nostradamus]. Not Loo-see-na.


Male Human Rogue | AC 15 T 12 FF 13 | HP 8/8 | F +0 R +5 W +0 | Init +2 | Perc +4

"tuur-VON" "VAL-sea-enn" or, in alias, "du-SJOHN-clooer"

Tervon smiles at Lucina and her joke.
"While I wouldn't recommend going balls up for anything, I would recommend them for beginning jugglers. I could, perhaps, show you a few things about juggling."

He pulls out three simple daggers, hardly nice compared to his clothing, and begins juggling them in a simple pattern.

"The trick is not to drop them on your foot!"

He smiles and laughs as he juggles them higher. After a few moments, he throws two higher, sheathing the first one, then, afterwards, catching the other two, sheathing them safely.

"And that concludes our lesson, my lovely dear."

He smiles broadly and begins looking about the room, Tervon makes sure to introduce himself to everyone, including the halfling slip and the quiet one Stanley.

"So, we've got quite an interesting troupe here. Perhaps it would be best to sit down and have some more... quiet conversation?"

He tries to pin the group together with bravado and a kind word or three as he moves tables together so that they may all sit together.

"Reminds me of family meals. Y'know, the kind where nobody wants to sit together because the guy next to them might be the wierd one of the family."

Tervon orders a round for the table (spending a few gold pieces doing so), and sits down to enjoy his merlot.


Female Elf Alchemist 1 | HP 12/12 | AC 15, touch 12, flatfooted 13 | CMD 15 | Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 (+2 ench) | Init +2

eh-NEH-rah ah-rah-SELL-sah - basically, pronounce as if it were Spanish.

Enera laughs in a forced sort of way, evidently finding family meals a less-than-comfortable topic to be discussing. "I don't see what's so odd about shedding inaccurate names. My legal last name is Aracelsa, but I much prefer my first name. Enera," she finishes with a smile. The elf stops tapping the vial on the table in order to take and sip her drink. She takes a long but slow sip, looking at the others over her mug. The contents have hardly decreased by the time she puts it down. "A pleasure to meet you all," she adds, politely.


Male Human Hex Channeler Hedge Witch 1 (AC/Mage Armor: 12/16 [T: 12 FF: 10/14] | HP: 6/6 | F+0, R+2, W+3 | Init: +2 |Perc: +1/+3 [Vesnik: +5])

STAN-lee SIGH-dell, since I did ask for it after all.

Stanley stares for a little bit longer, before he shakes himself out of it. "My apologies, for my rudeness, but for now I will just say that I am Stanley. I will reserve to keep my last name to myself until I feel comfortable that there are no ill-intentions here in the purpose for arranging this meeting." he flashes a quick glance at Lucina, the one person he couldn't get a read on, but looks back hopefully before it's noticed.

From his shoulder comes a light and cheerful chirp, that offsets his dull gray demeanor, he turns and whispers "Yes, yes, I know, just be patient." He directs his thumb at the folds of his cloak along the right shoulder, nestled there is a small, light brown bird, speckled with some white and black markings. "This is my associate, Vesnik. We are both heralds of The Lady of Graves." He makes the spiral over a gray wooden symbol hanging from simple brown twine around his neck. The image is easily lost amongst all the muted grays he himself wears, not bright enough to be cheery, but not dark enough to be grim. They barely set off the pallor to his skin, very pale, but not quite deathly so.


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric (Crusader) 3
Stats:
HP: 22/22 | AC/T/FF: 19/10/19 | Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +6 | CMD: 13 | Init: +1 | Perc +3, Sense Motive +3 | Channel Remaining: 3/5

yo-LAH-na ban-der-O-si.

Iolana releases Lucina's hand, though she keeps a watchful eye on her. Some sort of Pharasmin, too--wonder what he's here for? As long as he doesn't get in my way... "I am called Iolana," she says curtly. "And I--hold on," she breaks off, raising a hand to prevent Tervon from drinking. "Allow me. Here, let us make a circle."

She takes hands with him and anyone else who's willing--whether anyone else responds or not, Iolana looks up and prays, "We humbly beseech: bless our limbs with health, that we may build your world; bless our minds with wit, that we may know its plan; and bless our hearts with wisdom, so we may know our cause." And forgive me, Everbloom, for not naming you aloud--but in a land where worship is forbidden, better to hedge my bets for now. She drops the hands she's holding, and sits, taking up the glass in front of her and adjusting her scarf around her shoulders. "Take and drink--it is safe now."

EDIT: should've said, casting Purify Food and Drink on anything on the table--and anything that comes out later.


Male Human Rogue | AC 15 T 12 FF 13 | HP 8/8 | F +0 R +5 W +0 | Init +2 | Perc +4

Tervon raises an eyebrow at Iolana, smiling politely, and taking a sip of his wine once she has finished her prayers.

"So... what is the purpose of this troupe? What are we here for, or are we just having a nice dinner because someone thought we were oh so pretty?"


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

LEE-ka FULL-bot-tle, though I don't think mine was very hard to figure out. ;)

"I am Leeka," the halfling woman replies meekly. "Somebody seems to have fingered us out as people interested in helping the common citizens of Westcrown. I would love to know how...and what other secrets they know."


Sorry - meant to include these in the inaugural post. Shouldn't change your interactions so far...

DC10 Knowledge: Local or Diplomacy - RE: Janiven:

Janiven is not unknown in Westcrown. She’s worked for several guilds and mercantile interests, sometimes as a caravan guard but more often as a city guide and bodyguard for visiting merchants and business partners that the guilds want to keep out of trouble with local thugs or the shadow beasts that patrol the streets at night. Janiven has a reputation of being a bit rash (for example, she recently dragged her charge half-dressed out of a whorehouse when he refused to head back to a safer part of town before sundown) but quite trustworthy—everyone you talk to has nothing but praise for the woman.

DC10 Knowledge: Local or Diplomacy - RE: Vizio's:

You learn/remember that Vizio's is named for the family that once ran the establishment. Vizio’s was a place where merchant guards went to relax, gripe about their employers, and look for more work. Several months ago, however, the Vizio patriarch passed away, and the surviving family moved out of Westcrown to go live with kin in distant Corentyn.

DC15 Knowledge: Local or Diplomacy - RE: Vizio's:

The place has new owners reputed to be a half-elf man and a human woman - although they seem to be taking their time getting the tavern off the ground and open for business.

As you all arrive, Janiven greets you with a smile and a drink, acknowledging that she is, indeed Janiven and she's grateful for your arrival. "But I'm afraid we must wait a bit longer before we begin discussing why we're all here - I'm expecting one more..." she says, when pressed for more information.

After all are gathered and have introduced themselves, Janiven brings out a steaming pot of soup and a plate of a dark, rye bread. She sets them on the table and returns with bowls and spoons. "Here you go - it's not much, but it's my mum's recipe. I think I mostly got it right..." she says, before returning to the bar and absentmindedly wiping it down with a kerchief while occasionally glancing out the windows.

Stanley and anyone with Sense Motive DC15:

You get the sense that Janiven is sincere, but unnerved. She's being truthful, but something is bothering her.


Female Elf Alchemist 1 | HP 12/12 | AC 15, touch 12, flatfooted 13 | CMD 15 | Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 (+2 ench) | Init +2

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (3) + 0 = 3

Enera tries to tell what spell Iolana cast: Spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

"Thank you," the elf says politely. But after Janiven turns away, she looks at the food skeptically. The tavernkeeper's words would make her skeptical about the fare at this tavern even without the suspicion over this entire situation, and she is not sure whether Iolana has just done something to it or not. This isn't the place for a detailed analysis of the soup's chemical composition, but after a few intense seconds of scrutiny, Enera decides it looks safe to eat, at least.

Having failed her Spellcraft check, Enera uses her detect poison spell-like ability on the food. Presumably, even if it was poisoned, it won't be now.

She pours soup for everyone, including herself, and passes the bowls around. Practiced at the pouring and measuring of ingredients, Enera manages to make everyone's bowls come out to exactly the same level.


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2

Lucina is happily oblivious to all the suspicious side glances and watchful stares, and has already determined that all those gathered here must be goodly and rightful people. She hums a well-known drinking song to herself as the others introduce themselves as well, and she grins widely when a mug of ale is pressed into her hands... and then blessed. The paladin arches an eyebrow at Iolana's prayer; it was a familiar gesture from Nic, particularly when he got in a new shipment of imported brews... Is she also a follower of Cayden Cailean?

"I'm surprised to see people with such open faith," Lucina remarks idly just as food is served, and hence the thought is lost completely. "Ooh! It looks great, Janiven!" Iolana no doubt interrupts with a purification before she can dip the bread into the broth, and Lucina waits (reasonably) patiently for the all-clear. The obvious meticulousness (or, perhaps, OCD?) of the elven woman is rather amusing, though.

"I've been working all day," she says conversationally as she ladles a hefty serving of the chunky soup onto the rye, "and haven't had a chance to eat much more than a bite..."


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

Enera gets to the bowls and ladle first, cutting Leeka off as she was also about to serve everyone. A flash of annoyance crosses her face, followed quickly by embarrassment and an awkward smile. She holds her bowl out as one very unaccustomed to anybody ever serving her.


Male Human Hex Channeler Hedge Witch 1 (AC/Mage Armor: 12/16 [T: 12 FF: 10/14] | HP: 6/6 | F+0, R+2, W+3 | Init: +2 |Perc: +1/+3 [Vesnik: +5])

Spellcraft on Iolana 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
on Enera (if it works on Spell-like abilities) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Stanley eyes everyone nervously as they begin throwing around spells and prayers, comforted by the first one, but still wary of the elf's actions. He decides to accompany them in eating, but first he takes a small hunk of bread and rubs it between his hands to break it down to small crumbs. This he offers with his left hand to Vesnik, while he spoons the soup to his mouth with his right. He takes only a few quick bites as a show of trust and solidarity.

He begins by clarifying his faith, "Why should I not be open with my following of Pharasma? Akin to both birth and death, she is everywhere. Even the powers that be here in Westcrown know her portfolio is pervasive, and unaffiliated with any cause beyond ensuring that life begins and ends only when it supposed to do so."

Turning to their host, he looks at her concernedly, "First, milady, I must thank you for your hospitality. I am certain, however, that you did not ask us here just to offer us a warm meal. There is worry in your features, why is it you fret?"

Diplomacy 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

"Oh,--" Lucina hurriedly swallows, choking a little as she does so too quickly, "No, no worries, uh, I'm not complaining! I'm just... not used to it." She quietens for a moment, the ever-pervasive smile fading as she succumbs to pensiveness. "It is hard to be open about that kind of thing when you've had to hide it for so long," Lucina murmurs, fiddling with the golden locket around her neck.


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric (Crusader) 3
Stats:
HP: 22/22 | AC/T/FF: 19/10/19 | Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +6 | CMD: 13 | Init: +1 | Perc +3, Sense Motive +3 | Channel Remaining: 3/5

Iolana twitches her shawl slightly tighter around her shoulders, to cover the pendant around her neck. "What faith would a scion of House Tilernos have to hide?" she asks archly, regarding the young woman--a girl, really--coolly. "There is no reason to hide a faith in Cheliax, so long as it does not contravene the teachings of Asmodeus." Her mouth twists bitterly.

She turns to Janiven. "I must echo Stanley's question, though--we have little time if we're to get home before the curfew. Why have you gathered us here? I doubt it is for any idle purpose."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

At the mention of Asmodeus, Leeka repeats a standard benediction, completely unconsciously by rote. Once she realizes what she's done, she worriedly looks at her dinner companions, and slinks a little lower in her chair.


Male Human Rogue | AC 15 T 12 FF 13 | HP 8/8 | F +0 R +5 W +0 | Init +2 | Perc +4

Knowledge: Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

"Here here, Iolana! Let us toast all faiths in no fear."

Seeing the slip slink lower and noting the unease of the host, he stands, raising his cup and offering a toast.

"Yes, even he can receive this toast, little one."

He smiles broadly, simply enjoying the company and the odd situation he has found himself in.

"Fear is a great danger, my friends. Living in fear does little to help you, and much to harm you. We all know a few things about that, by the sounds of things."

He takes a small portion of the bread and soup together and, finding to his liking, promptly takes another bite.


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

Lucina turns to Iolana, blinking in confusion and appearing a little taken aback by the other woman's tone of voice. Did I do something to offend her? she wonders, feeling a touch hurt all the same.

She does her best to struggle on through unaffected by Iolana's apparent mistrust. "Well, yeah, that's what I mean, right? As long as you're toeing the line, it's fine, but for those of us--" Lucina casually chucks that one in, hoping Iolana might pick up the in-group suggestion, "--that might not... agree with certain tenets of the Asmodean doctrine, well... it's difficult. Very difficult!"

Tervon offers up a toast at that point, and now that's something Lucina can get behind. Her smile quickly returns as she gathers up her mug of ale and clanks it against the others' glasses. "A toast, yes! In Cayden's name--" The automatic aphorism slips from her tongue unbidden, and Lucina mentally kicks herself for the mess-up. "--and, uh, all the others, of course." Lucina takes a healthy swallow of the brew at that point, watching the others over the rim of her mug and nodding along to Tervon's words about fear.


The soup is salty, bland and a little burned - but it is edible. Janiven listens in to your conversation, but doesn't join in. She nods in agreement as appropriate, but largely seems preoccupied with the bar. When asked why she seems nervous, she looks momentarily agitated before calming herself. "Shadow beasts stalk the unlit streets after dark." she explains. "I merely want to keep an eye out. Our meeting won't keep you out after dark, but should anyone require lodging tonight, I'm sure arrangements could be made."

Once dinner is over - or at least you've finished eating - and with still a few hours to go before sundown, Janiven locks the front door and shutters the windows, then takes a deep breath and thanks you all for attending the meeting. Pulling a chair up to the table, she again assures you that you’ll be done in less than an hour, with plenty of time left over for everyone to get home before sunset.

“Again, thank you for agreeing to meet with me here. We...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, and yet each night brings fear to our doorsteps. Yes, Westcrown has been safe from war and famine for nearly seventy years, and yes, our businesses has prospered—but this safety and prosperity has been bought in the coinage of fear and prayers to Hell. Other lands live free from tyranny. Other cities do not fear the night. Other governments do not cede the streets to monsters of the infernal shadows. Westcrown was once such a place, and she wants to be such a place again. Westcrown is not only her buildings and canals and docks and history—she is also her people. Westcrown is our friends and neighbors, our mothers and fathers, our siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters! With but a small group of supporters and dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of those people. A Westcrown free of these shadowy beasts that stalk our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!”

Her speech is short, but delivered with great passion. It is also treason. You all know a friend of a friend - or perhaps even someone closer - who was taken away and executed for far-less inflammatory speech.

She leans back in her chair, meeting eyes with each of you, but saying nothing more. She nervously glances toward the door again, before turning her attention back to your group.


Male Human Rogue | AC 15 T 12 FF 13 | HP 8/8 | F +0 R +5 W +0 | Init +2 | Perc +4

"What you say is true, Janiven. My uncle, when I was but a promising young stage actor, before the murder-plays and other debauchery started taking our young actors by storm, he was taken in the night. A runner saved myself and my mum, and I recall the fear my mother showed when we suddenly had to hide each evening."

He thinks a moment. Before looking to the others.

"So, while I am but a humble actor and street performer, I would be honored to help remove fear from our streets. I do not believe that the House of Thrune will give up so easily. I also believe we will lose loved ones over this."

He bows his head, collecting the next thought for a moment,

"But some of us already have. Some of us obviously fear some sort of retribution, either from a master, as our little slip here does, from the church, as a couple of us do, or, simply, to be listed as an untouchable in their chosen profession, as I do. Taking back the night takes one of the elements of fear away. Even better, by doing this we all benefit, the whole town does. Imagine, business after dark in a tavern! My uncle used to tell stories of such things, and, by his description it was wonderful."

Looking across the table, standing back up and leaning in,
"So, who's ready to stop being afraid of the dark?


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

Leeka, torn between a desire to cheer and her programmed nature to run and turn this group in, settles for following Jeniven's nervous glances. "Are you expecting trouble, Jeniven, or are we waiting for another member of this group of injured souls?"


"Well said, Tervon!" Janiven responds, looking expectantly towards the rest of the group before allowing herself another glance towards the door. Caught by Leeka, she responds, "Oh, no trouble...no trouble. I apologize for rudeness." In an effort to calm herself, she turns completely away from the door.


Female Elf Alchemist 1 | HP 12/12 | AC 15, touch 12, flatfooted 13 | CMD 15 | Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 (+2 ench) | Init +2

Enera takes this opportunity to openly look at the door, as if expecting to see a Hellknight standing right there. Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

Turning back to Janiven and Tervon, she frowns. "You're right, both of you. And yes, this does sound dangerous. If what I wanted most in the world was safety, I'd walk out of here right now. But I am not a slave to fear," she says solemnly.


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric (Crusader) 3
Stats:
HP: 22/22 | AC/T/FF: 19/10/19 | Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +6 | CMD: 13 | Init: +1 | Perc +3, Sense Motive +3 | Channel Remaining: 3/5

Iolana is caught off-guard by Lucina's toast to Cayden. Worship of that god is forbidden in Cheliax...perhaps there is more to this girl than her parentage suggests. Or perhaps it's a double-bluff... Before she can address it, though, Janiven begins speaking, and Iolana finds herself rapt in delight.

"Well said," Iolana hisses softly, standing and grasping Janiven's forearm in an iron grip when the speech is done. "I will stand by your side and see Wiscrani men and women freed from bondage. By the prick of the Everbloom's thorns, I swear that I will tear down the devils that control Westcrown--and after them, the taskmasters of all Cheliax!" She slams a fist into the table in delighted exhilaration.


Male Human Rogue | AC 15 T 12 FF 13 | HP 8/8 | F +0 R +5 W +0 | Init +2 | Perc +4

Smiling at the reactions so far,

"Perhaps, Iolana, but first we must free ourselves to work. We cannot do all of this in broad daylight, although that would be preferable, it would get us all killed within hours. We must work carefully."

Looking to Janiven, his face becomes a bit more serious as he sits himself down.

"So, Janiven, what is your plan? How do we tear down the walls and rebuild into something better?"


Male Human Hex Channeler Hedge Witch 1 (AC/Mage Armor: 12/16 [T: 12 FF: 10/14] | HP: 6/6 | F+0, R+2, W+3 | Init: +2 |Perc: +1/+3 [Vesnik: +5])

Sense Motive when Janiven speaks about why she's nervous 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12. She's too dismissive, then again the roll tells me it could just be nerves.

Stanley speaks, surprised by what he hears, and in a somewhat berating tone. "Fear may be dangerous, but living without fear is even more so. The presence of fear is not the issue. It is whether the fear controls you, or you control and face your fears. Let us not stand up on the chairs and tabletops, spouting our dissent and grand plans against the authorities and reigning bodies. If you want to foment change, it is not done with bold statements, and proclamations of dying for a cause."

He huffs, before calmly continuing, "I feel the blight that infects the city, and I see it in the eyes and hearts of my patients. They live in fear, they die in fear, it consumes them and eats away at the souls that meet Her in the Boneyard. I will do what work needs to be done to wrest this pain from them, but I will do so while maintaining my own anonymity. If you lot are going to start belting out curses and righteous causes, then do so out of earshot. There is nothing wrong with fearing the repercussions, as long as it guides you to cautious behavior over recklessness, just don't let it beat you down. Tervon is right, if we are to do anything we must be much more careful going forward from this point."

If it's easier, I'll add my Sense Motive in my stat bar above, but Stanley believes everyone lies (kind of like House). It's just a matter of why they are lying. So he is going to question anything anyone says to him until they earn his trust. So far, she seems trustworthy to him, but everything about a secret meeting by a under the table rabble-rouser has him questioning the veracity of her every word.


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

"No, definitely at night, shadow beasts or no," Leeka adds quietly.


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

Though the soup is by no means the best she's had, Lucina is happy to be eating something, and makes no sign that it's anything but top chef material. It was clear to her that Janiven had put work into making it, after all—and besides, who would turn down free food?

However, as Janiven begins her treasonous speech, Lucina carefully places her spoon in the soup bowl, forgotten for the moment. Her eyes widen in shock—the conversation about religious beliefs thus far had been dangerous, more than enough to get them arrested and thrown away for life, but that...? Janiven was practically asking to be cut down in the street for that.

...and it excited her. Lucina fidgets in her chair, a grin creeping unbidden onto her lips. Was this... could this be... had the perfect opportunity to unshackle the city from its horrible masters finally arrived?

"There's no way I could turn you down after that," Lucina remarks, resting one elbow on the table and leaning her cheek on it. "You're gonna get yourself into some serious trouble, and there's no way I'd let you stick it out without help."

Though Nic's gonna kill me when he finds out, she thinks to herself with an internal cringe.

"... but these guys are right. This isn't something you can just bluster your way through. This is something that needs far more than a shot of whiskey for courage and a prayer to Desna for luck. Not even I'd be willing to do something so stupid." Lucina chuckles to herself. "But... I'm tired of the way the city is. This isn't how Westcrown used to be. This isn't the place that I was taught about as a child... this isn't the city I love. This is some... some messed up nightmare."

"So," she says firmly, her jawline tightening in her determination, "I'll do whatever it takes to make it all better, so long as you've got a plan. I left my family to do change the world, but it's been hard to do anything alone... I've gotta make big on what I told my parents I was gonna do a few years back, to make all this worth it."


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric (Crusader) 3
Stats:
HP: 22/22 | AC/T/FF: 19/10/19 | Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +6 | CMD: 13 | Init: +1 | Perc +3, Sense Motive +3 | Channel Remaining: 3/5

"We must move carefully, of course," Iolana says fiercely, "but our cause is just, and I have no doubt that the Everbloom's grace lies on us. Work to avoid the rebellion's exposure, aye, but never fear the tyrant's lash. What is the plot, Janiven? When do we meet again? Or is there a plan to set into motion now?"


"Yes, of course, discretion and caution is critical," Janvien responds to Stanley, clearly growing excited that despite everyone being strangers, a unified voice seems to be taking shape.

She nods approvingly at Lucina's speech and considers Iolana's questions before responding."We've taken a great risk calling you all together at one time. But these types of meetings are necessary for the steps to come. We have discreet spots around that we can leverage, but I'm getting ahead of myself. To begin, we will..."

A sudden excited pounding at the front door interrupts Janiven. Jolting upoward and adopting a defensive posture, Janiven peers through a window at whoever’s knocking, then swiftly moves to the door, unlocks it, and opens it. In stumbles an out-of-breath and frightened-looking teenager “They’ve got Arael!” he calls out, before immediately doubling over in a fit of coughing.

Janiven’s face grows grim. "Calm down, Morosino. Breathe. Now then...explain yourself. What do you mean? Who has him?"

After a few more gasps, Morosino blurts out, “The dottari nabbed Arael, and the Hellknights of the Rack are trying to get custody of him! There’s a bunch of Hellknights on their way here now! I only just made it in here; they’ve already surrounded us!”

At that point, the sound of clanking armor advancing on the tavern becomes apparent. Yet Janiven remains calm. "I fear I have put you all in great danger," she says. "I am so sorry." Again she is interrupted by a hammering on the doors.

"Come out! By the order of the Rack, we command that all occupants of the tavern come out at once!" a booming voice commands from the other side of the door.

Springing to action, Janiven runs to the back of the tavern, whispering for you all to follow. She and Morosino swiftly behind the bar, where they lift up a heavy trap door in the floor. As the pounding on the door increases, she breathlessly whispers, "This shaft drops down into the Westcrown sewers. By fleeing along this route, we should be able to lose the Hellknights quickly."

The following has happened in the span of about :45 seconds. Feel free to respond at any point during the above, but we're currently waiting to see whether or not you go down the rabbit hole...


Female Human (Varisian) Cleric (Crusader) 3
Stats:
HP: 22/22 | AC/T/FF: 19/10/19 | Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +6 | CMD: 13 | Init: +1 | Perc +3, Sense Motive +3 | Channel Remaining: 3/5

Iolana hesitates only a split second, wondering if she might be able to invoke Milani's grace to aid in their escape--or if, unarmed and disguised as she is, she might be able to bluff a way out at least for herself. But she quickly discards these options and dashes toward the trap door, lowering herself in.


Female Human (Chelaxian) Paladin 2
Stats:
HP: 22/22 || AC: 18, touch: 14, flat-footed: 14 || CMD: 17 || Fort: +7, Ref: +6, Will: +4 || Init: +5 || Perception: -1

When someone starts banging at the door, Lucina immediately jumps to her feet, losing her relaxed (but excited) mood in an instant as she reaches for her rapier. She calms--slightly--when Janiven allows the boy inside, but remains tense as the situation unfolds.

"Didn't think we'd hit the 'serious trouble' part so soon," Lucina whispers with a shake of her head, hurrying after Janiven and Morosino behind the bar. Though she tries to remain as quiet as possible, the rapid-fire beating of her heart sounds almost like the clash of drums and cymbals--would even that alert the Hellknights to their presence?

"Go," she breathes, nervously looking over her shoulder at the front door. How long would the simple lock there last? "I'll bring up the back!" Lucina will not leave until everyone else is safely down the trap door.


Male Human Hex Channeler Hedge Witch 1 (AC/Mage Armor: 12/16 [T: 12 FF: 10/14] | HP: 6/6 | F+0, R+2, W+3 | Init: +2 |Perc: +1/+3 [Vesnik: +5])

Stanley just closes his eyes in frustration, briefly, as if not voicing the 'I told you so' he was thinking. He rises, and of all things, begins quickly clearing the dishes, "Someone help me with this. Hiding the number of diners can go a long way in reducing the number of suspects." After an expedient removal of all the signs of their numbers, he makes haste to the trap-door, and reluctantly climbs in knowing what he does about the health risks within such a place.


Male Human Rogue | AC 15 T 12 FF 13 | HP 8/8 | F +0 R +5 W +0 | Init +2 | Perc +4

Shortly after helping Stanley, Tervon climbs into the trap door. Making sure he can see a little bit, he rushes through the sewers with the others, desperately wishing he had brought at least one sunrod.

While dungeoneering may be the best skill, knowing where a human-sized drain opening would be something a local, street performer might know. Trying to think of a way to get out of the sewers as soon as possible.

"Let us make haste, friends, for they will soon to find us in the sewers if we don't find a turn soon."


Male Human Hex Channeler Hedge Witch 1 (AC/Mage Armor: 12/16 [T: 12 FF: 10/14] | HP: 6/6 | F+0, R+2, W+3 | Init: +2 |Perc: +1/+3 [Vesnik: +5])

Sorry, forgot

As they drop down into the dark, Stanley says a short prayer, while tracing the pattern of the spiral he wears. "Lady of Graves, grant me the light to guide lost souls." When he finishes it begins to glow with the brightness of a torch, but the pale grey light that it produces lacks any sense of warmth.

Cast Light on his holy symbol, and he will maintain/keep casting it as long as they are in the dark.


Female Elf Alchemist 1 | HP 12/12 | AC 15, touch 12, flatfooted 13 | CMD 15 | Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 (+2 ench) | Init +2

Enera groans quietly. She stands up and sneaks over to the trap door, making as little noise as possible. When she gets to it, she takes a look down. "But it's filthy down there," she mutters. Not that she has much of a choice. She glances at the door, knowing who's behind it.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice Enera can't explain roars for her to strike at them - to throw herself at the Hellknights with fury and anger, to tear them apart, to fight to the death if need be. But it's just a momentary impulse. The rational side of her wins out in only a few quick seconds, and turns back to the shaft leading to the sewers. She hops down - though not before drawing her longsword.


VP: 8/8, WP: 30/30, WP Threshold: 14 AC: 18 (touch 15, FF 13); CMD: 13 (+2 to AC and CMD vs goblinoids)| F/R/W: +3/+6/+2 (+2 vs fear)

Leeka yelps as the Hellknights call out, and makes it halfway to the door to let them in before she shakes some sense into herself.

While the others grab up the dishes, she quietly places a few chairs right in front of the door, and then follows the others into the trapdoor.

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