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The Fourth Crusade

Game Master Desriden

The Fourth Crusade is a high-level adventure tied to the Worldwound and Mendev in the Golarion setting.


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The smell of fresh-brewed coffee and light, flaky pastry wafts through the mansion. While the majority of the occupants don’t need to eat, the translucent kitchen staff still prepares five meals a day to accommodate uncertain schedules and the occasional guest.

The past few days have featured the lighter meals typically found in Galt. Warm croissants and rough artisan breads fill the kitchen counter along with salted butter, preserved jams and jellies. A stone cup of fresh cream sits in a bowl of chilled water alongside a pitcher of milk and two carafes of orange juice – one with pulp and one without.

The ritual of breakfast, even if it doesn’t need to be eaten, helps establish a sense of time within the extra-dimensional space. The mansion, as magnificent as it is, has no windows to let in a breeze. The servants make sure to wind the imposing grandfather clock in the foyer, but it’s easy to lose track of time without the warm touch of the sun.

Easy, that is, until a rather loud rapping begins to echo through the halls. It sounds like metal on wood, and it grows more and more insistent as time passes. It’s coming from the front door, the link between your peaceful abode and the city of Kenabres on the front lines of the Fourth Mendevian Crusade.


M Human (Taldan) 1 Zen Archer

Thaddicus sits at the table eating his croissant with a knife and fork. His face, until the persistent knocking had a sublime expression, but as the knocking let it fall into a familiar sneer. His posture could be best described as half taut like a bow with the arrow nocked, but not fully drawn, always ready for action. He could have been nearly instantly at the door, but he was no servant. He continued to take small bites of his pastry, refusing to be interrupted.

This mansion with all of its amenities was hardly what he had grown up used to. Although the unseen servants were excellent in many respects, but the one thing they could not do was answer the door. As he placed the last of the flaky pastry in his mouth he took the time to finish chewing thoroughly. After he was done, he arose from his seat with the resolve to accompany whomever went to answer the door. He wouldn't do it himself of course, but he would be there in case the person knocking was hostile or of demon blood.

As he moved to the foyer, he muttered to himself, This had better be important, interrupting breakfast like this.


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

Darnak sits at the table, leaning back against his chair, his head down at an angle to where the brim of his hat covers his face. He takes a bite of the food placed before him, always one to enjoy a good meal.

The rapping on the door gets his attention as he lifts his head wondering who that could be. Looking over at Thaddicus, he shrugs, then returns to eating. I'll let the old man get that, he thinks to himself, not caring that he himself is getting up in age for one of his kind.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

Sparel had finished his morning ritual of spell preperation a few hours previous, he chose to come to breakfast. Though the ring on his finger prevented him from having to eat, he did enjoy a good pastry as he read. Today's selection was "Socal protocol in the mating habits of mountain dwarves, fifth edition with updated diagrams." It was a bit of an odd read, but Sparel enjoys exoteric knowledge. Sparrel was very much enjoying his morning constitutional as he walked and ate his pastry the book obidently floated a few feet in front of him as to not accidenlty get pastry jam on the precious item.

Then the banging started. The noise startled even the battle hardened high arcanist/high priest. He felt a sense of security in this place, knowing that no one and nothing could enter without his express premission. As he jumped at the initial noise, battle spells instinctively sprang to mind and as he prepared to unleash their fury. Realizing he was in no immediate danger he prevented the release of the magical energy. He was, however, annoyed then angry.

The book still floated nearby. Sparel calmed his anger long enough to Mentally will it towards a nearby servant saying, "Put this in the study on my desk, but leave it open to my page." The servant silently and delicatly carried the book away.

Then the annoyance returned.
"By the Goddesses bow, who the blazes would dare to attempt to summon me in such a manner!" Sparel yelled towards no one in particular as he stalks to the door.

As Sparrel is about to oepn the door he stops himself and has a seat on a nearby chair calmly looking bored as he allows the knocking to continue. As an explination to anyone who may give Sparel a look he simply says, "I wouldnt want to give them the impression that I am at their beck and call."
After about ten minutes Sparrel puts on his best "angry mage" face and opens the door, knowing that who or whatever it is cannot cross the threshold without his express permission. Sparel says nothing, but he stares daggers at whomever is on the other side waiting for them to explain themselves.


The front door to the mansion is invisible, but the welcome mat on the ground lets visitors and passersby how to avoid any accidental collisions. It also makes sure that anyone who wants to come in stands in the best spot to be seen by those inside.

On the mat stands a squire, 15 years old at most. He’s squinting against rain that a heavy wind seems to be blowing under his helm. His breastplate is old and polished often, if not well. The red tabard hangs limp because of the damp but you can still see the Light of the Sword, a downturned longsword with a golden hilt in a sunburst pattern. You recognize him as Jacob, one of many messengers used by paladins of Iomedae who make up the majority of the organized religious armies in Mendev.

Behind him, there’s a constant stream of troops rushing past, some still adjusting their armor as they hurry by. Many of these men and women should still be at morning prayers. A closer look makes it plain that some of them are murmuring words to the gods even as they head west, toward the border and the Worldwound.

When the door opens, the smell of churned earth and wet horseflesh charges into the foyer. The wind and rain fall short at the shimmering portal, unable to traverse the near infinite distance between the mansion and the material plane.

This minor bit of conjuration magic would normally impress a person the first time he saw it. Certainly, a translucent shape wearing an impeccable high-collar livery jacket standing beside an angry elven mage holding open an ornate oaken door to a warm and bright hall in the middle of a muddy field would make most grown men gawk.

But the look in the squire’s eyes makes it obvious he already was afraid before the portal opened. Still, the youth quickly bows his head in greeting.

”Sir, the demons attacked one of the wardstones during morning prayers,” Squire Jabob said. The magics of the manor clearly carry the crack in the boy’s voice. ”Everyone is being called to service. Baron Brougham requests the presence of you and your companions immediately.”

So soon as it’s obvious his words have been heard, the boy runs off to deliver his next message and avoid any additional wrath.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

Realizing the urgency, Sparels attitude quickly shiffts to one of concern, and not anger.

"Good work, boy. Go about your duties. We'll be assembled in two minutes."

Sparel turns back toward the foyer and yells in a magically enhanced voice so it booms through the entire extradimensional space. "TO ARMS!! Sevants, stop what you're doing and bring everyone their gear NOW!"

WIth that Sparel gathers his pack, straps on his sword, and prepares for battle.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

Slightly annoyed at himself for not planning for such an occurence, Sparrel chides hiimself internally, ::I really should install a bell or something for just such an occurence.::


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

As Sparel's voice booms throughout, Darnak sighs. Getting up out of his chair, he steps aside and pushes his chair back in place. Placing his hands within the folds of his robe, he waits for the "servants" to bring them their belongings. Time to go to work. Darnak spins his hat around out of ritual, (but is absolutely not necessary, seeing how the bill is completely circular) and moves to the front room.

Stretching himself out so as to be ready for what's to come, he then waits. Patience. Perserverance. Commitment. Never forget.


Male Human Cleric 3 - Unholy Barrister

Malak felt like he had just entered into his meditation when Sparel's voice came booming, quite unbidden; to interupt his rest. He'd stayed up well into the dark of night as was his want. It was the best time for him to train on the unsuspecting, unseen servants. He sighed as he pushed himself into a handstand from his seated position and rolled gracefully over to his feat.

Telepathy to Sparel:
Must you yell so cousin? Id much rather be awoken by a gentle nudge from one of these servants or better yet a pretty maiden. Never the less, I am quite awake now, unfortunately; and on my way.

He quickly dressed in his soft, travel leathers, spun Grimstiehl deftly in his palm before carefully placing it in his hidden wrist sheath, swept his coins and gems into a pouch that went easily into his other pouch that held the rest of his belongings and slid Razeredge home just behind his right hip. He looked longingly at the comfortable bed for just a moment before heading down the hallway as he whistled an old tune about a sailor and his love of drink...The Tides Pull on the Cork... if he remembered correctly. Smiling at the double entendre the title suggested he trailed off as he gained the mansion's entrance and felt the tension in the air. He hailed those gathered.

Well? Are we under siege?


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56
Malak Jaedoom wrote:

Malak felt like he had just entered into his meditation when Sparel's voice came booming, quite unbidden; to interupt his rest. He'd stayed up well into the dark of night as was his want. It was the best time for him to train on the unsuspecting, unseen servants. He sighed as he pushed himself into a handstand from his seated position and rolled gracefully over to his feat.

** spoiler omitted **

He quickly dressed in his soft, travel leathers, spun Grimstiehl deftly in his palm before carefully placing it in his hidden wrist sheath, swept his coins and gems into a pouch that went easily into his other pouch that held the rest of his belongings and slid Razeredge home just behind his right hip. He looked longingly at the comfortable bed for just a moment before heading down the hallway as he whistled an old tune about a sailor and his love of drink...The Tides Pull on the Cork... if he remembered correctly. Smiling at the double entendre the title suggested he trailed off as he gained the mansion's entrance and felt the tension in the air. He hailed those gathered.

Well? Are we under siege?

Malak:

:: When we're not at war I'll have a zaftig (plump) awaken you with her breasts, but in the mean time get your ass along with that sword. Demons are at the gate. ::


At the mage's call, the 26 liveried servants quickly float throughout the mansion. They gather arms and armor, haversacks and money pouches. Five translucent servants attend each of you, while the remaining one with the high collar seems to be supervising their work. Bowls of fresh water for shaving and large bottles of scented perfume float amongst your weapons of war, along with slices of bread for those still finishing breakfast.

Soon enough, each of you are presentable and ready to face the dangers ahead.


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

Darnak turns to Malak, the bill of his hat pulled down, making it difficult to see his scarred visage. He shrugs in response and turns back, continuing to mentally prepare himself.


Male Human Cleric 3 - Unholy Barrister

Malak's grin spread even further at his cousins description of promises to come. He actually preferred his...well, let's not dwell on such things at this point in time. Shall we?...

Looks like its back to work eh, fellows?


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

"the ward stone was attacked At morning prayer. "

Extended mind link on the gathered group.

With that Sparel exits the mansion and enters the rain, heading to the baron.


M Human (Taldan) 1 Zen Archer

Thaddicus watched the hurrying with bemusement having been ready since before the door was answered. He smiled at his fellow soldiers and followed along. After the mindlink was cast, he used telepathy to give them all a quick message.

"Let's go kill my in-laws."


Male Casrua. Inquisitor 20/Ranger10(gestalt feat)/Nature's Warden7(prestigious)

I am here, just at work and can't catch up just yet


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

Darnak nods in agreement to Malak, and then smiles at the old man's quip as he steps out of the magical palace. Looking to the landscape in front of them, Darnak peers as if staring beyond the wind and rain, prepared for the reality of this being their last dance. Wouldn't have it any other way. He pulls the front of his hat just a bit lower, situates his cloak, and follows the others through the rough weather.


None of you have meet Baron Gregory Brougham of the Exchequer personally. He handles matters of money and property law in Kenabres, especially anything related to war material and payments to troops and mercenaries. The office of the Exchequer makes sure that all the treasures seized by the holy armies is checked for curses, properly appraised and then disbursed to where it will do the most good.

Armies working with Mendev but not under its direct control are expected to pay a tithe of what they seize to help the war effort and repay the service extended to them. You know this doesn't always happen in a timely fashion.

As such, you normally turn in writs and receipts to some of his staff, who in turn give you your payments. Each major Mendev settlement or holy army encampment has a member of the Exchequer’s office. Baron Broughham answers to Thomas Paulet, Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer for Queen Galfrey in Nerosyan.


Male Human Cleric 3 - Unholy Barrister

The dusky skinned elf returned the taciturn dwarf's nod as he stepped out into the rain. The cool drops were refreshing on his bald head adn he left the cowl of his cloak down as they walked.

...its good to be at task again...

This thought brought him to ask -

The ward stone you say? And at morning prayer? Some beings have absolutely no couth whats so ever.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

fyi telepathic bond will last for 5.66 hours.

Even if we've not met I imagine we have some idea where his headquarters is. We'll go there.


Male Casrua. Inquisitor 20/Ranger10(gestalt feat)/Nature's Warden7(prestigious)

Akor was in his room, taking basic target practice to keep his skills honed. It wasn't overly challenging, but he did it more to think and focus than any need to hit the target. When the knocking and subsequent yelling occurred, he actually missed. Cursing, he steps out his room to get a full report. Once he knows what's going on, and they must head to battle once more, he readies himself. As is often the case, the inquisitor doesn't let the servants help him, much preferring to arm himself, by himself. He sometimes caught a bit of grief for that from some of the others, but he didn't care.

Slinging Windstrike on his back and placing Demonwrack in its sheath on his hip, he grabbed up his shield and donned his cloak. Meeting the rest of the group outside he says "Demons, huh? Sounds like fun. I hope they provide a bit of a challenge this time. That last group we fought didn't even last five minutes. Let Iomedae smile upon us this day!


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

Darnak, his head angled slightly toward the ground as Akor shows up brimming with confidence, can't help but think to himself, That Akor, always the cheery one. Darnak grins. Ya cannot help but like the lad.


By the time everyone is ready to leave, the storm is much worse. Black clouds crowd the sky. Rain comes down in sheets. The constant traffic of horses, carts and armored troops has churned the main path into a mud trough that tries to swallow people’s boots with each step.

The mansion door opens up outside the walls of the city in the main supply camp. Here, camp followers and sutlers ply their wares. Wives offer to mend shirts and shine boots in exchange for a few coins to make things easier for their husbands, sons and daughters. Those who know where to look can buy everything from new uniform buttons before inspection to demon teeth here.

Today, most everyone is helping pack up and move out as best they can in the muck and the wet.

Insert sound of dice rolling here:
Darnak 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (1) + 19 = 20
Akar 1d20 + 30 ⇒ (11) + 30 = 41
Sparel 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (8) + 24 = 32
Malak 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (6) + 24 = 30
Thaddicus 1d20 + 48 ⇒ (15) + 48 = 63

Base DC 15 +5 terrible conditions +5 distracted +5 for 50 feet of distance = DC 30

A particularly hard gust of wind keeps Darnak from hearing two people trying to talk quietly near a tent about 50 feet to the east of the main path. Everyone else can make out the conversation between the two. One of them is a rough looking man with a dirty tunic holding a bottle with no label. The other is a halfling, standing inside the flaps of his rather large tent.

"If I'm going to die today, it damn well won't be while I'm sober. Now get me some of the good stuff, not this rotgut," the man says.

The halfling looks uneasy as he says, "A steady arm helps as much as steady nerves in battle. Let me give you a nerve tonic instead. Or some Qat."


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

Sparel steps out into the rain without a hat as he was in a hurry. As he sloughs through the mud and rain it does momentarily touch him, but none of it sticks for more than about half a second. The entire effect makes it appear as though the rain and muck simply goes around him. He does this commonly and it's why some say with equal parts fear and awe that "He walks through the raindrops." Frankly, its a minor trick that he's learned to do almost unconsciously. (aka Prestidigitation clean/dry)

Paying no heed to the men's questionable habits Sparel walks directly up to the pair and askes with a sense of authority and urgency, "Do either of you know which wardstone was attacked or where Baron Brougham is? We are needed." The We seems to imply everyone, but he'll let the men draw their own conclusions.


Male Human Cleric 3 - Unholy Barrister

As the rain increased; Malak pulled the cowl up to cover his head. He glanced jealously at his cousin who never got wet and smiled conspiratorially at Akor. He laughed aloud at the men and women offering to shine his boots in this weather and was just slightly interested in the apparent drug deal going down. He stayed near the back of the group and eyed the pair as Sparel spoke to them.

Sense Motive on the halfling - 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (5) + 20 = 25


M Human (Taldan) 1 Zen Archer

The uneasiness of the halfing causes Thaddicus to become suspicious. Of course, it doesn't take much these days. Information is key in war, and the more you have the more powerful you can become. Thad did not recognize seeing the halfling before and although that wasn't anything strange, he did tend to stay wary of unknown people and their suggestions.

Sense Motive roll 1d20 + 37 ⇒ (12) + 37 = 49


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

Oh, I almost forgot. Sparel's base speed is 50 thanks to longstrider cast daily and his clerical domain. He crosses the distance between himself in the men with minimal effort in about 3 seconds. He thinks absolutely nothing of this, though it may be startling to the men who thought they were alone enough to have a private drug deal. ;-)


Just to be clear, the description of buyers and sellers was how things normally are. Today, most everyone was packing up except for the drug deal. But yeah, a few probably did try to make money off you since you don't appear to be leaving yet.

The man half turns toward Sparel, trying to slide the bottle out of sight in the rain. There's a sneer on his face, but it relaxes a bit when he see none of you look like paladins.

"Everyone's been ordered to the one nearest town. But we saw balls of fire arching across the ward line further down the horizon."

That said, the man turns to go west away from you and toward the mass of troops. You can tell he's one of the low templars sent to fight here, not part of any organized religious unit.

The halfling simply points down the main path to the exchequer's office. His directions match what you already knew. Thaddeus, you can tell he seems relieved once the buyer turns to leave, but still a bit anxious since everyone is staring at him.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

"So Gents, to the battle or to the Buercrat? I imagine the duke can give us his official opnion after we drive the demons back."

WIth that Sparel makes haste toward the "balls of fire arching across the ward line." How far exactly is that? Is it running distance or should we just teleport?

What do I know about the nature of the magic in the wards? Can I fix them or something like that?


The ward line surrounds the entire country of Mendev and makes the border along the Worlwound. You know the Storm Lord, the new balor leading the bulk of the demons, damaged a ward stone in the attack that started this new crusade. But that was further south. And the fireballs were further north.

The ward stones are all that keeps the demons from marching across the the whole planet. The artifacts are maintained by different holy orders and have fortresses built around them. You cannot create one and you cannot repair one by yourself. There are entire orders devoted to each ward stones to maintain it.

Here's what else you know about them. Wardstone link

As for the baron, he is not in charge of military forces but the supplies. He's also the person who makes specific assignments to adventuring groups and the like. You can do whatever you wish. But he's the only who makes sure you get paid for jobs. Otherwise, volunteering to fight demons is an honor are good men can share.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56
GM_Arbiter wrote:

The ward line surrounds the entire country of Mendev and makes the border along the Worlwound. You know the Storm Lord, the new balor leading the bulk of the demons, damaged a ward stone in the attack that started this new crusade. But that was further south. And the fireballs were further north.

The ward stones are all that keeps the demons from marching across the the whole planet. The artifacts are maintained by different holy orders and have fortresses built around them. You cannot create one and you cannot repair one by yourself. There are entire orders devoted to each ward stones to maintain it.

Here's what else you know about them. Wardstone link

As for the baron, he is not in charge of military forces but the supplies. He's also the person who makes specific assignments to adventuring groups and the like. You can do whatever you wish. But he's the only who makes sure you get paid for jobs. Otherwise, volunteering to fight demons is an honor are good men can share.

Is he seriously not going to pay us if we fight the demons before talking to him? We're not exactly novices or unknown.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56

Edit's arent working for some reason.

Do we need to talk to him to make sure we're going to the right place? Seems to me that it would be well recieved to fight demons before talking to the book keeper. I'm not sure of the polotics though. My instinct is to just go fight the demons then settle up after, but given the polotical state would that be a huge mistake?


M Human (Taldan) 1 Zen Archer

:It is possible that the fight at hand is but a feint and we are actually needed somewhere else. Let us go to him to find out what he knows, it isn't as if we are slow in reaching battle lines:Thaddicus thought to his friends. Being covered in mud he still maintained his regal bearing and a bit of a smile on his face. He had trained extensively in adverse conditions, not the least of which was being berated by his wife. A measly storm such as this could not begin to dampen his spirits.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56
Thaddicus Marcaldor wrote:
:It is possible that the fight at hand is but a feint and we are actually needed somewhere else. Let us go to him to find out what he knows, it isn't as if we are slow in reaching battle lines:Thaddicus thought to his friends. Being covered in mud he still maintained his regal bearing and a bit of a smile on his face. He had trained extensively in adverse conditions, not the least of which was being berated by his wife. A measly storm such as this could not begin to dampen his spirits.

::"That is a good thought. Lets go see the Baron quickly to find out where we are most needed."::

We make haste to the baron's location.


Male Human Cleric 3 - Unholy Barrister

Plus we should be fashionably late to the battle I think. Make a grand appearance and then save the day just when all seems hopeless.

The elf said with a mischevious grin, a heroic pose and just a hint of sarcasm.


Male Casrua. Inquisitor 20/Ranger10(gestalt feat)/Nature's Warden7(prestigious)

Akor smiles broadly "I do so love a grand entrance, especially if they happen to involve explosions. And saving the day is to be expected, I mean we are the best after all."


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

Darnak just shakes his head, listening to the two with their devil-may-care attitudes. The normally quiet dwarf, even telepathically, can't resist projecting his thoughts this time. ::"Ya know, if arrogance was a weapon, th' both o' ya would be unstoppable.":: He thinks to them, smiling wryly.


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56
Darnak Deepstone wrote:
Darnak just shakes his head, listening to the two with their devil-may-care attitudes. The normally quiet dwarf, even telepathically, can't resist projecting his thoughts this time. ::"Ya know, if arrogance was a weapon, th' both o' ya would be unstoppable.":: He thinks to them, smiling wryly.

Sparel agrees. ;;"He has a point. Pride cometh before the fall."


Male Casrua. Inquisitor 20/Ranger10(gestalt feat)/Nature's Warden7(prestigious)

::"Please. It's not bragging if you can back it up, and we all can back it up. Besides, showing our confidence will bolster the morale of the rest of the troops."::


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56
Akor Scourgebane wrote:
::"Please. It's not bragging if you can back it up, and we all can back it up. Besides, showing our confidence will bolster the morale of the rest of the troops."::

::Eh:: SParel thinks. He's obviously already lost interest. ;-)


Male Casrua. Inquisitor 20/Ranger10(gestalt feat)/Nature's Warden7(prestigious)

::"One would think that with such a mighty intellect, you could come with a better come back than 'Eh'"::


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56
Akor Scourgebane wrote:
::"One would think that with such a mighty intellect, you could come with a better come back than 'Eh'"::

::"Perhaps this then; The pair of you seem to have reached a moral quandary where both have fragments of legitimate points, but neither has a whole picture. Historians, theolotists, and philosophers have dealt with for centuries. Many points are raised on both sides, however balance seems to be the key in this as it is with most things. As such their is nothing further that I can add to the conversation that hasn't already been covered for centuries. Sure I could rephrase and regurgitate, but what would be the point. Further, now is hardly the time. For your part if you'd like to educate yourself on the topic I have a number of volumes I can recommend, but I choose to not waste everyones time with such an in depth explanation and simply abbreviate with "eh" the classic signal for a mental shrug of nonchalance. If any of that confuses you in any way I can communicate slower using smaller words in whatever language is your preference.":: Sparel jests


Speed 40': Fly 50' Init +5; Perception +24;AC 20, T:11, ff:19, F+10, R+9, W+18(+2Ench); +2 SR 18; CMD17 HP: 56/56
Sparel Radtymah wrote:
Akor Scourgebane wrote:
::"One would think that with such a mighty intellect, you could come with a better come back than 'Eh'"::
::"Perhaps this then; The pair of you seem to have reached a moral quandary where both have fragments of legitimate points, but neither has a whole picture. Historians, theolotists, and philosophers have dealt with for centuries. Many points are raised on both sides, however balance seems to be the key in this as it is with most things. As such their is nothing further that I can add to the conversation that hasn't already been covered for centuries. Sure I could rephrase and regurgitate, but what would be the point. Further, now is hardly the time. For your part if you'd like to educate yourself on the topic I have a number of volumes I can recommend, but I choose to not waste everyones time with such an in depth explanation and simply abbreviate with "eh" the classic signal for a mental shrug of nonchalance. If any of that confuses you in any way I can communicate slower using smaller words in whatever language is your preference.":: Sparel jests

;;"Does that suit what you feel is a proper response from an intellect as vast as mine?";; Sparel continues to jovially chide


M Human (Taldan) 1 Zen Archer

::"This is such a good day":: Thad said with genuine feeling. But with his clothes sticking to him and his hair a mess and sticking to his neck, he looked more like a drowned cat than a noble warrior on the cusp of battle.


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1
Sparel Radtymah wrote:


Sparel agrees. ;;"He has a point. Pride cometh before the fall."

Darnak gives them that a look that says, 'I told you so'.

Akor Scourgebane wrote:
::"Please. It's not bragging if you can back it up, and we all can back it up. Besides, showing our confidence will bolster the morale of the rest of the troops."::

Darnak remembers back when he himself thought as such. ::"Ther' was a time I thought the same as yerself. I got me face beat in for it. Badly. O' course, I was young 'n stupid. Now I'm older 'n...":: He stops in mid-thought, realizing their about to face off with demons and Torag knows what else. Shrugging, Darnak realizes there's no need to continue.


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

As Sparel "responds" to Akor, Darnak can't help but think to himself, Like family, we are. He grins.

Thaddicus Marcaldor wrote:
::"This is such a good day":: Thad said with genuine feeling. But with his clothes sticking to him and his hair a mess and sticking to his neck, he looked more like a drowned cat than a noble warrior on the cusp of battle.

Darnak looks around, taking in the wind and the rain. His thoughts turn back to what their about to face, death being the kindest element of it all. ::"Aye, 'tis that, old friend. 'Tis that."::


Male Casrua. Inquisitor 20/Ranger10(gestalt feat)/Nature's Warden7(prestigious)

::"I said a better comeback, not a long winded, overly boring one that would have made me fall asleep were it not pouring out."::

In response to Thad's comment ::"It's always a good day when one goes to destroy a marauding band of demons."::


You hurry on toward the Exchequer’s office, a wooden warehouse built on the far east side of the city. The flagpole outside the front offices normally flies the blue-and-red checkered flag of Mendev with the twin shining blades of Iomedae. But it’s been taken down because the flag is not flown in the rain. It’s just as well, since the flagpole itself is bending a bit during the bigger gusts of wind.

Another squire greets you from behind the counter as you come in. She looks even younger than the boy who came to fetch you. She checks your names against a list and directs you toward a back office along the side of the warehouse. The building appears mostly deserted, but well lit from what appear to be magical points of light.

Sparal and Akor only, please:
You both can tell the lights are more than mere magical points of illumination. They are Lantern Archons floating in specially made grooves in the walls. There are enough of them to combine into multiple gestalts of magical power similar to large air elmentals should the building come under attack or be robbed.

You quickly reach the baron’s office; the door is open and you can hear him speaking.

”Viceroy Vintari knows his archers will be useless in this rain, and he demands more arrows? Tell that Taldoran dandy that he’ll get no more supplies from me until he pays the tithe! He knows the rules, and he’s wasting all our time with politics. Now go.”

An older squire runs past you, tucking several notes and requisitions for the front lines into a weather-proof satchel as he goes.

You walk into the room and the first thing you notice is the unusual shape. It’s actually part of the warehouse proper, with a high vaulted ceiling and many books on a few tables where all the accounting must be done. The back wall of the room is missing and you can see straight into the storage area, which is filled with crates, boxes, weapon racks, suits of armor and other magical items.

Diagonally from the door is Baron Gregory Brougham of the Exchequer on a raised bench that seats him at about chest height. The table in front of him is covered with a checkered cloth that appears magical. As you watch, exchange rates and equivalencies seem to slowly scroll around the edges. The process stops when the baron looks up at you.

The baron is old, in his 50s at least. There’s a long-healed scar running down his left cheek that seems like it would prevent him from growing a proper beard. As if to make up for that, he has a magnificent walrus moustache that has been waxed to perfection. Brougham is in full plate and the symbol of Iomedae is prominent on the chest as well as the hilt of his sword. That and his blue cloak mark him as one of the paladins of Mendev.

After a moment looking at all of you, Brougham says, ”About time you showed up! Now, my staff tells me you lot are sneaky when you want to be.”

He waits a moment for that to sink in and see if anyone objects to the characterization.


Male Dwarf Male Dwarf Monk (Monk of the Sacred Mountain) 1

Darnak hides himself behind the rest, (easy to do considering he's the shortest), pulling the front of his hat down a bit and crossing his arms, thinking none of them can really disagree with that statement.


Male Casrua. Inquisitor 20/Ranger10(gestalt feat)/Nature's Warden7(prestigious)

Akor grins a bit arrogantly."We show up exactly when we're needed, not a moment before, or after. And yes, we can be sneaky if necessary, which I'm guessing it is, otherwise you wouldn't have asked."

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