Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12, to read lips? Sense Motive 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15, any falsehoods?
Sand Lotus... The old scholar retreats into his mind palace to turn up where in the wide world he might have heard that term before.
Knowledge (nobility) 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16, Knowledge (history) 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17, Knowledge (local) 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29, Knowledge (religion) 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15
He doesnt seem to lie and his mouth movements do not make any sense to the old wizard.
He does however remember hearing of a slave in Isteroth who defied her masters, was arrested, overpowered her captors, was arrested again, fought her way through the fighting pits to become Grand Champion, fought her way free of the slave pens and disappeared into the desert sands to the north of her homeland. She resurfaced nearly a decade later, but has been mostly idle as far as the wizard knows.
...or perhaps not so idle.
So, just to avoid confusion, Thaegrin heard of the accomplished former slave referred to as Sand Lotus? Sand Lotus is her name?
Thaegrin puts a hand to his narrow chin. At length he shrugs. "Brilliant. Thank you, Ezkal. Now, can someone please get this corpse out of my room? Sergio, are you still with us?"
The body of Karthus seems to drag across the ground towards the door on its own, without anyone touching it. Wizard Variel raises his eyes to the Drolleye, and then Iskandarr. "It may be wise to burn the body, and while Sergio can carry it for you, he might need help with the fire..."
Karthus softly thumps as he is pulled limply over the threshold of the door. "I think that will be all," he says, lastly turning his eyes to the Halfblood. "Thank you."
"Oh, and Iskandarr, the preparations I asked of you this morning, I will need more for the morrow."
Bluff to pass secret message 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18
Thaegrin suggests that Iskandarr prepare more Scryings tomorrow.
As his associates dismiss themselves, he frowns at the bed. He doubted he would get any sleep tonight after that excitement.
I'm gonna go out on a limb here and ask for something odd: could I roll an Intelligence check for Thaegrin to make some logical conclusions that I, the player that does not have a 25 Int score, might be missing? Intelligence 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Woo, thanks dice...
Iskandarr nods his understanding. "I can accommodate that request,but do you have a moment?"
Thaegrin mutters something in his native tongue to the Halfblood.
"When Eonan sailed into port, I told this impostor-slave to make preparations for the five of us to set sail for Amerys in seven days. In truth, I intended us to depart tomorrow, and not by ship, but by cover of night."
Not sure how much to spell out, but Thaegrin was hoping Karthus would send some misinformation to his superiors about disembarking in a week, and snail-sailing to Amerys. Since someone in Amerysi command already knew Thaegrin was coming, better to give them a false arrival time than have them rush immediate preparations. Thaegrin plans to have Anga use his cloak to transport the lot of us to the Ached Islands just south of Amerys. There we can maybe sell some of the loot we have and gather some information before crossing into Amerys borders.
Indicating that the spymaster may go, Thaegrin nods to the Beast-Man and lowers himself into the chair at his desk. He listens.
Facion nods at the wizards words and says to the others before they depart. "It would do well to meet back here tomorrow, I will have something to share with you all." He nods again and makes his way towards the door, only at the last second slipping off to the side as the door shuts.
Perform (Act) 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Stealth 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (18) + 26 = 44
Anga is wanting to hide in the room to eavesdrop on Thaegrin and Iskandarr. Hiding so they can't see him! :D
|Tholan the Drolleye|
Tholan pauses to look over the body (Perception 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16) to see if anything of value has been missed, then grabs the body under one arm, and slings it up over his shoulder with a quietly exhaled curse. "No reason for any ceremony for this one, is there? Easily enough burned to ash." He walks toward the doorway, then pauses, turning back to those in the room. "Does anyone need any mending or care? No serious injuries sustained I hope. And should I move my quarters close by in case of any further trouble?"
Once everyone has left, Iskandarr looks at the wizard "V prípade , že sú sledovaní , by ste chceli , aby som hovoriť Draconic alebo jednoducho napísať , čo som videl , znova?" after a pause to confirm, Iskandarr continues however the wizard deems fit.
Translation "I went to scry vice Admiral Jonathan Trenton and what I saw was quite a grotesque sight. I saw a ship, swathed in blood and ichor, to the point where I could not tell you where the vice Admiral began and the lowliest deckhand ended. I know no animal could have wrought what I saw, but I have a hard time believing it was by physical strength, either."
After the others leave, Thaegrin makes no move for his writing equipment. His nod indicates that the Man of the Lake may speak. When he is finished, the old Feraweni frowns.
The draconic translator isn't working right now :(
"Fascinating. Thank you. I will meditate on this, and speak with you tomorrow. Good night."
Thaegrin is ready to call it a night and start the next day.
|Tholan the Drolleye|
Seeing no objection, Tholan leaves the room, heading downstairs and toward the edge of town. Finding a spot reasonably clear as far as his clouded eyes can see, he stretches his shoulders and murmurs, "May this task be done quickly, and the ale be plentiful." Cast Enlarge Person to dig faster. He then digs a pit several feet deep, taking care to heap dirt on any nearby plants or flammables, then tosses the body in. After lining the edge of the pit with stone, he spits on the corpse. "May the flames consume your body, and our Lord in Iron consume your soul." Cast Wall of Fire into the pit. Tholan stares into the flames for a minute, then turns away to let the flames die down and the pit cool, unslinging his blade from his shoulders and using the minute to let his blade dance in the light of the fire, then the embers, then finally the light of the moon.
Kicking the rocks onto the ash, Tholan jumps down and uses his increased weight and the covering of stones to crush the remaining bones to fragments, then climbs out and heaps dirt onto the stone.
Finally done, Tholan returns to town to find a large flagon of ale, then sleep.
The Ached Islands has an outpost and a good sized market. You can sell and buy most things there except slaves. The Islands are not Amerysi territoy, but they are heavily occupied and regulated. The Amerysi wish to absorb the island into their country and are leaving the matter to a vote of the island's elders. A vote that has been inconveniently delayed for various reasons.
Night passes peacefully and as the dawn break our heroes...
What's happening folks?
Prepared spells updated.
Thaegrin rises from his bed. His body felt rested, and his mind seemed somewhat clear. The events of the night before turn over in his head as he dresses and packs for the day. It reminds him of another nocturnal visitor -one he tasked to begin a drug trade in a port city to the south. A known resistance to the Emperor’s seizure of power. He idly wonders whatever happened to that pawn of the Silver Tabby.
His wonderings are short-lived as he sits down and pulls open his spellbook. It was imperative that he record the discovery he made last night. Long narrow fingers stop at a chapter with simpler incantations, and the arcane scholar jots down in his personal shorthand, along the margins of the chapter heading, just how exactly he was able to quicken the casting time of these easily-learned spells. Easily-learned, slowly mastered. He pauses when he is done, and contemplates the day ahead. Hopefully, a peaceful one. A day of travel, trade, and gathering of information. I would like to pass through the Ached Isles unnoticed…
Afterwards, he spends the next hour reviewing the incantations for which he anticipates a need.
Anga told everyone to meet him back here, so Thaegrin is content to wait for that meeting to happen.
|Tholan the Drolleye|
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Iron incarnate, it spins and weaves through battle leaving seeping stillness in the midst of chaos. The holes cut in lines don't fill, they remain gaping, crimson, soldiers shying away from the fallen. Utter destruction, the mass of blade and plate moves unchecked through lines of steel and flesh and life, and leaves only torn steel and broken flesh in its wake. The few blades which rise to meet it, or fall to strike at it, find no purchase in flesh or blood. The arms tear from the bodies which wield them, and soon there is only silence.
Tholan wakes with a song of war in his heart, his pulse beating the steady metronome's hammer of war. "A day to seek out the beginnings to new battles," he hums out in a low rumble. He find a seat in the room, and begins tending to his blade, cleaning and preparing it for the next battle. Power thrums beneath his fingers as he hones the blade, and the magic drained from the day before slowly flows back into his being. Blade tended and magic renewed, he looks to his armor and gear. This second set of armor... It served me well, but I can only wear one at a time. With a sigh, he resolves to sell it when possible, then stows and packs his equipment.
Prepared for the day ahead, Tholan leaves his room, and finds himself meat and bread and another flagon of ale to welcome the day. Pack secure and belly full, Tholan moves to the wizard's quarters.
|Ezkal the Ordo Hereticus|
Morning arrives without further incident.
Ezkal finds his manacles and is last to arrive at the wizard's room where a nonplussed slave is reporting that the man in charge of overseeing the company's preparation to make sail has vanished.
"How should we proceed master?" The bewildered man asks Thaegrin.
Iskandarr rises early in his quarters with a stretch and a yawn. Leaving the confines of civilization, he finds a peaceful place to sit and quiet himself in nature, to allow his soul to become renewed in the life and essence of the forest.
Having fed his soul, he made his way back to civilization and finds a suitable breakfast, then heads to Thaegrin's room.
"This is an island. Are you certain he is not hiding somewhere, shirking his duties? Was all manner of watercraft was counted and recorded? I hope we do not find ourselves one short." The court wizard indicates to the colleagues approaching his abode. "I have guests. Find a suitable replacement for the overseer. Appoint yourself, if you believe yourself up to the task. If the original overseer is discovered, clasp him in irons and use the replacement anyway. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful, but there is much to do today."
"Now go, please," he commands flatly. "There are many preparations for our respective roles. Do not disturb our meeting until the following day."
Now free of the simple distraction, Thaegrin is silent as the others enter his chamber. He trusts that they will take seating if it is desired. The wizard offers nothing to them, indeed, he is scarcely in the room. Event after event replays in his mind, recalling exact wordings of conversations past, as motes of light in space. His concentration splits and scours his library of knowledge for any connection, no matter how bizarre. Each connection draws a line, in his mind, to a memory, until a tangled web of information slowly forms. With a practiced breath to relax the tension building his neck, the scholar releases the third concentrator, into the scholastic arms of philosophy and logic. Thaegrin tasks the effort with charting the points and lines. The Inevitable Cartographer. A sequence is sought in the mapping, a formula by which to predict which cog will turn next, in the world that loosely follows the orders of nature and man.
Thaegrin is gonna retry that INT check. Intelligence 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Ignorant to those that enter the room, the old Feraweni stands stock still, staring fiercely at a plain wall. The back of a nearby chair is under a white-knuckled grip. The intensity of his facial expression toward a mundane wall seems a little odd, but then again, wizards are an odd folk.
Whoever RR is, is clearly toying with you. He or his agents brutally destroy Jathus Rudianos and Vice-Admiral Trinton yet sends an incompetent, single assassin to take out a powerful wizard?
This play by the King of Erenon...it is PERFECTLY timed. The country's economy takes hits from multiple places at once and he comes along to unite the factions and increase revenue streams.
The Rudianos house is collapsing and yet growing more powerful?
Amerys is growing bolder and the war with the northmen is coming to a close. Is it an alliance, a refocus, a change in target?
And how about that dragon from out of time? None of its kind seen in centuries and one just crosses your path then disappears?
Feel free to ask clarifying questions and/or make more rolls depending.
Damn this character, 'R.R.'... The first thing one needs to manipulate another is to understand their values, and here I know nothing. Save that he or she or they consider my confoundment worth their effort. Thaegrin's frown deepens, probing further. What if their plaything was taken away from them?
Knowledge (arcana) 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (6) + 16 = 22, Spellcraft 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (12) + 18 = 30, can Thaegrin manufacture a spell that conjures a believable copy of himself. A copy that can move, bleed, and die? And the corpse thereafter can linger long enough for a killer to confirm the kill? Or any other magical means to fake his death?
The court wizard broods over the politics of Erenon. In his last visit to Veir, in Jathus' company, he had hoped for an opportunity to display his wisdom to the new king, solely to be recruited into His Majesty's direct service. Though I doubt I would feel any more powerful than I do now, nor given so long a leash...
The player of Thaegrin fails to see how the Rudianos are growing more powerful. Familicide, loss of trade goods, and the Lady of the house has locked herself away from everyone, last we heard. Explain?
His mouth twists unpleasantly. The Drolleye's impatience for parley cut Thaegrin's negotiations short with the Umbral Dragon, but affixing blame solves little in this case. He still felt the pang of lost resources, having to give up a fortune in arcane writings to avoid becoming a forgotten afterthought in some far-flung edge of the jungle. What could it mean? Why did it choose to arrive in that place and time? What does the dragon's goals have to do with our own?
Knowledge (local) 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32, Knowledge (arcana) 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (2) + 16 = 18, are there any known centers of learning or knowledgeable experts on dragon lore, aside from the Grok'Toh tribes?
It occurs to the scholar that he intends to follow the elusive Halfblood through the Shadow Plane for a brief time.
Knowledge (arcana) 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (17) + 16 = 33, I think different kinds of dragons are attracted to different kinds of treasure. Is there a specific kind of treasure that Umbral Dragons prefer? Or can that roll get me anything else on what Umbral Dragons tend to do (other than randomly show up)?
Rusianos money supply must still be intact. Despite the hurt to trade and business, house resources have not been denied. Then there are the rumore of Lady Sorchas new found hungers...
Look into the simulacrum type spells and see what you can come up with. I am open to it.
Grok'Toh are the only ones rumored to be attmpting to breed dragons again. Maybe there's something in Thaegrin's forgotten ancestral home lands?
Foregoing the gleaming troves of their cousins, umbral dragons prefer dark treasures: works of sculpted basalt, obsidian weapons, and countless onyx gems. Although more particular, they range farther in pursuit of such treasures and even steal wildly valuable works of art, thus—though smaller—their troves are typically of approximately the same value of other dragons.
Deliberately sadistic, they enjoy the sounds of screaming meals, and actively seek out sentient prey, often striking travelers, small settlements, and even city walls under the cover of darkness. Unlike other evil-aligned wyrms, though, umbral dragons have the unusual ability to reach through the ether and strike as incorporeal creatures just as easily as material beings.
Perhaps some sacrificial slaves and assortment of treasures? A sentient undead creature? who knows?
More talk on the simulacrum later. Also: this.
Knowledge (local) 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18, how should the Grok'Toh be approached without getting killed or enslaved?
Knowledge (local) 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29, how is the precious and semi-precious stone market of Iched Island, specifically for basalt, obsidian, and onyx? Is there one?
Knowledge (planes) 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16, what language(s) are used on the Plane of Shadow?
Bump for the Thelkonlanders. Anga wanted everyone to meet him in Thaegrin's office the next day.
Grok'Toh have been known to entertain guests who bring "great offerings" to them and show the proper respect whilst there. They are also fond of challenges and any balking is taken as a sign of weakness.
Being the least regulated market near Amerys, the Bazaar of Iched Island has almost anything. It is even rumored that a thriving Black Market exists, but obviously there is no proof.
I know of no specific languages used more or less than on the Material Plane, but here is a blurb about it's inhabitants:
Just as the lands of Golarion have a twisted reflection on the Shadow Plane, the people do as well. The fetchlings are descended of humans who became trapped on Plane of Shadow long ago. They have become infused with its essence, and have yellow eyes, and no pigmentation in their skin. Fetchlings often serve as middlemen for planar travelers, and are the most populous race in their realm.
In many people's minds, the Plane of Shadow has very strong ties with undead and for good reason. At the core of the Plane of Shadow resides the Negative Energy Plane which causes the creation many of undead that exist with in the Shadow, including nightshades. Undead are not the only creatures found on the Shadow Plane. Other living inhabitants include shadow giants, and the infamous kytons.
Also, an ancient God named Zon'Kuthon is said to have made his home on the Plane of Shadow and that it was largely corrupted by his influence.
|Tholan the Drolleye|
Tholan grunts and looks around the room. "I haven't shed blood in hours. What do we think? Do we have a next stop in our tour of violence?" He grins and pats the hilt of his blade. "I'm sure someone out there in the big wide world deserves to die. Or at least wouldn't be missed too much."
Iskandarr chuckles, "I suppose how much one is missed is relative." he gives a shrug. "I wouldn't miss them too much."
The wizard harrumphs in disapproval. "Our next endeavor will require some measure of subterfuge. Subtlety. We will need to designate a time and place for your destructive talents. Our first stop will be the Iched Island, where I hope our stay will go unnoticed."
He looks around, unable to see the Halfblood but hopeful that he was there in the office, somewhere. "I believe it was the spymaster who requested this meeting..."
Bump for Anga.
At that moment Facion slips quietly through the door and says. "I had matters to... Attend to." Drawing forth his cloak of shadow paths, Anga secures it around his shoulders and feels it's familiar weight not only on his body, but also his mind.
Making sure his weapons were clear and loose in their scabbards the spymaster turns back to his companions. "I assume that your presence indicates you're ready to depart?" Not waiting for a response he continues. "I would remind you, that lest you wish to stay behind, do not let go." His clear, gray eyes scans over each individual before quickly drawing the blinds and pinching out the few candles in the room. Grabbing Variel and the Drolleye by the shoulders he waits until everyone is physically connected, and then steps into darkness.
Trying to head to the Achard Islands? Still not sure of the process. :P
Also hopefully didn't railroad too much here? I figured we were all ready to go!
Iskandarr places his hand on the shoulders of Thaegrin and Ezkal and nods his ready.
Thaegrin flinches, wishing for a more covert entry to the Material Plane. Perhaps the Halfblood does not have such minute control over where we arrive...
Still, there is much to do. He says to the Thelkonlanders, "Sell the spoils from the island; the fighting kit we no longer need. I will find you this evening." He turns to issue an order to the spymaster, but thinks better of it. The Halfblood will show himself when he is ready. "Do not leave town," he adds to the hairy brothers, "I have my own business to attend to. Tonight I will look for you in the loudest tavern."
He takes a step to leave, and nearly bumps into the man-beast. For one so big, he is surprisingly quiet. "Follow them, or come with me," he mutters to Iskandarr. "I care not."
Pausing to hear any objections from his companions, Thaegrin Variel takes hobbled steps away from the group, keeping a slightly stooped posture as he goes. He is eager to blend into the marketplace crowds, an old man about his old business. He peruses the shops of fine garments, the hawkers of spell components, and vendors selling parchment and ink. All the while, the old Feraweni makes pleasant conversation and listens closely to those around him.
Diplomacy 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21, to gather information. Looking for local customs so Thaegrin can blend in. Who to avoid, what laws to observe, and any local rumors if the roll is high enough.
Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14, Sense Motive 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28 looking for evidence and social cues that could direct him to dealers in the black market.
Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20, Appraise 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18, looking for basalt, obsidian, and onyx. How much is the posted price, and how much is it actually worth?
Iskandarr nods and steps in line with the wizard "A lovely day to go to market." he says with a half smile and hinted sarcasm.
What are reagants for?
Being technically a principality in name only, this island officially governs itself. About the only real taboos are buying and selling slaves and failing to haggle.
(just rp. An appraise roll when offering a sale DC 14 reduces list price by 10%)
Rumors are circling that Amerys has taken Targ's isle and that slavery in the region has ended. Everyone eagerly awaits the Return of Vice-Admiral Trinton.
There is a woman leaning carelessly on a cart of half-bad onions. She does gives out few onions despite several people walking up to her for a friendly looking chat before walking away.