Isaac's page

At the Copper Cauldron Isaac can’t help but grin at the sight of his old comrades, despite the somber occasion. Back-slapping hugs, vigorous hand shakes and hard basher appropriate toughguy nods are exchanged, according to a cutter’s preference. He looks much the same despite his time out of the Rose- though he’s sporting a silly worker’s tan right across his face, dividing the more ruddy top half of his face from the more pale lower half of his face. His Godsmen badge is still prominently displayed on the shirt over his chain mail, but looking closely those that know him can see he’s not wearing his old ring anymore.

”Well cutters, it’s a sad antipeak but at least we’re all together to bid Rhiannon farewell on the way to her next link in the chain.... or to the Powers she revered.”

During the viewing, he briefly grasps Rhiannon’s forearm before sadly returning to the company.

Isaac frowns, a sour taste in his mouth after any dealings with Swire.
"Eh. Leave it to a Taker to hire another sod fer his dirty work and then squall 'bout how it gets done."

"I'm all for payin' Crux a visit, gov. The World Ash is always a welcome sight fer me."

"Somewhere between sausage twelve and fifteen, love. Well, let's get this business with our old friend concluded- I don't think a little detour back to the World Ash would hurt given our increased profile, if ye tumble."

"... why are we holdin' onto this thing, then cutter? You study it enough yet? Might be time teh break it once and for all, deny whatever they are their toy. We already got one dangerous power source in hand, why take another?", Isaac says to Justin.

"Another thing,", he adds in a low voice to the table,"we got some interest from the press. One Serafina of the Sharper Eye wanted the Dark of our run-in between the Dead and the Chaosmen a couple weeks ago. If she asks, we were workin' fer the Bleakers to keep the other two Hiver factions from each others' throats. I reckoned that's a more flattering story than the truth about a splinter faction o' Dustmen operatin' outta the Mortuary. She comes 'round again, stick teh that story best ye can. That way, ye know, the Dusties can't get too cross with us and trash our rep."

Isaac wrote:

Dungeon Monkey wrote:

Isaac wrote:

Dungeon Monkey wrote:

Serafina smiles

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time the Dustmen and the Chaosboys squared off. Were you in the thick of things? I heard there was quite a ruckus. There was some loose talk one of the gates to the Mortuary were overrun"

Isaac nods.

"Aye, right in the thick of it. As far as breaking things, I'd reckon only the Sinkers are better- the Chaosmen tore through the gate and we got back inside. But I'm not at liberty to say much else, cutter."

Serafina nods

"Oh I completely understand, client privilege and all that. I'm just fascinated that you could get in the middle of what ended up one of the biggest riots in the Hive has seen in years. Did you intervene against the Dustmen or the Xaositecs? I admit I'm a little confused as to whom the Bleakers would have you assist. "

"We was there to see the Dead, so we were holdin' the gates with them while we could, least till less addle-pated coves could prevail. What the Bleakers wanted- well, ye'll have to get it from them if they ain't too depressed to palaver today."

Serafina closes her book and smiles.

"Thank you so much for talking to me Ser Issac. I apologize for not approaching you sooner, but I wanted to observe you before speaking to you. A lot of cutters clam up when a quiller quizzes them"

She glances to the big table

"Is there any chance I could talk to the rest of your crewe?"

Isaac smiles, as sincerely as he can manage.

He shakes the young lady's hand.
"Good teh make yer acquaintanceship, Serafina. I'll see ye 'round the ring, so to to speak.", Isaac says before returning to the table to finish his beer.

Isaac wrote:

Dungeon Monkey wrote:

Serafina smiles

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time the Dustmen and the Chaosboys squared off. Were you in the thick of things? I heard there was quite a ruckus. There was some loose talk one of the gates to the Mortuary were overrun"

Isaac nods.

"Aye, right in the thick of it. As far as breaking things, I'd reckon only the Sinkers are better- the Chaosmen tore through the gate and we got back inside. But I'm not at liberty to say much else, cutter."

Serafina nods

"Oh I completely understand, client privilege and all that. I'm just fascinated that you could get in the middle of what ended up one of the biggest riots in the Hive has seen in years. Did you intervene against the Dustmen or the Xaositecs? I admit I'm a little confused as to whom the Bleakers would have you assist. "

"We was there to see the Dead, so we were holdin' the gates with them while we could, least till less addle-pated coves could prevail. What the Bleakers wanted- well, ye'll have to get it from them if they ain't too depressed to palaver today."

Serafina smiles

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time the Dustmen and the Chaosboys squared off. Were you in the thick of things? I heard there was quite a ruckus. There was some loose talk one of the gates to the Mortuary were overrun"

Isaac nods.

"Well, ye know how boneboxes rattle in the Cage, eh? Thaddeus tells Mort, Mort tells Shen'ai and 'fore ye know it the whole Cage has a fool notion. What I heard, cutter- and ye know the rumor mill eh? I heard that with the quantity o' deaders round the Cage, some o' the Dusties were considering pushing out from the Mortuary and expanding more into the Hive. Now, you know the Bleakers and the Dead are a pair- so who's left in the Hive? Now, true or not, that's plenty to get the Chaosmen's dog's barkin'."

Isaac wrote:

Knowledge (local): 1d20+6

Isaac shakes her hand.
"Isaac, though I reckon ye already know that eh? Lann me the Chant, cutter, are ye doin' a story about little old us?"

Serafina blushes

"Umm, well, actually, yes. I was intrigued by some stories some of my contacts in the Hive have told me. I was told by a certain source that you were involved in that unpleasant Xaositect riot by the Mortuary a few cycles back?"

"Mayhaps, cutter. Our clients tend to prize discretion, ye tumble? But, since ye asked nicely and all..."

Think of a lie, think of a lie... something plausible... muddy the waters... Hive Factions- the Bleakers? Maybe the Harmonium?
"... between you and me, the dark of it is that the Bleakers got wind the Chaosmen had been plannin' to cause a right bit o' trouble at the Mortuary. The Bleakers, bein' the... altruistic sods they are asked us to intervene, ye know, make sure the status quo weren't disturbed-like. And of course minimize casualties and such. A professional third party like the Silver Rose can intervene a little easier (and quieter) than a faction gang, ye kennit?"
Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

"Ye didn't hear this from my bone-box rattlin', though, okay cutter?", Isaac adds with a conspiratorial wink.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Isaac shakes her hand.
"Isaac, though I reckon ye already know that eh? Lann me the Chant, cutter, are ye doin' a story about little old us?"

Isaac flicks his cigarette into the ash bin and quietly sidles up to the young sketch artist.
"Oi, cutter- my ears ain't really that big, are they? A trig drawing, of course, a spittin' image- I'm just a tad bit self conscientious if ye kennit."

Isaac finishes his breakfast and starts rolling a cigarette. He takes a walk over to the hearth to light it up, taking a glance across the tables.

DM:

After quickly washing up and changing, Isaac has his usual oatmeal with fruit and nuts. He washes it down with a morning beer.
Perception: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (18) + 19 = 37
I hear every conversation in the entire bar. Maybe one or two out in the street.

"Whatever your fancy, cutter. Don't give this place the laugh on my account- I just ain't the library sort o' sod."

The Cager shrugs.
"I'd reckon they're all right; don't seem like the darkman would tolerate any cross trading. They'll leave at their own pace."

Isaac stretches, then quickly scribbles a note on a piece of scrap in his pocket, handing it to Justin on his walk to the door.

Note:

"We got ourselves a deal then, OLLI old son. I'm sure Karrin or any of these other learned cutters will be happy to check in on that, eh? I'm ready to call it an evening, cutters, I'll see ye back at the kip."

After stepping back into the library with Karrin, Isaac finds OLLI and counts out 100 ladies.
"100 ladies is your research fee, right cutter? This should square us away. And if there's any extra research or shall we say discretionary fees, just lann me the Chant, eh?"
Isaac is basically putting the possibility of a bribe (or "donation") on the table to keep the inquiry quiet.

Isaac wrote:

DM: ** spoiler omitted **

On his way out the door following Karrin, Isaac taps the modron's "shoulder".
"Appreciate the Chant, OLLI ol' son. Looks like our fellow bibliophiliac over there-", he says, pointing out an indecisive and shifty looking sod hovering between the stacks,"could use a little reading recommendation, eh? Don't want teh monopolize yer time, this bein' a jewel in the Cage's public cap, as it is."

O.L.L.I. follows Issac's pointing finger.

"That being, designated Androcynes, is a guardian of the library. He has made statements to the effect that he is a tangible dream of the Lady, and as such guards her library. This unit cannot adequately corroborate Androcynes' claims."

Isaac raises an eyebrow, though he really hopes that the rest of the team marked him as well.

"Sounds like a good way to get Mazed.. or worse. Thanks cutter."

Isaac wrote:

Isaac raises his eyebrows.
"Oi. Uh, well. Thanks for yer confidence, cutter. So yer granddad's a Duke of Baator? Way to cut the line on yer road to being a Power, basher."

He shakes his head in disbelief.
"But you're tellin' me that not even Nari or Merle know 'bout this? What about Renkar? I mean... I ain't against ye pocketing this gem and all- but we should tell the others don't ye think? They all agreed to have me hold onto it; I drop the responsibility in yer hands without their say-so that's an abuse o' their trust. We all earned this thing."

"... and if you hold onto it, whose to say it won't react somehow? Very few sods know how apotheosis works, cutter, you could be fast-tracked to Powerhood with this thing."

"Wait . . . What? No! That's exactly the opposite of what I want. I want you to hold onto that gem and no matter what don't use it on me. I've always felt my fiendish blood was a curse but I had no idea how much of a curse. The idea of getting some sort of divine power . . . I mean all this could be just coincidence, but I'm not playing into someone else's game Isaac. I'd rather die then get pulled into that side of my family."

Karrin turns away to hide her anger, but Isaac can easily hear the grinding of metal as Karrin flexes her mitt.

"And that's exactly why I never told anyone," Karrin says, "I mean people think I'm an evil manipulative hell spawn as is, but knowing how close I am one of the lords of hell would only make people question me more. Not only that, but my blood, lots of folks would want it just because of how close I am to one of the dukes of Hell. There are exactly four people who know about this Isaac, and two of them are in this room. Please tell me that I haven't made a mistake entrusting you with this."

Isaac holds up both hands, placating.

"So, when you said you're related to a demigod, you had survived these trials- I jumped to a conclusion. Got nothin' to do with tiefling prejudices, of which I have none, it's just my years of Godsman philosophy jumping in. I agree that this thing's a huge risk, and knowing this, I'll keep it bloody well away from you. Really, we had the same thought; I just misunderstood what ye were drivin' at. And I'm sorry for that, truly. Not a bloody word will rattle from my bonebox, basher, I'll swear it three times."

"Okay," Karrin says once she's certain no one else is listening in, "What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room, you have to promise me not to tell anyone ever till then end of time. Okay? So I was just thinking about that gem we picked up and the subsequent fights we had to get it, and I'm thinking that if I had the power to choose who got to carry that little gem I might pick someone with . . . the right linage . . . and then I got to thinking about how each of those fights ended . . . you know despite everything I was around for every victory . . . So . . ." Karrin takes a deep breath, "I've never told anyone else this . . . but turns out, as far as my linage goes, well my grandfather . . . is Ba'al. Oh wow! I said it . . . I haven't been able to share that with anyone. Been keeping it locked away for weeks now. I didn't even tell my priest. Wow. I need a moment . . ."

Karrin takes a step back and fans herself.

"You know what I'm thinking right?" she manages to ask.

Isaac raises his eyebrows.

He shakes his head in disbelief.
"But you're tellin' me that not even Nari or Merle know 'bout this? What about Renkar? I mean... I ain't against ye pocketing this gem and all- but we should tell the others don't ye think? They all agreed to have me hold onto it; I drop the responsibility in yer hands without their say-so that's an abuse o' their trust. We all earned this thing."

"... and if you hold onto it, whose to say it won't react somehow? Very few sods know how apotheosis works, cutter, you could be fast-tracked to Powerhood with this thing."

DM:

On his way out the door following Karrin, Isaac taps the modron's "shoulder".
"Appreciate the Chant, OLLI ol' son. Looks like our fellow bibliophiliac over there-", he says, pointing out an indecisive and shifty looking sod hovering between the stacks,"could use a little reading recommendation, eh? Don't want teh monopolize yer time, this bein' a jewel in the Cage's public cap, as it is."

He pats the cube's backplate before leaning in to Justin.

"The cutter in the smoked glasses' got a crush on you, mate. Old friend from the Prime or a new admirer?", he whispers, subtly indicating a different man.

"Hm? Oh, sure cutter. Let's step outside then."

Isaac looks about, already thoroughly bored. Even if meeting an independent modron was a rarity, the fact that he was eagerly joining the Hardheads made it clear to the Godsman there was little common ground to be had.

Perception: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (13) + 17 = 30
32 if urban terrain applies.

Justin accepts the proffered flask, although from the face he makes, it's obvious he wasn't ready for the contents.

"Smooth." He gasps out hoarsely, handing the flask back.

"Sensates? Nah" He says a few moments later, getting his wind back.
"They're too exciting for me. You know me, I like the nice, quiet life." He grins.

"And you keep the hardheads away from my head. Whatever is in that flask is already doing a number on it." He adds, rubbing his head in (mostly) mock pain.

"Sarcasm, cutter. I'm sayin' this trip sounds as dry as a Dusty's underdrawers."

Isaac steps out with the others into the antipeak fog.
'Libraries and modrons, eh? You cutters sure ye ain't gone and joined the Sensates on me? Should I tell the Hardheads to warm up their truncheons for when things get really rowdy?', Isaac quips. The half-elf takes a swig from his pocket flask on the walk over, offering his preferred mandrake liquor about to anyone else that needs to "pre-game" as he calls it.

Justin looks thoughtful.

"Hm. Good point. IF we are in 'danger' on a Power kind of scale, said danger probably isn't going to be polite enough to warn us first so we can come home and get it." He muses with a wry smile.

"So, it should probably be carried by those familiar with such things, but by someone who won't be tempted to use it casually." He says smirking.

Justin starts to point to himself, "I nominate,... Isaac." He says, pointing firmly at the warrior.

"What? Don't look so surprised. Of course I want to say me. But I'm not so blind that I don't know too much temptation when I see it. Even if it WOULD be for all the right reasons." he says with a self depreciating smile.

"And out of all of us, Isaac seems to be the one with the firmest grip on his own person, neuroses, and his place in the cosmos. I trust him NOT to use it unless absolutely necessary. Heck, the only worry I have is that he won't use it until it's too late. So Karrin can be his conscience. If SHE's screaming at him, it's probably time to use it." He grins.

" 'Neuroses' eh? I'm flattered, cutter. Didn't know you had such a shine for me. Get's me right here.", the Godsman says, putting a hand to his heart.

"I'll keep an eye on the bloody thing, then, though I've a notion in my brainbox this could be my ticket into a new Incarnation- hope it won't be too painful, whenever the time comes."

"Well guv, the questions for the anti-peak are where do we keep this sodding gem- whatever it is now- and how much we lann our client to the Chant. Now, I reckon saying the Signers and Defiers throwing down is enough to explain the dabus involvement... but what do we say about the Dark of it: what happened in the case?"

"Oi, well, Jed'Hamad's property's sorted now. That's one thing, cutter. But when we gave it the laugh, I peered a whole mess o' Dabus flockin' to the Case- with bloody saws and hammers. The plot's fine, I'd reckon, but it's the building that won't be there next Peak if ye tumble to my Chant."

"The Signers and the Defiers might not be a problem when there ain't a building- and if they are, the Lady may just Maze the lot of 'em. What gets my panties in a bunch is this gem, cutter. It's a piece of a dead Power. You think the Lady of Pain will make a distinction between a live one and a piece of one that's already penned in the deadbook?"

"Mmmhmm.", Isaac mutters, puffing out smoke. "I heard some Chant on 'em, cutter. Cranium rats, live in the Undersigil. What basher lanned me on that..."

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
Knowledge (dungeoneering): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
Knowledge (the planes): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Isaac takes a seat by the fire to dry off and rolls himself a smoke, closing his eyes and taking a drag, exhaling his smoke away from the other patrons.

"Considering the dabus were out in force, I doubt there's going to be a case left when they're through..."

"We'll give him the Dark of it in the office... hate to wake the boss at this hour, but it may be somethin' of an emergency eh?"

"I tumble t'that, cutter.", Isaac says, stretching a knot out of his spine. "Hope the dabus don't give a toss about the lot of us... who knows what barmy business goes on in their brainboxes."

Perception: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (6) + 19 = 25

Isaac slips away from the alley mouth, eyes flitting between shadows and tracking movement.
"I'll lann ye the Chant later, cutters. Let's give this place the laugh, company's on the way and I don't fancy stayin' for an antipeak snack..."

Isaac tries to decipher what the dabus are discussing.
Linguistics: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Knowledge- local (if it applies at all): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Perception: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (13) + 19 = 32

Isaac holds up a finger to his lips and creeps over to a nearby alleyway.
Stealth: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (18) + 20 = 38

Can they see the rest of us or do they seem preoccupied?

Gingerly, Isaac picks up the gemstone. Sweat beads his forehead.
"Hide it from more than the Defiers, cutter. The Lady finds this, we may find ourselves in her shadow... 'specially if she takes exception to the Signers and Defiers bashin' each others' brain boxes outside! We should give this place the laugh as quiet-like as we can!"

The Godsman looks over his shoulder, practically expecting the Lady of Blades to materialize any moment.

Whoops, sorry- I'm here. I posted an attack earlier, but maybe it got lost in the shuffle. I'll repost in a moment once I untangle what spells and modifiers are on me.

"Oi.", Isaac says before leaping at the worm, striking at it before bounding away.
I'm going to spring attack the worm.

Frost Greatsword: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 173d6 + 5 + 1d6 ⇒ (2, 4, 5) + 5 + (1) = 17

Isaac rubs the back of his head.
"Bloody wyrm rattled my brainbox...", he mutters.

"Oi, well... this is new and different.", Isaac says, before jumping back into the fray.
AC is 20, Str is 16, Dex 18, ten foot reach. HP 29/85

Frost Greatsword: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 283d6 + 5 + 1d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 1) + 5 + (2) = 13

Ekuur healed you for 33.

Having been severely mauled, Isaac tumbles as far as he can from the dragon's claws and breaks one of his clay tiles to heal his wounds.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 23
Clay tile: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (5, 1) + 3 = 9

Can anyone give me a summary of what's gone down? I'm a little lost, sorry. I remember we were breaking back into the Athar building, but that's it.

Hey, Merry Christmas everyone! Sorry for my long absence but I hadn't realized that the game was going again and then I got a ton of freelance work to deal with. But I'm clear up again and I'll read through the backlog and get up to speed once more.

Isaac takes a quick look over the neighborhood and tonight's case before replying.
Perception (urban): 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (14) + 19 = 33

He detaches a jangling sack from his belt and pulls out a handful of tokens- pins, in truth. Though a little crude, they're readily identifiable as Athar faction pins.

"Right, cutters- I tumbled teh the fact that we ain't all knights o' the post by nature, eh? So I reckoned the best course fer this case is fer some of us teh walk straight in. The Dark of it is, the temple holds a portal- and the Defiers sent some sods through that they ain't heard from again."

"So you bashers what need yer armor or ain't too keen on the shadows, ye stroll in like yer the rescue team while the rest of us slip in through the rear. Havin' a master o' disguise don't hurt, but really all ye need is teh barge in like ye got the tallest pike at the Bathhouse, eh? Act like yer in a hurry, you know, don't give 'em any screed about the Powers and don't rattle yer bonebox too long with any berk in charge."

"And don't let 'em tumble teh the fact that these are forgeries. Factions tend teh get wadded up about that.", he adds.

Congrabulations! WINNER IS YOU!

"Aye, lanned a few Darks about this antipeak's case and did some work at the Foundry that may come in useful later... but I'll give ye the Dark o' that in private."

Isaac takes a seat near Renkar and the rest of the team, rolling himself a cigarette and ordering his usual from the kitchen. The Godsman turns his head away and exhales a puff of anise-scented smoke.
"Have a top-shelf Peak, cutters?"

We takes what you have on you and we calls it even!

Isaac wrote:

Dungeon Monkey wrote:

Isaac wrote:

sneaksies

Issac:** spoiler omitted **

Be Vewy Vewy Quiet: ** spoiler omitted **

You have a few solid hours.

Issac heads back towards Hellgate and the Great Foundry. The day is getting rainier, and the cold drips find their way down Issac's collar despite his best efforts. Soon enough, the multiple stacks of the Great Foundry rear in front of him

Isaac heads into the Great Foundry and finds himself a quiet workshop area, grateful to be out of the rain and into the furnace. When he's sure of his privacy a bit more, he takes a neat cast of the Athar pin he had pilfered and uses it to make a mold- using the fire resistance granted by his gem of smithing to speed the process along a bit. With the mold completed, he counts on his fingers.