Rokova AKA DM Dan E's page

Zeladiel is attempting a bluff :) And moving gradually to the north?

Bluff 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 1 + 2 = 8 (circumstance)

The voice responds to Khalid with a hint of mirth while the gnollish image looks on stoicly.

I wasn't sure how much of Vardishal's memories were yours. That was the one thing I couldn't control. But it seems you hold even less than I thought. Pazhvann? The loyal servant. He's as arrogant as these mountains but there's not a devious bone in his entire body. Davashuum? About as patient as a sand storm and as merciful. She would have ripped you apart with her bare hands at the slightest hint you were in her way.

I am Zayifid, my brother.

And I get the scroll of Kakishon.

Everybody wins and everybody lives.

Rokova seems to answer Nuveril first, amusement but also a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

Well I will say that this whole affair would have been a bloody great deal .. simpler if I was able to visit the tomb myself. Its more than a little ironical really. The original builders had very specific reasons for keeping such as I out of the lower levels and while they are long departed their wishcraft shows every sign of holding until Pale Mountain wears down to dirt.

As for a false bargain, why Khalid ni Vardishal you wound me so very deeply. Every word I've ever spoken to you has been nothing but the truth.

The image shimmers and changes..

Ah! How refreshing it must be to take the direct approach to the solution of any problem. Just hit it with your hammer.

Only I'm not holding you down here. Hadira though has an interesting reception waiting for you above.

The tomb. Did you find it? He enunciates each word in the last sentance.

As he speaks further you can't help noticing his voice sounds different than before...

The gnoll appears at least to have abandoned the pretence of the illusion this time, the image looking in your general direction emotionlessly.

When he speaks, the voice comes from well behind the image in front, somewhere in the vicinity of the entrance to the circular room where you rested although it is difficult to be sure.

And the heroes return! You found Shirak's tomb I take it?

Feel free to sense motive.

Rokova tenses slightly at the threat in Sajan and then Nuveril's words, staring steadily at the (still very large) monk as Khalid makes his decision.

In response to the inquisitor's words, he simply nods, stepping back into the darkness and apparently moving away without a whisper.

Assuming nothing retconny from Zeladiel.

The gnoll's command seems to hold (for the bare moment) and you are undisturbed as you quickly finish looting the bodies, Grall retrieving the priest's body from the darkness, evidently a victim of Rokova's blade as Nuveril surmised. Zeladiel continues to concentrate, walking around the room, and that yields a further find, a scorpion whip hanging on the wall of the armory which he directs Grall to snatch up, the darkness still blocking your direct sight.

Most of the loot is quickly stashed in the enchanted haversack, although you are left with corpses inside the magical breastplate and studded leather armor (not to mention the Carrion King's large half-plate). It would evidently take you some time to strip these.

Will assume Linah does some tapping in the interim which we will sort out based on what you choose to do. Loot list in OOC thread.

In the interim, Khalid makes his way around the ledge to the northern balcony over-looking the pit.

The smell is if anything even worse here and the inquisitor's skin seems to itch with every step. The throne itself sits atop what looks like a twenty-foot-wide pillar rising from the pit. A disgusting thing, made of metal and shattered bodies, stitched together with rope and more metal and covered with maggot-writhing carrion.

Fighting not to lose what little remains of his breakfast, the inquisitor kneels and examines the base of the throne. Knowing more or less where to look it doesn't take long to find, a metal part that looks like a support but instead appears to be some kind of trigger mechanism that looks to pull clockwise against the rest of the base.

It would be disable device or knowledge (engineering) to try and divine what the mechanism does without triggering it, not your strong suits.. Zeladiel can verify that the trigger itself is not magical.

There is a pause after Zeladiel and Khalid speak then Rokova replies.

Very well.

The image shimmers and vanishes as the gnoll (apparently) steps out of the globe of darkness to replace it, tucking a wand back into its belt as it does so. This time the figure appears to be paying very particular attention to your respective movements.

We have a difficult situation. Clearrly there can be no trrust between us and you will be, quite rrightly, suspicious of any rrequest I make. So I will simply prrovide you with assistance in the hope that you will utilise it in a way that serrves my interrests.

Hadirra will be here verry shortly, no doubt, with as many gnolls from the surrface camp as he can cajole or bully. He is quite adept at eitherr method. Some will flee at the news theirr King is dead while otherrs, partrticularly of the Carrion tribe itself, will desirre vengeance on his killerrs.

Hadirra will use your prresence to consolidate his power. At my expense, unless I do the same.

If you werre gone beforre he got herre howeverr.. well therre could simply be a headless King, his mysterrious slayerrs vanished like mist...

It is up to you. But if you seek a method of trransporrt from herre you will find something interresting in the base of the Carrion Thrrone. Something that I believe Hadirra is unawarre off.

Well it has been a pleasurre but I have matterrs to be about. My command should give you a few minutes.

Slight edit.

Those who haven't already seen though said illusion can make a will save at +4 to disbelieve.

The "gnoll" turns to Sajan.

I am merrely prrudent. It seems an unlucky day to be a gnoll otherr than yourr pack mate. Its hand gestures absently at the blood splattered floor and mounds of enemy dead.

Well slayerrs, I have sought to find common grround upon which to build an accomodation but it seems furrtherr negotiations will be unprroductive.

Interrupted by Grall, the gnoll listens to him with interest before turning back to Khalid.

You may find our interrests more in alignment than you think.

The gnoll projects his voice, his shout bouncing off the stone walls.

The gnoll cries still at least for a moment.

Rokova turns back to Grall.

As I say, you arre clearrly mighty fighterrs. Injurred and wearry ones from the look but I must be mistaken.

You can cerrtainly fight your way back to the surrface, slay Hadirra and his demons and however many of the hundreds there that choose to fight. Perrhaps they will all rrun away at the sight of that head?

I'll not stand in yourr way orr impede you in the slightest. I hold no affection for the followerrs of the Rrough Beast. And I have no wish to fall beforre the halfling's hammerr or to the wrrestler's grrip.

Best not to count on yourr Aunt's supporrt though. I know herr moods well and herr mate lies overr therre. He nods at the near dismembered gnoll captain. You may find your rreunion a terrse one.

Orr He pauses as if gauging your reactions.

You can hearr what I have to offerr. Which depends like with most things on what you desirre. A means of exit, unknown to the otherrs?

He looks directly at Grall. Orr perrhaps influence, power? With Gharrtok dead, Hadirra will attempt to consolidate both. As will I and all here know me as a warriorr second only to the King.

You wish peace for your norrthern lands? Perrhaps it can be achieved with the rright gnoll on the thrrone?

Orr perrhaps Grrall wishes to be that King?

Barb's fatigue is over. Update for Zeladiel following.

The gnoll opens his mouth as if to reply.

Giving Grall, Nuveril etc a chance to interject, charge into combat etc :)

From the darkness, a gnollish voice speaks in fluent Kellish.

Perrhaps mighty Grrall will not need to prretend to be a King. You and yourr companions have just crreated a vacancy on the Carrion Thrrone after all.

A gnoll appears immediately in front of the globe of darkness, shoulders to its edge.

Near seven feet tall, but with an asthetic, gaunt build rather than muscular, this one is dressed unusually and neatly in silken trousers and pants, like a human nobleman. A jewelled scabbard is fixed to a non-descript belt, holding a sheathed scimitar with a wrapped hilt. A gaggle of wands rest beside it and every finger bears an expensive looking ring.

I am known as Rokova. I serrve as the King's chancellorr. Orr at least I did. Expressionless, he inclines his head at the headless gnoll.

You arre trruly an imprressive grroup, vanquisherrs of the drread Gharrtok although I might humbly add slightly forrtunate not to also face his most powerrful allies. High Prriest Hadirra will be on his way back from the camp with his remaining priests. Your Aunt. He inclines his head at Grall. And of course, myself.

But I am not your enemy. As I trrust I have just proven.

Shall we parrlay? It is hard to read his smile.