Deep Crow

Tark the Ork's page

RPG Superstar 6 Season Star Voter. Organized Play Member. 4 posts (18,682 including aliases). No reviews. 2 lists. No wishlists. 1 Organized Play character. 40 aliases.


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Male Orc Expert 5

Christmas and new years have shredded me utterly. Though perhaps not nearly in a way that requires surgery. I should have an update within the week.


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Without hesistation the tengu springs away catching themselves on some nails but the adrenaline and fear numbs the painful injury.

Seeing the blur of movement and smelling the fear the dog before merelda and litsy is triggered from caution into instinct breaking into a furious attack on the closest target, that being Litsy.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

With a savage blow to the dog Variel knocks the wind out of it before making his way away from it.

Whistles heard in the distance marks an escalation of danger and quickly slipping grasp of remaining time.


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Male Orc Expert 5

Sorry trying to get back into a groove and everyone around me is still sick as well ill get things going proper tommorrow evening.


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Male Orc Expert 5

First day ive woken up and not immediately needed a shower.


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Male Orc Expert 5

tommorrow


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Male Orc Expert 5

Been very sick should update monday as i near the end

Only upside is being able to no life armored core 6


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Male Orc Expert 5

Just busy. Not forgottwn.


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so to double check.


Litsy variel and pollux will arrive sometime before curfew to get into position.


Merelda will either go with the above 3 or meet up with their ride to secure an exit.

Beorn will take a crew of miscreants and protest the excruciation at or past curfew to draw some of the guards away while the other three or four enact vwngeance. Is that right?


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Male Orc Expert 5

Redbull is nasty and not a subatitute for sleep.


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Sense Motives!

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Getting down to business as you start working out how to deal with the letter, your injured teams and considerations towards a larger, more easily defended hideout, Merelda, Castor, and Litsy get to work narrowing down the suspects of the letter sender.

Merelda's intentions are pretty clear from the outset and between this, a lack of desire to get too rough just yet, a lack of knowledge about the group, and a splitting of duties between quietly gaining support for the Ravens and trying to weed out the mole she doesn't luck out in finding anyone particularly suspicious.

Litsy and Castor however do run into some luck. One of the mercenaries, a one Morghar Manthai seems to stand out from the rest. While with his brethren he's just as loud, surly, and dangerous. But when things quiet down or he's alone on some assignment or another he acts differently. Castor has caught him on more than one occasion squatted over large rathole discovered when Reed was killed. Each time he simply stares for a moment too long down the hole before stiffly getting back up and getting on with business. In Litsy's case when she asks about places he's seen in the city things don't quite add up. For example when he talks about getting close to the castle just so he could get a feel for the task ahead of him he didn't seem able to recall any of the buildings or streets and especially notable landmarks between. When pressed on this he seems confused and plays it off as simply bad memory or just being lost in his own thoughts and missing the streets for the destination.

At the insistence of Rexus, he suggests to the sisters that they should investigate a few of the burned buildings from the night of ashes. They return indicating three of the buildings may be of interest to the group if they choose to go.

As for the city, Barzillai has revealed what the dogs were for. As, believe it or not, public executions are not the norm. Thrune prefers quite public and effective humiliations and tortures in often creative and painful ways. This new form of torment is called doghousing.

The victim is placed inside a wooden doghouse with various nails driven through. The result is they can't properly sit or lie down and are in constant danger of being painfully stabbed by a sharp nail. Twice a day they are allowed out of the doghouse to eat. That is if they can get it from the two large chained dogs where the doghouse is just out of reach of. If they wait, the dogs will just eat all the food. If they try to get the food, they'll be lucky not to come away without a few bites for their trouble. To date no one has officially been "doghoused" but it seems the Chelaxian Citizens Group has decided to make use of this new form of torment for themselves.

In this case, one of the tengu sisters was doing a rare thing and simply purchasing some food for themselves when a group of the armbanded thugs cornered them, accused them of stealing and doghoused her themselves. The other two sisters are beside themselves with anger and fear and while they are usually very professional and quiet in such matters it may very well get out of hand if they decide to take care of the problem themselves.


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I'm taking all these actions into account.

I need yall to go ahead and make your loyalty roll and check attrition.

Also assign mereleda a role if she has one yet, take your rebellion actions for week 4.

Also Vendalfek allows the rebellion to take the Spread Disinformation
action even if it doesn’t have rumormongers, agitators, or cognoscenti. If the rebellion does have a team that grants this action, Vendalfek grants a +4 bonus on all Secrecy checks to Spread Disinformation


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A piece of the wall comes away and slides inward revealing a dark staircase and the musky odor of a storm drain. A few steps down and around the corner you come out into a long hallway that opens up to a reservoir of dark water standing in the middle of the reservoir covered to her knees in water and to her torso in thick green algae is a rober and concealed depiction of the goddess Calistria holding a dagger before her point downward. Standing out in this hallway carrying their weapons and conversing quietly until you appear are the tengu sisters and two of the varisian mercenaries who nod in greeting as you approach but eye the newcomer with naked suapicion. The rest of the mercenaries are playing cards in the bunk room and don't look up from there game save the one watching the door who looks on apprehensively as you pass through but otherwiae sounds no alarm or acknowledgement.

Merelda:
It's obvious to anyone that the symbolism and depiction of the statue is Calistria. What's only truly obvious to her worshipers and priesthood is what they represent. Different statues represent very different things and the outfits, weaponry, pose, facial expressions, and even locatio all convey different meanings. For example a depiction of her naked, arms outstretched with arms wide for an embrace in a public temple or square invites all talk of ideas and sexuality. The same statue in a private setting invites the actual expression of said sexuality and tends to be a common feature in some noble households.

This depiction, subtle, dangerous, and hidden, is perhaps her most controversial depiction. This is the goddess that is patient, cold and utterly merciless. This is the goddess that starts murdeeing relatives one by one before the true target. This is the Calistria whose followers kidnaps children to be raised in the church to use the very same children to slit the throata of their parents. This is the savored sting who spends weeks spreading rumors, secrets and lies to ruin a life so thoroughly they laugh from the shadows as the victim takes their own life. This Calistria is the one the priestesses don't talk about in public often but is every bit as important as her fun side. Churches like this took their vengeance out on families, organizations, nations or entire races when it waa called for. If this is what they descended to with the rise of Thrune it is perhaps no small wonder the devils would prioritize rooting them out.


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Male Orc Expert 5

yall waitin on me?


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The wasps nest with the statue is under the longroads coffeehouse Through the hidden entrance in the cellar Laria was gesturing towards.

The vomit possum lair is another place under some abandoned stables. Possibly haunted.

Poor Beorns the stress is harming his memory mightily.


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Laria looks at Merelda quietly for a moment before turning to the others to read their reactions. Apparently satisfied with what she seessh3 shakes her head and throws her arms up.

"Well maybe you can get your goddess to bless you with some sense because if you haven't noticed many peiple have gone missing or dead for doing far less than proclaiming themselves a foreign agent of a hostile power in a town where the new lord mayor is justifying his tyranny with that very reason. Have you tried claiming to be kuthonian? Spikes and black leather and i doubt anyone would bat an eyelash nor try to get into your private life."

"Speaking of sense, do you want to guess how the Dottari suspected I was harboring criminals here? And how lucky I am that I know exactly how the watch commander likes his coffee and would rather be beating drunks and beggars out of this part of town than raid a reputable establishment?"


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Check to make sure you have control of your token so you can place them on the map where you plan to wait and lemme know if you can't.

The armoury as it has been described to you is more like a museum than a weapons storage. Lined along the walls, displayed on racks, and scattered throughout in plain view are dozens of trophies donated or otherwise acquired from the retired veterans of longacre. Nidalese ranseurs lay in racks next to mwangi jungle spears, while army issued cavalry sabers hang on the wall next to embossed cutlasses taken from defeated shackles pirates. It would be a museum worthy to show Cheliax's numerous minor victories and achievements if the bulk of it wasn't broken, rusted or otherwise of no real use. At the back of the mainhall is a particularly impressive display of a ship ballista appearing fully functional and with three of its accompanying bolts hanging on the wall behind it.

The quartmaster himself is an older house guard with one eye and one leg. After some brief and curt questions he leaves you to it while he dilligently checks and rechecks every lock and bar before he himself locks you in as the sun starts to set andalong with it boredom.


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To clarify the shop is empty. But it's not closed, nor is it dofficult for someone to listen from say a door or a window or just qalk on with nad toming.


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Litsy:
Laria isn't acting like someone qbout to betray you. More like someone about to drown you for talking openly about your sedition in a public place she just admitted the dottari have been and judging by the kitchen it was not a friendly visit.

Vendalfek doesn't respond indicating either the fairy dragon got distracted and wandered off, is keeping quiet, or is otherwise not present

For her part Laria seems panicky and is speaking rapidly in an attwmpt to stifle conversation and lead you to somewhere more private.

"INVISIBLE FRIENDS WHAT AN ACTIVE INAGINATION! NOW LETS CONTINUE THIS PERFORMANCE IN PRIVATE SO WE DON'T DISTURB ANY CUSTOMERS! NEVERMIND THE KITCHEN THE MESS IN THE CELLAR IS MUCH MORE SERIOUS! Laria practically vibrates as she tries to pull people away from the kitchen and towards the cellar below.


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"Sorry, I prefer to work behind the curtain as it were. And that sounds very derivative. I can't promise behavior as I am be having much boredom while the entertainment dourly stares into their drinks being about as fun as river sand in your socks. And no I'm not undead that was part of the bit, thank you for catching up with the rest of us I trust the trip wasn't too harsh on your mind. I am willing to resettle particularly if we're talking about dumping salt on the loathsome slug. But behaving is just a lie parents tell their children to prepare them for the tyranny of adulthood. And besides before I make any decision I'd need to see this proposed new home. We can go look when you like, but it best be soon I think I hear the first afternoon's patrons making their way here."


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Male Orc Expert 5

Spent a week in the void. Relaxing this time of planetary alignment. Regular posting will resume soon.


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In this case hed function as an ally that provides bonuses but nothing more.

As far as Variel can tell the fairy dragon isn't undead. Though it has done a fair job of staying out of arms reach and being seen only when it wants to be seen.

At Litsy's question the dragon starts pacing around the fixture cauaing it to wobble ever so slightly.

"Oh, when you're roughly the size of a house cat and endlessly fascinated by how humans go through their lives you tend to hear all sorts of things. Like how Isger fell to Iomedaen crusaders, or a manservant claiming he's seen the yellow coated man in a painting in his ladies house, or that the loathsome slug recruits from prisons." The dragon stops and leans in conspiratorialy.

"But sometimes when people believe none who can hear them cares, they get up to dark bargaining and sinister dealings. Take the ship's mate helping his captain with his marital issues. The captain can't leave the boat himself, but his crew can, his officers can, and especially his wife can. A wife whom he suspects is acting...unfaithfully. A time, a place, an exchange of coins and a set of concerned ears with a dillema to solve. Afterall how does a six pound nine ounce force of draconic fury match to well armed killers intent on the blood of another? Well I'm not in the mood to be skewered no matter what mushrooms the satyr is offering! But what would happen if the killers found themselves at the knifes edge of some very cross people themselves? Turns out the answer is they'd get themselves brutally killed. Shame that. But pardon me if I don't cry for the fate of vicious murderers."


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"I mean I honestly didn't care one way or another." a teeny voice calls from the rafters. The fairy dragon appearing on one of the candle lit fixtures above the wreckage of the table. "I didn't write that particular portion of the script and I think the director scribbled "wing it" in the margins. I just have to keep my portion of the agreement as it were. Ah it seems your crazed friend found all the stage rigging. You can do a lot with some wire, some springs, and a few simple cantrips. Shame it'll take hours to put everything back in place."


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The fairy dragon puts a claw to it's chin thoughtfully.

"I'm willing to talk things over somewhere other than a murder scene. But first! There's something that must be done before the curtains can fall on this particular drama. I need to uphold my word even if her ambition is larger than her skillset allows. And in the end things did work out for the better."

The dragon points down at Beorn and calls out in a voice as melodramatic as a stage devil handing out a proclamation.

"You must kiss the elf!"


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The fairy dragon pops up on the lip of the roof above with all the grace and arrogance of a cat. It sits on the edge of the roof it's butterfly wings vibrating agitatedly as it looks down from it's perch.

"Oh? At first you had my curiosity. Now you have my interest. Do tell."


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It sounds like its coming from one of the roofs above. To discern more than that you'd need a check of either sense motive or perception.

"My interest in you? Did I barge into your home rummaging through all the cubbies, crawling underneath all the tables, hm? Did I threaten you with violence and chase you halfway across the district going into detail about wearing your skin as gloves? No no no no no the question is what business you have blundering into the lairs of dragons! It can't be all violence and profit, though the possibility is still open! Afterall you take a joke about as well as an eogorian magistrate with half the subtlety."


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"That doesn't sound entertaining! Every case would just end with a dramatic gavel thump and the judge uttering in a monotone and I sentence you to death by impalement Whether the accused is innocent or not. Much more entertaining if the accused is sleeping with half the courtroom including the judge and the magistrate. But we're veering wildly off track! Because whether or not you realize it you did two good deeds today. Saving a strangers life and foiling the conspiracy to have her killed. Your mothers would be proud of you I'm sure. Not their mothers mind you, but that's a concern for the gods I think."


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Male Orc Expert 5

So I'm thinking of starting another game in the sort of kind of when i finally feel satisfied future. This is the short blurb for it so far.

yes, grappling the incubus against their will is still a crime. :

The war is over. Yet, strangely, the world wound remains open. Demons, angels and far stranger things now mingle more or less peacefully as they seek their own destinies on the streets of Fracture. Formerly the city of Iz, this once demon infested shadow of old Sarkoris has been rebuilt, revitalized and repopulated by a mix of old veterans, returning natives, opportunists, pilgrims to a new faith, scholars, merchants and of course the dragons.

As it turns out, it was not the might of mortal armies, the stalwart will of angelic legions, nor the implacable discipline of hellknights that finally drove the demon lords back. Rather it was flights of Golarion's mightiest native beings; the dragons.

Dragons had long been involved in the war, acting as guardians, advisors, and occasional combatants. However their numbers were always few and tentative as the reclusive creatures could barely bring themselves to commit to the defense of mortals that could abuse their grace, or choose their own short and petty lives over the centuries worth of power, wisdom, and experience belonging to them.

It was not until the mythical Knight Commander, in an act of rejection of both the demands of their patron goddess, and the temptations of abyssal promises revealed a mighty form and scales of brilliant gold that the dragons of Avistan truly took notice and bridged the gap between the humanoid and draconic.

This was no mere rejection of faith and dogma. It was a complete and total abandonment of the bloody zealotry of crusades past. No more witch burnings, no more immediate and automatic destruction of any demon purely out of a pragmatic calculation. The hand that would guide the war would be one of mercy, of restorative justice, not righteous fury. And with the might of a dragon on the edge of the divine behind it there are blessed few mad enough to take advantage of that mercy.

This might came in the form of a score of dragons of various colors. A singular dragon was a match for any mortal army. Such numbers as came to unite under the Knight Commander would be enough to scour the nation of all life should they desire it.

Those that did not surrender or flee found themselves engulfed in dragon fire, twisted by powerful sorcery, or otherwise rent apart by claws the size of spears. Even in the rare cases where such allies were unavailable the renewed and reorganized armies of Drezen found inspiration in the efforts of their new allies and few if any of the demon's most atrocious acts could give them pause.

Gods and celestials can push mortals into frenzied acts of righteous fury but they are aloof and far away and mortals often have to rely upon their chosen mouthpieces for piecemeal interpreted wisdom. The dragons were real, they could be spoken to, and share wisdom back in turn. More importantly, their claws and fangs shed the same blood as anyone's swords and arrows.

This uneasy alliance of the mighty and the meek drove itself through the chaotic hordes and into the plagued city of Iz itself where the Knight Commander themselves hurled the demon lord Deskari back into the Abyss from which he has not returned.

They pushed on to threshold and from here the story gets muddied. It is a fact that along with the queen of Mendev, his army, his closest companions and the recovered Terendelev pushed to the very base of the Threshold where the powerful witch Areelu Vorlesh dwelled. It is a fact that the knight commander and a few elite warriors ascended the threshold to confront her directly. From there things become contradictory and mired in rumor and hearsay. Some say he cast the witch into the Worldwound itself in a hopeful but ultimately futile bid to close the portal. Some say she killed herself in a final act of petty vengeance preventing the portal from ever closing. Darker rumors say she enchanted the commander at the last moment faking her destruction and escaping into the abyss where she plots her revenge. An even more dubious rumor says that the witch still yet lives and in an act thought impossible works secretly under the care of the Knight Commander to undo all the damage she created and improve the lives of the lives of those still living in the ruins of Sarkoris.

All the Knight Commander would say about the issue is that the threat of the architect had been dealt with and it was up to those still living to determine what to do next.

What happened next is a matter of atorybooks and history. Defenses were erected, roads rebuilt, a city cleansed, repaired, and reoccupied. Twenty five years have passed since that time and the wounds of the war before are starting to heal. Green is slowly but surely returning to the wastes. Demon and cultist cells are gradually disappearing. Rogue portals and offshoots of the wound are sealed and secured on a daily basis. It is hard work, but for the veterans of the fifth crusade it is a satisfying end to a hard fought and won campaign even if it did not at all meet their original vision.

Yet peace brings its own hazards. People are people after all and still prone to the folly that falls upon the hopeless and unwary. In the shadows monstrous threats both new and old plan to take advantage of a mighty force with its guard down. Outside the borders nations that once considered themselves patrons to the crusades now look upon the new crusader nation as a potential threat or worthy prize. In the deep wilderness chromatic dragons pushed into their own religious fervor are beginning to rally and unite in a rare cooperation against their metallic cousins in a conflict none save the dragons themselves fully understand.

But these are problems way way above your pay grade. You're just another pair of muddy boots patrolling the city of Fracture. The occupants are strange and the city stranger but law must still be upheld and that is your thankless job. Recently you were selected to join the Redemptors, a company of watchmen responsible for patrolling the demonic districts of Fracture and investigating the crime that often pops up in those volatile places. Whether for your charisma, skill, special powers, or because you pissed off the wrong person in charge it is up to you to maintain order in these neighborhoods and bring to justice those who would violate the trust put into them by the people of the city. It is not a job that lends itself to legends and mythical power, but someone has to do it.


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Litsy gets within 15ft. of the first man who is appearing to recover. Still laughing hysterically he manages teary eyed to get up to his knees.

The nearer man practically impales himself upon Beorn's rapier. So rushed and reckless Beorn barely has to put any strength into it as his blade sinks deep into the mans chest likely going through something important. The shock of it throws the mans swing off wildly.

Variel manages to reach Beorn as he catches him skewering the man and artfully leaning out of the mans wild return swing.

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

group up


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Male Orc Expert 5

yes


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Coming round the corner beorn is greeted by the sight of a dead end alleyway between two warehouses. Filled mostly with detritus and the discarded refuse of river voats of the past.

The pair of men within are armed and armoured in such a way as to suggest starving mercenaries, or veterans who left out the wrong end of the army. One is bending towards what looks to be Beorn's coin pouch scattered on the ground as if tossed there haphazardly. He stops midreach his sword held in his other hand. The second man is leaned over the wall at the end of the alleyway his rough hand clasped around the bruised and teary eyed face of a Garundi woman, her brightly colored
and torn dress and foreign features a sharp contrast to the pale flesh and drab workers clothes of the native chelaxian holding a sword pointed toward her belly.

The one holding the woman pauses and growls at Beorn, "You get one chance to turn away stranger. You can either be silent and go back the way you came or die bravely here."

In response to his companions ultimatum the nearer man stands up and stares pointedly at Beorn the grip on his sword tightening. It's clear at a glance he knows how to use it.

Vatiel hears the exchange as he nears the corner and see Beorn his sword pointed down the alleyway. Lirsy is already in the alleyway yet unseen about 15ft. From the nearer man. The one holding the woman down is fifty foot away from Beorn.

Meanwhile at the tavern funhouse:
As pollux consumes the yellowed script of the servant goes about triggering all the things you can find. Within moments it has flipped sevaral chairs, spilled an entire shelf of liquor unleashed several bucketa of water, beer, and even pickles from the ceiling, and released a screaming goblin who falls from the rafters looks about like a wild animal uncaged and dives out the window with several pickles in hand. Pollux sees the dragon too, first in one corner, than the other, and even the shadow of a larger one majestically plastered on the back of the bar as the sun hits it just right. While nothing appears outright lethal or particularly dangerous the place is more rigged than a magicians bag of tricks.

Dadha seems okay but is stunned into absolute silence as the bar seems to self destruct on its own accord.


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At the mention of Jerax's atousal the bard feels very discomfitted and makes an effort to pull himself from the offending appendage as hard as he can manage.

When he's finally released he returns to the stage throroughly humiliated. And he continues his performance with far safer, and far less impassioned songs ocassionally wincing as some residual pain licks in.


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It has a fair headstart on you but if you choose to chase it you can go into initiative and we can go from there into a chase sequence. Litsy will be delayed a couple of rounds as she's currently staggered and sickened for 2 more rounds.

You are missing things on your persons but figuring out exactly what will take a round or two.

I should note I managed to nick something off of everyone save Variel because the dice are fickle especially to the bold. And I do mean everyone.


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Male Orc Expert 5

Alrighty time to end this before merelda starts writing a Book of Grudges.


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1d20 + 15 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 15 - 4 = 17
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

1d20 + 15 ⇒ (15) + 15 = 30

Variel manages to put a solid gouge into the wood floor below him narrowly avoiding an impromptu vasectomy and losing his pants in the same motion.

A monstrous laughter joins the madmans cacophany at the peak of which all the shutters and windows of the bar fly open letting in a cold breeze off the river.

There's a pregnant pause as it seems something incredibly bad is about to happen as the ghoatly laughter is punctuated by a woman screaming.

And then suddenly it stops.

Perched on a window facing the street a green iridescent creature resembling a cross between a dragon, a cat and a butterfly sits looking somewhat shocked. Before anyone can recover it smiles coyly.

"I'm afraid that concludes this portion of our entertainment for this afternoon. If you did not pay for your ticket at the entrance fear not! Our diligent staff has already collected the appropriate fee from your persons! Please take advantage of this intermission to stretch your legs as we approach the climax of the evening!"

With a flutter of glittery wings the dragon dips below the windowsill out of sight before coming back into sight a brief second later carrying what appears to be a fish net full of very fine items including a quite well crafted rapier sticking awkwardly out of it. Very fine, and very familiar items indeed making their way down the street at speed. Though luckily the size and awkwardness of the dragons cargo seems to be giving it some trouble.


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The reaction of the room is a mix of bemusement and bewilderment. The tavern owner at her customary spot behind the bar is caught between respecting authority and dealing with the disruption in her bar.

The bard for his part looks utterly surprised. "What is the meaning of this!? I've committed no crime, I'm here on request of the owner I don't understand!"

If he resists its minimal at best under the warm embrace of Jerax.


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The massive glowing eyes have remained in the shadows of the rafters unblinking.

Meanwhile chaos has gripped the bar as a four way duel of sorts kicks off.

1d20 + 15 ⇒ (1) + 15 = 16
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

A strange smell hits variel and litsy reminding them of strong wine or potent apple jack. It hits the teenaged girl particularly hard. She has to brace herself against a table as the room spins and her head is filled with euphoric butterflies. Last time this happened someone she wanted to impress, was it a boy? Or maybe it was one of the older gang members, memory's fuzzy. But they nicked a bottle of expensive liquor and despite being light headed after only a couple of sips she felt compelled to press on. She had forgotten that particular feeling between mild buzzing and gastronomic catastrophe until now.

Variel catches Litsy tipping over oit of the corner of his eye when he turns to say something he feels hos belt suddenly getting lighter as his belt pouches suddenly come undone and fall to the floor to a very audible noise like someone cursing followed by frantic skittering comes from between his feet.


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Male Orc Expert 5

Giving the other two a chance to do something or react to the shower of squatic gore before getting on.


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The hell porch:
The dark haired woman cackles unplesantly and glares. "I t'ain't serve NO ONE! Cause ain't none of them worth a damn! Spend decades of your life trying to keep daggers and dicks out your backside not able to get nothin worth doin done and you'll see as I sees. All their pretty talk is just that; talk!" With a speed belying her age the old woman picks up an ivory cane from behind her and starts enthusiastically beating the door next to her."DOCTOR! DOCTOR! GET OUT HERE GIRL YOU GOT VISITORS!"

From within the house there is a shuffling as the door opens up to reveal a mildly confused and annoyed doctor Rohalendi in a stark white apron. Her face is covered by a white cloth and her black hair is tied in a tight bun atop her head. In one arm she carries a metal bucket with what looks to be several steaming hot white towels. In the other glived hand she carries a collection of very sharp looking needles, small knives and tweezers. At about the same time the doctor comes out Jerax feels the uncomfortable sensation of his calloused thumb being gnawed upon by an enthusiatic and toothless mouth.

The Arch and Lark:
"Fordaneil Cembers your lordship. We do have a small number of guests staying here, mostly on business, though since the archbaron's latest edicts we have not had many stay for more than a day. I will see to both your horse and bath personally milord. Can you tell me what time milord would like for his bath to be prepared?"

Outside Apano sees various ways to get into and out of the establishment, but without closer and more conspicuous inspection he can only speculate on the security. The horrs is doing fine as it awaits for it's master or stabling.


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Male Orc Expert 5

When you fail the sense motive so hard the bleak nibilism of the universe unveils itself to you for but an instant.


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Jerax, the priestess, and the couch:
To Jerax's sadistic delight the old woman cannot even verbalize a response being able to do little more than moan, cry, and beg for mercy upon her twenty year now certainly virginal again self. Her entire body turns red though whterh its out of fear, humiliation, arousal or sudden strenuous effort is only for her and the gods to know.

The other woman doesn't lift a finger in protest and simply cackles wildly at the assault only pausing when Alessandra addresses her. Rather than responding immediately the dark haired woman frowns as she inspects allesandra head to toe in a way that makes Alessandra feel like shes back to being an acolyte about to be berated by an elder sister. And much like those days this one is never satisfied even with perfection.

She harumphs, "And what do erinyes worshipers want with the doctor? Trying to give her a pamphlet and a complimentary barbed whip? That stuffy girls too soft for that life. Cares too much. Wasting your time if you ask me."


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Merelda:
As Merelda's eyes go up the walls to the voice perched above an ancient part of her brain originating from ancestors that fled from burning villages and sudden death from above screams in abject terror.

As perched above is a mighty and terrible green dragon staring down on her in that way cats stare at a mouse with an injured leg. She blinks, and as her reason catches up with her instinct she notices that while indeed she's lookong at a dragon the proportions are very much off for the kind of terror such a sight would illicit. The spear like claws are more like toothpicks. The maw of swords probably wouldn't do more than give you a nasty gash. In fact this mighty iridescent green dragon, with butterfly wings reminiscent of a black swallowtail, could probably make a group of mice flee in terror if it put real effort into it but not much else. At least it was cat sized perched as it was on the gutter above.

Looking slightly taken aback the faerie dragons wings fold slightly.

"Well not that kind of fun. You want one of those silver dragons they're the ones prone to bestiality the degenerates. No, no, no, nonononono, what I was thinking was a lot less sticky and more, uh, dramatic. My current lair is a pale compatison compared to the laughter and passion of the old one and it's just not as entertaining. Plus the rat quality is frankly terrible, wharf rats are greasy from all the swimming, I hate having to hunt so far away but it's better than tasting rotting fish for a week. Oh but what am I doing? I'm being incredibly rude! I am Vendalfek the mightiest dragon in Kintargo until a slightly bigger one comes along."

Merelda is aware of the faerie dragons.True dragons that blur the lines between pseudodragon, true dragons, and the capricious fey. In Kyonin they're often seen only in the company of powerful mages, though they are rarely allowed to roam free. Insatiably curious, fickle to an irritating degree, they treat the harmless oractical joke like a high artform and spend much of their long lives seeking out entertainment to the annoyance of others. To their credit, they are good creatures at heart and even though a settlement near a clan of them will ocassionally have their sheep painted in rainbow colors, or find all their cheese animated and running away, no children will ever get lost in the nearby forest. They are powerful sorcerers in their own right though their magic tends to be bent entirely to enhancing their ability to pull pranks.


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To answer tiny's question the man simply shakes his head, "Just a long night of hard work. You'll understand when you're older." Before Ron returns to cleaning tables and picking up stray cups as a way of dismissing her.

As agreements are reached and curfew fast approaches the group files out of the bar to return to their respective homes and hideouts. Ron locks up shortly thereafter taking care to make sure it's secure before he too returns to his own home. As he does so an iridescent flickering escapes through a rathole to continue its ineffable business.

Merelda:
As the calistrian devoted returns to the novel sensation of a cold and lonely bed she contemplates the events of the evening while avoiding the watchful eyes of the dottari and the more savage attentions of the packs of chelaxian citizen group members that to her umbrage have taken to attacking percieved foreigners when curfew starts to approach.

Pulling her hood over her ears she ducks into an alleyway to avoid a particularly large pack of club yieldong youths when a voice above her tears her out of her reverie.

"I'm not sure what to make of the newcomers. The barmaids nice enough I guess. The opera singers alright but I think his tastes are a little bland. But you, you could be fun."


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Male Orc Expert 5

Dunno and at this point i dont care. The answer will never match the various scenarios my brain has devised to make Beorn the man of sheer will he is today.


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Male Orc Expert 5

Also the mountain of blissful chastity that is Beorn when women hurl themselves onto him is a joke that'll never get old.

On thay note, I take it we're ready to move on?


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Male Orc Expert 5

"Those two emit a pc glow, we should include them"

"Those two are total strangers, and that one was rude. Absolutely not."

"Yes, but the glow."

"What are you babbling about?"

"The glow man! The glow! The obvious aura indicating that these two are clearly protagonists and their inclusion may further the story!"

"I am clearly neither insane nor drunk to neither understand nor argue so let's just do what you want."


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Male Orc Expert 5

I will resume posting in earnest come monday.


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Male Orc Expert 5

posting should resume tommorrow


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Male Orc Expert 5

posting should resume tommorrow


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Male Orc Expert 5

Im gonna be a bit slower this week due to family goings on and other things. Ill try to get upbwhat i can. In the meantime i feel its a good time for you to regroup and share info.


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Beorn:
The voice in your head chuckles softly. "I'll think about it. It's hard enough to get them to sing the same lyrics let alone hold a rhythm. Tell me, I don't get out much. Does the Lord Mayor have a sister or wife?"

Litsy:
Your new drinking buddies are surprisingly wholesome making the maid grabber more the exception than the rule. They regale you with plenty of traveling tales, old war stories, and the general male b*##@@%! you've come to recognize as a trait that must start in boys teenage years. Between these stories you get snippets of weird happenings in the bar, sudden drunkeness in people who hadn't had a drop, the disappearance of the owner for long lengths of time, ghosts, poltergeists, weird butterflies along with visions of bitter rivals, lovers engaged in scandalous activity with other men. This has made the bar much more lively, but the more sober of the patrons who talk to you express convern that it's only a matter of time before the dottari ahuts this bar down like the last one they were at.

Merelda:
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

Merelda spends her time making tips, taking orders, and judging the poor quality of kintargan dock beer. Compared to coaxing donations out of supplicants or outright theft this job is fairly easy if tedious. Even if her selection of suitable bedroom accessories seems scarce there's no lack of solicitations, which henerally come with generous tips.

Sasha and Pollux:
Sasha quickly comes to Ron's side and shakes him.

A deep groan emits from him as he comes awake. Rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes he blinks in brief confusion at her before recognition returns. "Oh no. It happened again didn't it? How long have I been out and whose that?"

As Ron finishes his sentence and gets up to his knees Sasha's train of thought is interrupted by the sharp crunch and chew of someone biting into a hard vegetable. Turning slowly she spots a man in a long yellow jacket sitting on top of the turnip crate with a large rat perched on his lap. Both seem to be indulging in fresh turnip and the mild melodrama before them. His pale gray face looks unconcerned.

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