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It's a cold, wet day in Absalom, the City at the Center of the World. Even so, none of the cities diverse population seem willing to give in to the uninviting weather. The city bustles in the chilly fog with more activity than other large cities see on the best of days. You have each been summoned to the Grand Lodge to be given your first assignment. None of you know the details yet, although you've met with the bear that they call a Venture-Captain, Adril Hestram before to discuss work opportunities, this will be your first official assignment working as a Pathfinder.
You needn't wait long in the trophy-adorned entrance hall to the Grand Lodge when a door leading into the back areas opens and a grizzled hand emerges, followed by the beefy blubber-coated man attached to it. Larger than most of Absalom's half-orcs and, rumor holds, stronger than even more, the Venture-Captain wears a wild beard and a grim look as he approaches you and the others. He glances down at an ancient scroll one last time, reading silently to himself. Dismissing the bookkeeper who had been sitting at the desk when you entered with a wave of his hand, he sits down and lets out a loud breath. Taking an equally loud one in, he begins his speech in a booming barritone voice:
“Welcome, friends, and thank you for answering my summons so swiftly. The society is in need. An old and quite penniless historian, a bespectacled wag-beard by the name of Yargos Gill has recently made a discovery in an old archive that we have a great interest in obtaining: an ancient codebook, left behind in the wake of one of Taldor’s many failed attempts at invasion. This several-hundred-year-old text would prove an excellent addition to our collection, and must be preserved.
“Yargos makes his home in ‘The Puddles,’ Absalom’s poorest district, suffering from a well-known reputation as a haven for lowlifes. Following an earthquake ten years ago, parts of the Puddles now rest below sea level, resulting in frequent and untimely flooding. Those who can afford not to live there—don’t.
“The district is the stomping ground of pimps, harlots, addicts, knifers, and hoards of unseemly derelicts. It’s never been a kind place, but recent reports reveal some new nameless terror on her waterlogged streets. Several persons claim to have seen cloaked, skeletal-like figures marching through an unnatural fog. Ill tidings indeed. Tracking down Yargos is now a priority—--lest some yellow-toothed thug cut him down, or one of these strange wraiths carry him beyond the pale. Find him, fellow Pathfinders, and find the codebook. Your exploits will be recorded in the Chronicles if you succeed.”
“I can only offer limited advice in finding Yargos- outside of what I've said, we know very little of him. I'd recommend starting in 'The Puddles' and see if you can find anybody who's seen him. You'll want to check his home and his favorite eater, a place by the name of...the Piper? No, the something Piper....the Soggy Piper, that's it. If he's not at either of those, ask around, and good luck to you.”
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Fellow Free Citizen,
Warm greetings on this cold Desnu morn. This city’s chill and squalor does not agree with me, and each day I see the Council bow to slavers and oppressors, my heart sickens. We must do better, we can do better. It all begins with you, my friend. We have become interested in a man named Yargos Gill. Although he’s not much to look at, Yargos is an important voice of the common man in Absalom’s underclass. He is well educated, but he prefers to live among the downtrodden in that wasteland called the Puddles District. He’s also more virtuous than most give him credit for. The Eagle Knights of Andoran have identified Yargos as important to Absalom’s future destiny as a free and independent state of the people. If you find Yargos, above all, make sure you keep him alive. Please do your best to aid him thereafter, and secretly pass along the message that the Eagle Knights will be there for him when he needs them. Purport yourself well and do nothing to besmirch our reputation as beacons of freedom. One day Yargos will be vitally important to the future of Absalom. We wish you to gain his trust so as best to aid him in his cause. Many thanks for your assistance in this matter. As always, I am in your debt.
Sincerely,
Captain Colson Maldris
Her Majestrix’s Most Loyal Servant,
Asmodeus’s dark blessings upon you. Your service to his smoking altar does you great honor and advances the glory of Cheliax. Your devotion has not gone unnoticed, and I must say I am intrigued by you. I have a task of dire import—I have chosen to entrust it to you. Her Majestrix’s interest is piqued concerning the reports of strange undead roaming Absalom’s notorious slum—the Puddles District. Early reports suggest that these strange mist-walkers are animated not by necromancy alone, but by the power of oaths given during their former lives. Our diabolic patrons decree these strange undead merit further study, in case this knowledge leads to a new source of power over mortal souls. Your mission is to obtain an intact skull of one of these undead assassins and secret it back to Cheliax. You must also uncover just what was the oath that these undead killers took. If you succeed, a slew of fresh souls will be tied to Asmodeus’s great purpose. As always, keep your mission in utmost confidence—tell no one. Your service to the Dark One is best done in whispers and shadows. Report back to me when it is done, and I shall reward you, perhaps with an invitation to my next exclusive party… or better yet, a private audience in the boudoir. I think I might enjoy that.
Achingly Yours,
Paracountess Zarta Dralneenj
Honored Subject of the Ruby Prince,
I trust this correspondence finds you well. As always, you have the gratitude of my ancestors and myself for your continued service to Sothis. Dark times are upon this city, and undead walk the streets in the misty hours of the night. Worse, a spectre from our past also rears its head.
Centuries ago, Osirion’s food supply was plagued by a horrible poison called Gut Wither, a war-manufactured toxin brought over from Qadira to further weaken Osiron’s delicate agricultural base. To protect the populace, the then ruling sultans waged a lengthy campaign to ensure that Gut Wither was stamped out and the secrets of its creation were destroyed. Our seers have advised that whoever these undead, mist-walking assassins within Absalom are, they somehow have obtained a chest containing a small supply of Gut Wither, perhaps left over from a forgotten age. I’m asking ask you to track down their supply and bring us a vial of this terrible concoction. The famine days cannot return to our gloried land.
In All Sincerity,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
Servant of the Satrap,
Trade is such a fickle thing. It is like the tenacious relations of a man and woman: they touch, caress, and hope to form a lasting bond borne out of a single night drunk on passion. Absalom is the best lover Katheer has known in a long while. Trade with the city keeps the flow of gold into our Satrap’s coffers strong and steady. Sadly, a recent development jeopardizes this most profitable relationship. Our agents suspect that the appearance of strange undead skulking through the mists of the Puddle District in Absalom bear relation to an incident called the “Silent Tide,” a failed Taldan invasion plan. While the Silent Tide is Taldor’s embarrassing debacle, the secret truth is that our satrapy also made a tidy profit off of the entire episode by supplying weapons to an outfit called Black Echelon, the Taldan saboteurs hidden inside the city. At the time, this seemed a wise and profitable venture, paving the way for trade with our often-enemies to the North.
It would be best if our part in this invasion stays buried. Given Qadira’s renewed economic interests in Absalom, it would be embarrassing, to say the least, to be revealed as a historic enemy of the city. With your help, this embarrassment will remain Taldor’s alone. Cover up the evidence of our involvement. If these specters still carry weapons from our lands, be sure to destroy as many as you can. Do not draw attention to yourself by recklessly destroying them all. If you can make them all disappear, quietly, that will serve our needs as well. As always, you will be compensated; the Satrap showers the loyal with gold.
Kind Regards,
Pasha Muhlia Al-Jakri
Agent of the Empire,
Your rarified services are once again required. I shall not bore you with obfuscation or frivolity. We have acted against Absalom
on myriad occasions and failed with each passing stroke. Apparently this new terror of undead in that ever so deplorable Puddles
District is a remnant of one of our more infamous disappointments.
The undead’s weaponry, distinctive curved sickles, match the sickles once used by Black Echelon. Black Echelon was the rather
ostentatious name of our hidden agents and saboteurs ordered to attack Absalom from within its walls as part of the “Silent Tide,”
an embarrassing and ill-conceived invasion plan we hatched several centuries ago. In advance of the failed attack, we hid a secret
cache of magic wands somewhere within the heart of Absalom for Black Echelon’s use when the time was right. As the Silent Tide
turned out to be an utter boondoggle, the wand cache was never claimed. We believe Absalom’s authorities never uncovered the
cache and the valuable wands remain hidden, their location now lost to time.
With this return of Black Echelon from beyond the pale, we are calling upon you to keep an eye out for any clues as to the
whereabouts of the wand cache. Relay your findings back to us so that we can send a second team to recover the wands. It is believed
that a map to the wand cache was hidden on the last page of a codebook that contained the secret signals to direct the Silent Tide
invasion. If you can find the book, steal or copy the last page and bring it to me.
Do so and you shall be suitably rewarded.
My Sincere Gratitude,
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
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Nyria pulled her robe tighter in, attempting to ignore the worst of the cold and the wet. She doubted she would ever get used to this weather, where water fell from the sky in abundance. Nevertheless, she hurried to the Grand Lodge at the summons of Venture-Captain Adril Hestram. From her first encounter with the Venture-Captain, she had marked him as a man not to cross and rumour certainly backed that opinion.
Within her robes she had concealed a letter from the Sapphire Sage, which detailed some interesting facts about the upcoming mission; forewarned is to be forearmed, or so they said.
She had performed small, off-the-book, tasks for the Society before which amounted to little more than being a glorified messenger, but she had known it would not be too long before she would be permitted to venture out on her own mission and she had suspected that her time was coming when the Venture-Captain had summoned her to his office the week prior. When the letter from the Sapphire Sage had arrived last night, Nyria had positively beamed in her small room at the fact that her chance was here.
Shaking off the worst of the damp from her robes as she entered the Grand Lodge, she took a seat in the entrance hall and awaited her summons.
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Janos Audron, the Divine Flame wandered the unfamiliar streets of this huge city, pondering the options opening up to him. From time to time, he would stop to ask strangers for directions (and also about the individual in the correspondence ), as he makes his way to this Grand Lodge. “This is such a large and dirty place” he thinks to himself between fantasizing about his heroic future that must surely follow being summoned to the Pathfinder Society HQ.
Just before stepping through the gates, he stops, smooths-out his robes and armor, makes sure his jewelry are sparkling, and lovingly retrieves his Scroll Case. Opening it and unfurling the letter within, Janos reads through one last time before stepping in.. Even the Grand Lodge is huge, and as he makes his way to the meeting place he was called to, he notices an attractive humanling standing and waiting.
Not out of rudeness or “impertinence”, he lets his eyes wander a little “below her eyes”, as the human say, as he takes in her build, with a charming smile, and noticing she is an outlander like him, though seeming less comfortable with the weather. . .
After approaching, he says “Milady, I am the Purifying Flame, Janos Audron”, followed by Janos raising his hand to his forehead, then his heart, and whirling around gracefully into a customary Qadiran (middle eastern) bow, waiting for the lady to extend her hand that he might kiss it as is customary in chivalrously. “You look cold, might I offer my cloak?” Janos’s voice is a strange accent, a mixture of Elven, Celestial, and Qadiran, for a very exotic, melodic voice. His cloths are also both exotic and odd, a mixture of Andoran’s western dress and Qadiran desert robes over armor, and partially concealing stylized tattoos common in foreign lands and amongst some barbaric tribes.
“Are you a Pathfinder as well? I am certainly glad to be sharing such beautiful company. I had feared I would be the first here, and would be waiting alone. I am happy to make your acquaintance(s) though before going out on a mission, to get to know you and pass the time in intelligent conversation. Where do you come from, for example? What sort of things do you specialize in, if I may ask?”
Create dot.
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Dakkon Tyranthul boldly strides into the Pathfinder Lodge, always wary for trouble and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice if need be- you could rarely trust anyone not from the Empire these days.
Entering the entrance hall he saw a few strangers also waiting.
Must I wait to see the Venture-Captain behind this riff-raff? How demeaning he thinks bitterly as he enters.
Giving the others within the room a stiff bow, Dakkon clears his throat and announces himself formally as Dakkon of the esteemed Tyranthul Family, citing both his lineage and the deeds of his house. He does not wait for a response, or for them to introduce themselves; but begins to sit in the corner, seemingly muttering to himself bitterly.
OOC: Dakkon's a bit of an arrogant, rude ass... Classic spoilt Taldor noble patriot... Don't take it personally :).
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Wadi approaches the Pathfinder Lodge with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not only for being summoned for his first mission, but also the package he received from his contact. How can he reconcile this with his nature, he wonders. Ah well, it is time to meet his companions.
"Hello all, milady,"nodding at Nyria. "I am looking forward to this mission, and to seeing what new discoveries we can add to the knowledge of the Pathfinder Society."
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To the others "Did he say his family are tyrants?" as he nods his head towards Dakkon, apprehensively.
Giving the others within the room a stiff bow, Dakkon clears his throat and announces himself formally as Dakkon of the esteemed Tyranthul Family, citing both his lineage and the deeds of his house.
Janos returns Wadi's bow, and offers to shake his hand in greeting. "Wonderful to meet you. I am Janos Audron Seeker and devotee of The Holy Inferno. My specialties are fighting undead, healing, negotiation, and making sure that no one dies while we do the good works.
I work well with others, but I will not abide either slavery nor necromanic disturbing of the dead."
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As Allara enters the grand hall, shaking the water from her cloak, she crosses the room to the wating clerk with her scroll in her hand barely pausing long enough to take in the others waiting in the hall.
"I have a meeting with Venture-Captain Hestram and I believe he is expecting me" she says to the unmoving clerk flashing a,patently false, smile.
While waiting for the STILL unmoving clerk to escort her to her meeting Allara eyes the others waiting about in the grand hall.
"Hmmm, interesting lot this", she thinks to herself, she nods to the other woman seated in the hall and begins eyeing the men closely. Noticing the holy symbol around the neck of the one wearing armor her eyes widen slightly " a priest of Sarenrae, best be wary of that one.'as her inner monologue continues. "The pretty boy has some potential and the spoiled dilettante may have some use as well"
"Good day, all" she says out loud "are we all waiting for the good Venture-Captain as well?"
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"And to you good sir, . . ., I didn't catch your name." "And this is lady Nyria. "Fora moment, Janos gets a slightly crazy look in his eye, as if staring through Wadi, or puzzling something out "I sense we have, . . ., there is, . . . you feel The Flame's call as well?"
As Allara enters, Janos does a double take, intrigued and cautious. With a slight wink and charming, but friendly smile, he says, "Madame".
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Wadi wonders what Janos is staring at, it seems like he can read his mind almost. When he sees Allara, he nearly loses his mask of composure. Oh no, they sent her to watch me! Do they suspect me of being disloyal?. When her gaze meets him, it takes all of his skills to feign pleasure at her company. "Allara, I am so glad to meet you! Such a pleasure to finally see you! and you are even more lovely than I imagined you to be! He gives her a gentle hug, as if they were long lost relatives.
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The clerk looks up from the scroll she was reading and over the massive mound of books piled precariously around her desk.
"Yes yes, all of you are here to see the Venture-Captain. You'll have to wait a few minutes, he is engaged in other business. You may have a seat."
With that, she nods towards the lightly padded chairs the others have seated themselves in, and returns to her reading.
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Stepping back from Wadi Allara says "Do I know you, sir? If so, I'm afraid you have the better of me. I'm Allara Devereaux, of House Devereaux, in Westcrown. I've been in Absalom for a few months now studying at the Mages Guild and have only recently joined the Pathfinders. I find learning in the real world to be much more enjoyable than studying a dusty old tome in the library."
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Nyria looked at her new companions with an appraising look. To Janos, she smiles and nods at his greeting, proferring her hand so that he might kiss it.
"Auspicious greetings, Janos Audron," she replies in Kelish, "I am Nyria, the Sandsworn." As Dakkon enters, making a grand show of it, Nyria rolls her eyes. Typical grand-standing Taldor, she thinks to herself. A good example of why I left the nobility in the first place.
She smiles at Wadi, introducing herself in the same manner as she had with Janos, albeit in Common. As Allara entered, Nyria observed her carefully. She hadn't expected another woman to be in the party, especially one so... statuesque. Lifting her hand lazily to her wrapped head, she flicked it down to reveal her delicately-tanned face, which was framed by her chocolate brown hair, which matched her chocolate brown eyes. She watched the exchange between Allara and Wadi with a little interest, wondering why Wadi had the confidence to speak to her so easily.
As the clerk spoke, Nyria looked at her and smiled, mouthing a thank you.
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Earlier to Nyria "You have a most beautiful name, madame, though if I am not pressing you, what does Sandsworn mean? It reminds me of a fable, celestial lilies resting peacefully on a sacred oasis in my homeland, grown through a divine blessing by the desert priests to attract gentle birds to the water, but also to ward off those that would overuse and despoil it. It is said that even when the priests were killed by brigands, the lilies forbad them to drink. Though they continued to take their fill, the heavenly lilies, having made an oath to vigil the pool, refused to break their vigil, finally calling the very elementals to their aid. A massive sandstorm struck the band of rogues to drive them away, but even the sandstorm was not allowed to ruin the oasis, even in it’s fury. Or so it was said", Janos continues with a gentle smile "The oath of sand, I believe. "
As the clerk spoke, Nyria looked at her and smiled, mouthing a thank you.
Was that to me or to Allara? the Cleric is male, so just curious. Also, if the character flurting is too much, let me know and I'll stop. I'm not going anywhere with it.
Later to Wadi, after seeing his act "What was that, my friend? It seems you became another person for a time. Your karma seemed to die, and. . ." that weird gaze returns for but a moment, ". . . The Redeeming Flames left you. I have never seen such a thing."
Somewhere in the middle, while still interested in Wadi and Nyria, to Darkkon, but with pure honesty and innocence "Sir, a warrior born does not become a knight sitting alone in a corner. Why not come and share your soul with us? Who knows, maybe we can get them to allow you to accompany us on our mission, and getting to know each other certainly can't hurt your chances."
Finally, to Allara, after seeing it seems everyone else here go a little wacko at her entrance, "I can only speak for good sir Wadi, mistress Nyria and myself so far, but we do await Capt. Venture."
"I supposse that makes four of use. I wonder, shall we be bound together in the sanctity of brother-at-armsmanship? "
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Somewhere in the middle, while still interested in Wadi and Nyria, to Darkkon, but with pure honesty and innocence "Sir, a warrior born does not become a knight sitting alone in a corner. Why not come and share your soul with us? Who knows, maybe we can get them to allow you to accompany us on our mission, and getting to know each other certainly can't hurt your chances."
Dakkon was been attempting to look nonchalant but was quite obviously listening on the whole conversation and studying the others; subtlety is clearly not his strong suit.
"Here for a mission for the Pathfinder's hmm? Perhaps the Captain felt I needed some assistance in whatever task he has for me. I suppose it will do no harm to have you all along; certainly I can perhaps learn more of your cultures and homelands. I will do my best to keep you all safe from harm, provided none of you become a liability. I assume you haven't all had the strict levels of training I have had so I will endeavour to use my expertise in combat to protect you; my Lord Gorum would have it no other way, if thou art to be my boon companions."
Smiling at the Qadiran- "And I shall assume your comment about Tyrants was a light-hearted joke Sir, indeed; it is one I have heard before. Perhaps if I enunciate the name properly we shall avoid confusion- Ty-Ran-Thul; its a soft T."
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** spoiler omitted **
"I'd like to remind you all," he continues, pausing to look at each of you, "That you are working for the Pathfinder Society and the Decemvirate now. You will be expected to set aside all other loyalties and work together, as mandated by the oaths that you have each sworn."
"If you have any questions, now would be the time to ask, but I urge you to keep them short. Time is of the essence."
With that, he begins rolling up the his scroll and stands, looking expectantly at you all.
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Nyria smiled at Janos as he told his story, before finally nodding as he finished.
"Yes, this is a story that I have heard too," she said in Kelish, "However, the origins of my name are nowhere near as grand. I was born into nobility, but my father was not impressed by my choice of profession." Nyria swept open her robe to reveal several alchemical pieces of equipment.
"Having chosen the twin sins of being a Pathfinder and an alchemist, he chose to banish me from our home. In doing so, I forsook my last name and took up the epithet of the Sandsworn," a tinge of sadness crept into her voice as she told of her history.
"However, let us not dwell on the past, I'm sure that the Venture-Captain will be with us soon."
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** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **
"I'd like to remind you all," he continues, pausing to look at each of you, "That you are working for the Pathfinder Society and the Decemvirate now. You will be expected to set aside all other loyalties and work together, as mandated by the oaths that you have each sworn."
"If you have any questions, now would be the time to ask, but I urge you to keep them short. Time is of the essence."
With that, he begins rolling up the his scroll and stands, looking expectantly at you all.
As the Venture-Captain entered, Dakkon gave a deep bow, saluted and listens attentively throughout, making notes in his journal.
"No questions Venture-Captain."
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. . .but recent reports reveal some new nameless terror on her waterlogged streets. Several persons claim to have seen cloaked, skeletal-like figures marching through an unnatural fog. . .
"Capt., you can count on me to see Mr. Yargos back in safety, as well as this archive. However, I would know more of these "wraiths", if we have time. Unnatural fog as well? And is there a likeness of Yargos, so that we know whom we are looking for?"
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"Unfortunately, details on the mysterious figures are scarce. They are all clad in plain, black robes. In an area like the Puddles, thugs would normally wear the symbols of their gangs; the absence of such marks suggests that whatever they are, they don't hold allegiance with the local gangsters.
"Beyond that, the reports all describe the figures to be cloaked in a thick fog, one which follows them as if attached. The few who have seen under the hoods saw skulls, not living heads.
"One last...unusual fact about the cloaked figures, is that they are silent, and seem to absorb sound. They have not claimed many victims, but those few unfortunates never made a sound; no screams or cries at all were heard, which is strange for an area as crowded as The Puddles."
Adril turns to the clerk still scribing away behind the mounds of books.
"Vervori, get me a map of the city so I may direct these new Pathfinders."
After Vervori fishes around the desk for a moment, she hands him a raggedy map, which he flattens out on the table. He carefully marks two locations on the map, one for Yargos' house and another for the Soggy Piper. Once he's finished, he'll hand it to Allara.
"Now if you have no more questions, I bid you good luck. We look forward to issuing your first Chronicle once you've reported your missions success."
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Nyria flicked her hair across her shoulder as she bent down to study the map as well. After a few moment's consideration, she stood up straight again.
"Might I suggest that we start by investigating the home of this Yargos first?" she says in Common.
"That would be prudent. Mayhap we should acquire some common clothing first however? Though I am loathe to don such boring clothing, wearing simple peasant's robes over our clothing should mean we get less trouble; if the district is indeed a stomping ground for the lowlife, lets not give them more reason to hassle us- the last thing we need is the emnity of a local crime lord"
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"That would be prudent. Mayhap we should acquire some common clothing first however? Though I am loathe to don such boring clothing, wearing simple peasant's robes over our clothing should mean we get less trouble; if the district is indeed a stomping ground for the lowlife, lets not give them more reason to hassle us- the last thing we need is the emnity of a local crime lord"Nyria flicked her hair across her shoulder as she bent down to study the map as well. After a few moment's consideration, she stood up straight again.
"Might I suggest that we start by investigating the home of this Yargos first?" she says in Common.
"It might go the other way, however, and give us more trouble as the local gangs think there will be no consequences for attacking us. I do, however, think we should purchase some equipment now that we know where we are headed."
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"It might go the other way, however, and give us more trouble as the local gangs think there will be no consequences for attacking us. I do, however, think we should purchase some equipment now that we know where we are headed.""That would be prudent. Mayhap we should acquire some common clothing first however? Though I am loathe to don such boring clothing, wearing simple peasant's robes over our clothing should mean we get less trouble; if the district is indeed a stomping ground for the lowlife, lets not give them more reason to hassle us- the last thing we need is the emnity of a local crime lord"Nyria flicked her hair across her shoulder as she bent down to study the map as well. After a few moment's consideration, she stood up straight again.
"Might I suggest that we start by investigating the home of this Yargos first?" she says in Common.
"There is little reason to bother those who keep their head down- in common clothing, we do not scream "rich outsiders"."
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Being an actor, I know how easily we slip into and out of our roles we play. Unlike a set of clothing, it is harder to change what you are, at least without the proper training. So Lord Tyranthul, you could change your clothing, but you are still a nobleman, and easily rcognizable as such. Lady Allara is correct."
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Janos just listens to the others suggestions patiently, noting how Wadi seems to fall into Allara's lead, but saying nothing.
"Purchasing equipement is a wise decision, I agree. Is there a place we could purchase a map of the area? Perhaps something warmer for lady Nyria as well?
Lastly, know you anything of Mr. Gill's associates? Or common activities for that matter? An place he might be hiding or working?"
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I Believe such subterfuge would be highly unneccesary, unless the more martial of us would like to forgo wearing their armor or their weapons? We are not common riff raff and would have a hard time posing as such.
"Did you not listen? I am merely suggesting a large, plain cloak or robe over our armour and clothing. I am not suggesting we truly slip into the role of a commoner, merely look less out-of-place at a glance, or from a distance."
Talking to these people is like wrestling a bone from a dog... Dakkon thinks to himself. At least the Actor shows the proper respect...
OOC: Can people try and post with their correct aliases, I get it wrong myself sometimes so I know its a pain but it helps clarity- you can edit your posts and change the alias you posted with if you catch it quickly.
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"Then let us go" Janos says as he heads out of the Lodge towards the area the map showed.
I'm also going to use Touch of Glory on myself, for later.
Dakkon sighs heavily and leaves with the rest of the group.
At least if we get trouble from locals I can remind them; and my would-be-companions that Taldor steel is not to be trifled with Dakkon thinks to himself. He marches to the front of the group, long cloak flowing behind him as he keeps an eye out for potential trouble.
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Nyria followed the group, rolling her eyes at what she took as false bravado from the Taldor noble. As they make their way out of the Grand Lodge, she performed a quick check of the equipment below her robes. Five vials contained a liquid catalyst that could be turned into bombs at short notice, as well as a mutagen that would affect her Constitution. Over her shoulder, there was a light crossbow and two quivers hung at her hips. Finally, a dagger swung in its scabbard at her thigh. For a noble, she was remarkably well-armed, but she wasn't about to let her new partners-in-arms become aware of that quite yet.