(1) Atalantia - Scourge of Magic

Game Master mdt

How about these natural 20s after combat?

Assuming the first 1d5 roll was for who I found, ignore this if I've misinterpreted:

"Connor! Boy, am I glad to see you. That was hairier than I thought it would be, that's for sure. I got a crate, but there's so little left of the place that I'm not entirely sure what we should do with it...."

Alister = Correct

At this point, you can all assume you get back to your various homes/bases/etc.

ROUND 3

The roof of the building they were in surges upward as lightning strikes up and out of it, bloody red lightning and green fire explode out of the walls, blowing huge chunks out them. A secondary explosion detonates as well, leaving half the building collapsed in on itself.

After another minute, the two groups are mixed in with other fliers either fleeing the area, or struggling to make it toward the area.

We are in free play mode again, as the two mixed and separated groups regroup and recoup.

Head to wings: don't fail me now! Connor thought desperately as he strained to fly through the shockwave of the explosion behind them. Wings to head: next time, leave when we tell you to. Connor thought to himself as other fliers criss-crossed his path before and behind him in the chaos.

Things finally settled down long enough for Connor to hear Alister shouting at him. Connor drifted closer as he flew.

"Connor! Boy, am I glad to see you. That was hairier than I thought it would be, that's for sure. I got a crate, but there's so little left of the place that I'm not entirely sure what we should do with it...."

Connor laughed, long and hard. "We take it! It's practically all we get for risking our lives." He sent a telepathic message to Hero, whom he hoped was still with the blonde elfavian. Stay with the female if you can, Hero. I'll catch up tomorrow. After some sleep and shopping.

At this point, you can all assume you get back to your various homes/bases/etc.

Connor left his room, looking somewhat better with additional bandages and his face and hands washed from the fireplace explosion. Walking slowly and carefully because of his injuries, he knocked three times on Reaghar's door, and then on Alister's door. Entering Alister's room, Connor met the eyes of the larger man, saying "I'm about to go to the dead-drop to leave a message about tonight. Since most of the shops are closed, I say we wait until morning to go shopping."

(If Alister agrees to meet in his room.)

(Mdt, were the McIntyre Team supposed to work tonight, or is this our night off? It matters, because one of us needs to stay with the crate at all times, Connor can pull 'sick' and stay here after dropping off the message.)

I think Connor was trying get the groups to work together and alys was also seeing some advantages in that. Although she'd not lead them to the guild HQ.

(But you have Hero the psicrystal now, and he can be tracked. ;) )

Connor laughed, long and hard. "We take it! It's practically all we get for risking our lives."

"Aye, I suppose. Or at least, all that we've got so far."

Connor left his room, looking somewhat better with additional bandages and his face and hands washed from the fireplace explosion. Walking slowly and carefully because of his injuries, he knocked three times on Reaghar's door, and then on Alister's door. Entering Alister's room, Connor met the eyes of the larger man, saying "I'm about to go to the dead-drop to leave a message about tonight....

Alister's fine meeting in his room.

Alister's successfully changed, the hole-ridden, bloody shirt he'd been wearing resting comfortably in a trash can nearby.

"That's fine. Not too interested in shopping, myself, right now. I'm still pretty banged up, but I oughta be fine. We need to get that message out ASAP, though.

Edited for days off.

You had two days off, so one day off left.

I didn't add the tattoo's, because you already specifically took those, that list was things you likely stuffed in a backpack.

(But you have Hero the psicrystal now, and he can be tracked. ;) )

Thanks for reminding me, I wanted to smash that into powder so i can experiment on it.

Alys sits at the common room table feeling like a complete hypocrite, first she chastised Sam for having a potion in the building, now here she is with a full crate of magic items.

And the best part: No idea what to do with it. If she is going to pop it open, she'd rather attempt that away from the building, or any other people. And more yet, away from herself. Is there even anything to be gained from looking at the items? They already have a solid lead toward the disposal authority, but there are still questions. Do the smugglers retrieve items from Ash or do they get drops from someone inside the authority?

Connor left the message at the dead drop, and wearily, cautiously, went back to the flophouse. He just wanted sleep. But first, he was going to check in on Alister's wounds with his healer's kit, as well as Reaghar. (Yes, I know Alister has Rapid Metabolism, and Connor can't use the healer's kit on himself due to Heal skill rules.)

"Bah, I survived it. I'll be fine, I swear, he says, but after a little bit of struggling, lets Connor look over his wounds, anyway.

(With full bed rest over the next day Alister can get back 16 hp vs. just 4 hit points. Connor doesn't have the Heal skill, but he does have a healer's kit along with a book. This would also be a good time to start teaching Alister how to read.)

(Connor can only regain 2 hp over the next day for himself.)

Alister has Rapid Metabolism. He recovers 9HP per night resting normally. Also, we're not level 2 yet, the level-up happens over the jump if I'm not mistaken.

Correct, when the jump occurs, I just wanted to give warning so people could be thinking about what to do.

Reaghar hangs out with his group, sticking mostly to the plan. Not sure what to think of what transpired.

Waiting on Sammark and Selven to post, since Alys has no drop information, having been recruited by the Guild.

Sam has spent his two days of freedom nursing his wounds and liquor. He was not allowed alcohol as a paroled criminal and after their first semi-successful venture, he celebrated by getting black-out drunk. Regretting nothing, but holding a block of ice to his head with a minor manifestation of psionic skill, he finds Alys in the common area.

"You seem troubled," he offered.

Alys looks up at Sammark as he approaches: "I suppose I should apologize. This time I brought the ticking time bomb back, and this one is even bigger."

"And I don't even know what to do with it. We can't risk cracking it open. And even so, I doubt there would be document tracking previous handlers inside. We didn't really get anywhere and almost died in the process."

(Connor will spend the next day taking care of Alister, being remarkably surprised at how fast Alister is healing, teaching Alister basic letters from the books he has, and becoming annoyed that there has been no response from the Clan Mintakia handlers.)

(When he goes out for meals for himself and Alister, Connor will try to listen in about any news about the explosion from that night in the city.)

Still waiting on Selvan to advance the plots, so lack of response from mintakia handlers is not necessarily a real problem.

Ok, I'm not going to wait anymore. I'd like to get everyone to a point where they can RP again after such a long combat. I'll assume that Sammark eventually wrote a note in the drop box, or Selvan did.

Please don't post responses until I post an all clear, I have several posts to make.

Both groups drop off some notes in one of the drop points, one they haven't used yet. Two days later, while asleep, some highly trained operatives sneak in and toss some contact sleep poison on everyone.

When they wake up, all 7 people find themselves in the same room, all sitting on uncomfortable couches. An elven woman is sitting behind a desk, with the two cases sitting on it, and she's fuming. As everyone begins to wake up at the same time, with moist lips (counteragent?), she goes into rant mode.

"What the shtock did you lot of insane morons do?! You brought down a magical firefight in the middle of the shtocking city?!?! Do you know how much damage was done? How much panic? And rotting skinned bodies flung 5 blocks! Five blocks! Some of them landed on a clinic! And some on a school!" She stands up, her bat like wings fluttering in anger. Then she slams her fist down on the left hand crate, making the table shudder. "And two crates of magical items! From the vaults of the Magical Disposal Bureau no less! And no serial numbers on them! But the contents were sent to ash no less than 2 months ago! I know, I sealed the shtocking things up myself in a Scourge Chest!" The woman, who still hasn't introduced herself, is absolutely livid, in a towering rage. "These crates are the only shtocking reason I haven't had the lot of you tossed back in whatever jail they dug you out of!!!!"

"Now now, Mirandi, go easy on them. They did a darn good job considering how untrained they were." A voice cuts through the rant, a deep male voice from above. As the PCs look up, they see Kalvant (who most of them met at one point or another) is sitting on a balcony on the second floor of the room. As their eyes clear, they realize they are sitting in a library of some sort, four floors, covered in books, with smaller and smaller concentric balconies on each floor, until the skylight above (which has a landing built into it). The man drops from the third floor balcony and lands hard on the floor, his wings not even bothering to open (much). "Let's see what they did, shall we?" He holds up his left hand, and begins ticking things off. "Primus, they located the major supplier in South Quarter, and they took him out and captured his stash. Secundus, they found out why your people were being killed, you've got a traitor in the MDB, and they obviously have the pull to find out who you have working under cover. Tertius, they found out that old Korvagga is still alive, and she's found some way to actually use magic again. Quartus, they managed to team up without loss of life, even the South Quarter folks got out without loss of life. Well, other than this Kol person's grunts." The big muscled man obviously doesn't consider that a loss at all. "Quintus, they managed to do this with just six operatives." He suddenly breaks off, and visibly counts. "What the shtock?! Why do we have seven people?" He walks down the line and leans over, his crooked nose directly in Elrohir's face. "Who the shtock are you?!" Before he can answer, the man turns around to the woman. "Why'd you bring a civvy in on this?"

The female elvavian puts her fists on her hips, and leans forward, glaring at the male elvavian with a look that could kill. "You told me that the people at that address were the operatives you recruited, so I brought everyone at that address. You and your shtocking stupid spy games! Moron!" She glares at the man, then at the 7 sitting on the couches, and then sighs. "Much as I hate to admit it, and I'll deny it in public if you ever tell anyone, I think my husband may have a point. My apologies, you did accomplish a good deal, and I should be grateful. Please excuse my rudeness. I suppose I'm still in shock at both the amount of damage done to South Quarter, and that there's a traitor in the Magical Disposal Bureau." She sighs, and sits on the desk, facing the 7 on the couch. She looks pointedly at Elrohir. "You on the other hand, are a problem. I may have to arrest you under the State Secrets Act of 1238." She says with complete sincerity. Turning to the rest, she gives a sigh. "Well, you are not the people I would have hired, but you did get the job done. Now, please tell me in greater detail what happened, from the time you were recruited to the time you woke up here. And my apologies about how you got here..." She nods at the big man, who's now grinning. "... He insisted it was vital to your covers."

Up until now, it's been very obvious that speaking up would have been bad with a capital Mistake. However, things seem to have calmed down, and you are free to talk to each other, or Mirandi, or Kalvant.

At first, Elrohir was a bit taken aback and cowed by the elvavian lady and all her shouting. He hadn't done anything wrong after all, but he was being blamed, which reminded him too much of how he had to flee his village.

Then however, this other elvavian, commended them on a job well done. That made him feel a lot better, especially how he presented the facts. But then the man starts questioning Flick's presence and the woman claims she might have him arrested. For what? He didn't do anything.

"I'll have you know I am the young man whose arrows more or less took the life of Kol. I see no reason to want to arrest me, as I was just helping my companions out. They needed an extra pair of eyes, and clearly my bow as well." He says rather defensively and also boldly. He knew he was telling the truth about how much he contributed to killing Kol.

Kalvant has been brooding, looking thoughtful as Elrohir defends himself. Then he jerks upright. "Sextus! They proved Clan Reville is not behind the smuggling! That's the one I couldn't remember. That'll stick in old Jalice's craw alright. Shtock, I'd give my left pinfeathers to put something in her craw, and I got it for free." He grins, completely ignoring Elrohir's defense it seems.

"Well, I got us a job with Reville, thinking they had something to do with it all. Wanted to get closer to their warehouses, rub elbows with their leaders eventually, that sort of thing. Heard rumors of some shipments that might be going on. We were working our way towards landing a job on that gig, but then this lead turned out to be big. Connor did his share of the thinking, and everyone's share of the talking... He'll probably back-brief you for days"

this is me presenting it as i remember it. i dont have time to really re-read all the posts, so my memory may be flawed. Other PCs, please feel free to correct my account IC, GM, please do so IC or OOC if necessary.

Mirandi rolls her eyes. "Oh shut up about her, if you'd let me blow her brains out on the Dawnflower, you wouldn't have to deal with her today." She turns back to Elrohir, and nods. "I'm sure you did, Elrohir was it? I have no joy in this, but what you have heard today,through no fault of your own, is classified. Just knowing it requires me to arrest you and put you in an isolated place so you can't tell anyone."

Kalvant grins at Reaghar's description of Connor's mouth.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24 Sense Motive

"Whoa, I did nothing wrong, and if what I learned here is so classified, why did you bring me here in the first place? Just to arrest me after you decided to tell me stuff I'm not supposed to know. I mean, ya coulda just left me in my bed. Way I see it, its your fault I'm here and your fault I know this classified info. Maybe you should be the one arrested, for so blatantly revealing top secret intel." He shoots back, clearly pissed.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

"Your games get more and more complicated. All this cloak and dagger stuff'll give you grey hairs before your two hundredth, mate," Sammark says dismissively to the man ostensibly in charge. He yawns and leans back, closing his eyes and feigning sleep for now.

"Yeah, why not just sign him on, make him sign a nondisclosure agreement or something. Rather than let talent go to waste in prison, where he would likely wait to be called out of again by you because you think he thinks he owes you something. That ain't how people really think."

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23 Sense motive for first

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13 Sense motive for second

Selvan goes into exhaustive detail about the events from his recruitment up until now including his failure to attempt to bring the three into a cooperative unit as shown by Aly's injuries and lack of Discipline and Sammark's total lack of respect. His ignorance about the other team. How they stumbled into a gunfight in progress.

HAving been silent and emotionless as a soldier at attention beign grilled by a team of highly trained drill seargants this entire time Selvan simply gives his tactical insight. "Maam, while the deaths were indeed regrettable and an unintended consequence of our mission this violent turn of events will still prove advantageous for us. The people of the south quarter were unaware of our true intentions upon arrival and believed us to belong to a rival gang attempting to take Kol's territory. The explosion was a terrible circumstance involving an insane fundamentalist caster and unstable magic items; an inevitable event in the trade that Kol was plying in the south quarter. Any witnesses to our operation are dead and the explosion and gun fight for all intents and purposes was in no way linked to us or to the " Selvan pauses. "other team. Secrecy is still our advantage in this campaign. Further it will illustrate the dangers of possessing such contraband and may help curtail their sale for the time being. However I understand that much of this is merely circumstantial and in no way excuses the collateral damage, therefore if any punishment must be meted than I take full responsibility for the actions of my team."

Once done he turns to Elrohir.

"You will show respect to a superior officer and to the law of our people. I for one agree that you should be arrested and placed in jail and since this has all but been decided" Selvan turns to Kalvant. "I would request that this man be recruited into our team under the same terms as were given to us."

Flick stares daggers back at Selvan "Arrested for what? Being kidnapped in the middle of the night, after I was poisoned, then being told classified information because Miss Ragypants over here got all worked up and never noticed somebody who apparently didn't belong?"

He turns back to Mirandi "Look lady, up until a few minutes ago, when you decided you were so pissed off at us that you couldn't bother to count past six, and thus spilled the beans to me of some super secret mission, all I knew was that I was helping my buddies out. I didn't know anything about, well, anything really. I was asked to be an extra pair of eyes, and fire my bow at the 'bad guys'. Which I did. Quite well."

"'Superior Officer'? Soldier-boy, you seem to forget he isn't in the organization. He doesn't have a superior officer."

"Hah! I like you already, bug-boy," Sam says to Elrohir, snapping out of his feigned nap. "Sadly I'm pretty sure these two couldn't give a tinker's cuss about your rights. I should still be on parole but here I am, strong-armed into a shadow war for them."

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16 know history.

"I disagree." Selvan says calmly. "Under the Militia Reinforcement act of 1202 the moment you allowed him to accompany you on your mission you accepted him as a temporary irregular in your team taking on full responsibility for his actions and fate in regards to your mission marking him under your command. However if you deny such an action took place then you admit to divulging state secrets to a no clearance civilian which in and of itself is a treasonous offense under the State Secrets Act of 1238 punishable by a life sentence or death by firing squad. In short, you either recruited him into the organization or committed treason."

Selvan takes a deep breath and continues. "However if my request is fulfilled this man may continue to operate under the auspice of the organization in question including the full benefits and clearance as such with the understanding that should his knowledge be revealed he will be punished under the full force of the law. You could attempt to hire a lawyer and bring this to court, but under the law which maam has cited this man forfeits all rights in any case where revealing such information would be a danger to state security." After this Selvan leans in. "Like it or not you've been dragged into a position by your friends where you can either spend the rest of your natural life in a deep dark hole or acquiesce to the possibility of continuing to aid them under my superior's mercy. You have no rights here but you have a choice to cooperate or continue your useless string of insults. That is all." Selvan leans back into his at attention position never minding that at the end of the day he might be executed as well.

Sam scowled, "Including the wet blanket there, it's three."

Kalvant smiles wryly. "Nice try, Kilvani. You can quote the law with the best of them. I can quote 2 or 3 laws on the books that aren't exactly published widely if you like. As to hiring him on, I'm not opposed to it, if he can keep his shtocking mouth shut. He apparently was pretty good in a dangerous situation, which is a positive thing. But if he can't keep his mouth from running his arse into a meat grinder, he's too shtocking stupid to be chanced running around free." The big man hesitates, and then turns back to Selvan. "You should also be a bit more careful in your assumptions. You have a decent brain in your head, but you don't always use it, Kilvani. You make assumptions, and you then act on those assumptions without attempting to find out if they were accurate. That's dangerous, and it's unforgivable in someone who wants to lead men or be a soldier. Until you learn to keep that under control, you're going to be useless as a leader."

Mirandi bites her lip and looks pensive.

"Hmm, I have already agree'd it's a regrettable situation, Elrohir. Not one I like. Do you think you can keep your mouth closed long enough to consider your options rationally? I'm afraid you have landed in a situation not of your own making." She glances at the rest of the assembled people. "That actually makes you unique in this group, every single one of them did something that got them into this situation. I've looked over the backgrounds on all of them. Some did something criminally stupid, some did something socially suicidal. You are the only one, from my reading, who actually hasn't done anything. Which of course, is why you end up being the one most likely to end up in a prison cell somewhere." She shrugs. "That's just how the fates are. So, are you interested in trying to stay out of prison, or are you more interested in insulting me? I assure you, I've been insulted by far better insulters than you. Ms. Ragypants? Really? I've had the head of the McIntyre Third Fleet call me every dirty name in the book, and believe me, she knows 8 languages." Her lips curve in a grin.

(21 IC and 11 OOC posts just because I went to bed early with a sinus headache! That'll teach me to skip roleplay with you out-of-timezone nightbirds. Ugh!)

Connor was dreaming. It wasn't one of his better dreams. There was a rather pretty elfavian woman shouting at him. Oh, and Reaghar was here. And Elrohir. And the elvavians and half-elf from Kol's hideout. Even Alister. Why were they in his dream? Then a new elfavian man was there. He was shouting too. He landed nearby, his feet making a shockwave across the floor like the explosion of Kol's hideout in the South Quarter. Connor didn't like this dream. His mouth was dry. His head felt swollen. It wasn't a hangover - Connor had only had thin ale last night. The pretty elfavian was shouting again. Other people were talking, their voices like ripples in water.

"He doesn't have a superior officer."

Reaghar's gravelly voice said something familiar. Connor eyes drifted to where he was sitting. This couch had to be the most uncomfortable thing he had ever sat on with stitching in his life. The figures in his dream were talking again. He had never seen them before in his life. The elfavian was saying something about leadership. He had wrapped arms and fists with bandages. That meant fighter. No, it meant unarmed fighter. The other male elfavian, the one from the other vigilantes, said something complex back. What a strange dream, Connor decided. The female elfavian was easier to look at, but she had guns on her hips. Guns. Kol's hideout had guns. Connor still needed to sell the guns they had taken from there.

HEY! WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPTHISISNOTADREAMWE'REINTROUBLE! came a thunderous voice in Connor's head, and he swooned on the couch. Wait. He knew that voice. His voice.

All of a sudden Connor was underwater but going up. The water thinned. Connor heard a voice clearly say,

- Really? I've had the head of the McIntyre Third Fleet call me every dirty name in the book, and believe me, she knows 8 languages."

And Connor broke through the surface. The room came into painful, over-bright clarity. He was sitting on a couch. So were all his prison friends, the others from Kol's hideout, and the newbie. Connor blinked his eyes as they teared up from the sunlight. He opened his mouth, his lips cracking with dryness, and croaked "For future reference, I believe I have an allergic reaction to whatever gas or liquid or powder you used to knock us out. Or to whatever you used to bring us out." to everyone in the room.

Connor looked over at the two new people. "McIntyre Fleet captains are particularly keen about their officers' loyalty. If you want to hurt Jalice, get two or more of her bo'suns to defect to another ship." he drawled. Connor looked at the two new people. "I can give a detailed report if you wish." he began. "You sent us as undercover agents to find out where all the magical items were coming into the city. We found at least one major supplier who was also an up-and-coming gang lord in the South Quarter. We took him and his gang out without casualties," Connor said, a quick glance in Alister's direction, "found the magical items, found evidence of an actual conspiracy to reroute cleared and dispatched magical items back into Atalntia port, and covered up our escape with sufficient destruction so nothing the gang lord had can ever be used again." Connor licked his over-dry lips, and continued, his voice strengthening. "The facts that the half-orc had access to government-sealed material, as well as a major magic user was living in the building, should be sufficient reason for us either to continue our undercover mission, or for you to send up your report to higher authorities. Unless you think one of those higher-ups might be the traitor causing the Scourge Chests to be sold back again into the city. Someone near the head of the Magical Disposal Bureau, I would guess. Someone either with a vendetta against our 'no magic' policy, someone trying to disprove the wild magic storms, or someone just using the ensuing chaos that magical item dispersal would cause in Atalantia."

Connor leaned back in the couch, wincing from his still-wrapped wounds as he did, and added "And at least personally, you can add 'came in under budget' to that report." Connor put on his best poker face to the two government officials.

Kalvant looks at Connor as he comes out of it, and a snort of amusement is heard. "Hah, so next time I'll just have you beaten unconscious then, seemed to work the last time we met, not that you remember it. You got a halfway decent punch in before I drove your head through that bar." Kalvant laughs, and a vague memory of a large elvavian in a cloak in the bar where Reaghar, Alister, and Conner first met swims into Connor's memory, along with the fact that the man punched like a mule. "Easier said than done, the last one I managed to talk into doing that she got drummed out of the service on trumped up charges." He winces. "And I got stuck with the annoying little purple shtockty. So not gonna go there again. As to the magic user, you just forget about her. She wasn't involved with the magic item smuggling. Everything else is likely spot on though."

So he was the one. Connor thought to himself. He still had a long way to go before he could defend himself like his uncles and brothers wanted him to.

"So what's your flea-bitten hunting dogs' next course of action?" Connor asked, using one of the terms the McIntyre heads threw about the dinner table. "Kol was our only lead. Unless these guys had more?" Connor asked, looking at the three others from Kol's hideout.

"Look lady, your people skills suck worse than a five copper hooker. Next time, try leading with something far less hostile. I have no problem continuing to help my friends, though I hope that doesn't include the man who apparently has a broadsword stuck up his ass" Flick says indicating Selvan.

Kalvant's eyes fly open wide, and growl comes from his throat, the only thing that stops his foot from stomping Elrohir into the back of the couch is Mirandi's hand, which grabs his foot before he can snap it forward and shatter Elrohir's spine (from the front).

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (18) + 18 = 36

Kalvant stands there, on the toes of one foot, looking at Mirandi. "Now now, the last time you did that it took me six months to replace the books you ruined with blood splatter." She tells him gently, holding his eye until he puts the foot back down.

Bluff: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 35
Elrohir Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Damage: 1d6 + 1 + 1d4 ⇒ (3) + 1 + (2) = 6 1d6+1 is Subdual, 1d4 is actual HP

Mirandi's fist slams into Elrohir's face, snapping his head back. There's also a flash of purple energy as the fist hits. "I have had it with you, shtockbrain. If you insult me one more time, I'll personally disrupt every pattern in your body and feed what's left of you to dragonlings." She hisses, eyes flashing. "Clan Selstravi does not put up with such things! Do you understand me?" She steps back, nostrils flaring. "You can take him with you Kalvant, throw him somewhere deep and dark and with no windows."

aaaand that might be my que to exit the game. I'm not a fan of such blatant railroading...

"Newbie!" Connor snapped. He didn't like Elrohir being hit like that, but the adolescent was letting his mouth do the thinking. "I'll apologize for him, leaders." Connor said hurriedly, using the elvan term. "As they say, 'Adolescents fly higher and higher.' This one has been sufficiently brought back down, wouldn't you agree?" Connor's voice quaked with fear.

"Elrohir is my fault - but he was useful in the battle. He can continue to be useful, correct? For his speed and his bow, if nothing else." Connor apologized. "Returning to the matter at hand, what is our next step?" Anything to change the conversation.

Mirandi's nostrils flare again, but she takes a deep breath. "You are correct, Connor. I truly am sorry this has happened, as I said, it's no fault of his own that he's here. But I will not countenance having the honor of my clan insulted again. If he can keep a civil tongue in his head..." She trails off, and visibly brings herself back under control. "Perhaps emotions are running a bit high all around. If your charge will watch his tongue, we'll forget that the preceeding happened. If he is willing to swear to keep his mouth shut about what he's learned, I'll give him one chance. He can leave now, or stay, but if he stays, he's your responsibility Connor of Clan McIntyre."

"Formerly of Clan McIntyre. Former." Connor said under his voice, almost to himself. He looked at the colors on his shirt cuffs, then up at the two unknown elfavians. "We are for Clan Mintakia now, correct? Ignoring the Clan Reville colors on me - and my warehouse watchman job. A successful mission means we are adopted into Mintakia, no matter our colors?"
untrained Diplomacy to smooth things over: 1d20 ⇒ 19