A Quest for Heroes

Game Master Billybrainpan

The Steel Falcon walks over to Zystra and Eloron.

"Not much left to learn here." He stares at the scale for a moment. "Nereloth is larger than any wyrm I've faced, judging from the size of that. Azriel, is this what you need?"

"we are not alone, we are watched by some figure in black leathers, then it disappeared in smoke... "

Eloron points to the spot where moments before he spotted the black clad figure.

"The princess was here, it seems she ran about before disappearing right her next to this man, let me look at this scale..."
Eloron takes the scale, sniffs it licks it and then turns it over in his hands...

"What? There was someone else here? I saw nothing." The Steel Falcon looks around, and draws his swords. "Where are you? Show yourself!"

"yes someone or thing, slim and dressed in black, smelled clean.. crisp like fresh air... crouched there by the carriage, gone now I think"

Eloron sniffs the air to confirm his thought...

Eloron can get the dragon's scent from the scale but as for size and age only a rough estimate. He's probably somewhere near the top of middle-sized dragons, mid to old age

As soon as The Steel Falcon's words leave his lips, his wish is granted. Three people appear in front of the carriage in a cloud of smoke.

A tall slim figure clad from head to toe in deep black leathers a nasty looking rapier in hand.
A young woman with long brown hair, a dark cloak covers a fine chain shirt. She holds an identical rapier.
And in the middle a nasty looking fellow clad in wicked spiked full-plate, he wields an equally dangerous looking glaive. He is the one to speak.

"Is this all the King has to offer, a frail old elf, a little girl, and a bird. Focus everything on the big one, the others wont be a problem."

Initiative (Steel Falcon): 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (20) + 25 = 45
Initiative (Eloron): 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (8) + 26 = 34
Initiative (Azriel): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23
Initiative (Zystra): 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (1) + 19 = 20

INITIATIVE
Steel falcon
Eloron
Azriel
Zystra
Rapier lady
Skinny leather
Spikey McGlaive

Map

The Steel Falcon nods his head towards the trio.

"I am afraid, despite your kindness in revealing yourself, that I cannot reciprocate your underestimation. My responsibilities require I take you seriously, all appearance to the contrary."

He vanishes.

Eloron grins widely, his eyes blazing... he charges!
"Rahgggggg RAor!!raHHGGGGGG!!!!! I WILL FEED MY HUNGER!

Eloron burst forward with impossible speed for a being of his size.
As he moves Eloron seems to grow even larger growing in size as he runs crashing forward towards the center figure.

Before the spiked man finishes his last word The Steel Falcon vanishes from sight. The front man blinks in surprise, plenty enough time for Eloron to cross the distance in a handful of strides. He barely has time to shout before he is cleaved clean in two from head to groin.

The other two stare in shock as the two halves of their companion crumple to the ground.

Im assuming that you stop 5 ft shorter than you put your figure due to your reach weapon.

yes sorry abut that

We don't have time for this, why do you even bother?

In a blink Azriel is father away then seems possible, fire dances around the foes and the very air seems dry as dust.

The two foes still standing begin to choke and cough dust, their skin visibly cracks. As Azriel unleashes his second spell they both try to dive out of the way, but the on in leather catches his foot on a broken wheel, stumbling and catching the full force of the fireball. As the smoke clears you can see he managed to stay on his feet, but just barely. His armor and skin are badly burned, part of his mask has burned away to reveal pale skin and a long pointed ear, both singed. The woman manages to leap clear of the fireball, but Azriel's first spell took its toll, she looks like she could crumble to dust at any moment.

Assuming I'm the blue figure behind sherdyl

Zystra glides up silently, not running but gliding across the ground faster than the eye can follow. She squares up directly between the two dazed foes and begins a rapid assault of blows.

In an instant Zystra downs the two remaining foes. They hit the ground with dull thuds. Clearly these foes were not up to the challenge.

The Steel Falcon steps out from behind the carriage. He looks from the foes to Zystra.

"We didn't kill all of them, did we?"

Does the fortified sparrow think me a complete amateur? Worry not, these two should yet draw breath. We'll truss them up at our leisure and see what meager knowledge has not yet get dripped from the sieves they call minds. As to Eloron's foe... I shouldn't bet much coin on his recovery.

Eloron calms and shrinks at the sight of his defeated foes, disappointed.
"They seemed so sure and now this?"

Eloron stoops over his fallen foe now in two pieces, rummaging through the corpses belongings looking for anything of interest.

This may have been more a trap then not, something was watching...

Looking around, glancing nervously his eyes flaring with purple arcane energies.

Search the corpse, we will take the other two with us, we should leave this place.

Azriel, reaches out one hand as if to grasp someones hand, and with his other makes a circular gesticulation.

Indeed. But are the watcher and the puppet master masks worn by one head or two? For a group informed of our coming, they seemed woefully outmatched. Whoever was pulling these strings might as well have sent a mannequin to slay a lion. Even if their purpose was nothing more than to gauge our strength, this little disagreement will leave the mind behind the eyes naught the wiser.

Zystra slowly searches the fallen bodies, then ties up the two unconscious foes without any great hurry.

Azriel nods almost absentmindedly to Zystra's words.

I am worried that they were intentionally outmatched, and there is some more calculating intellect behind...

Azriel trails off, gesticulating at the scene before him.

... this ... all of this, there is something unseen, unknown behind it.

Loot from Spikey McGlaive
potion of cure light wounds, potion of expeditious retreat, +1 full plate with cold iron armor spikes, +1 glaive, composite longbow (+4 Str) with 20 arrows, belt of giant strength +2, cloak of resistance +2, ring of protection +1

Azriel finishes his spell and the world around dissolves, quickly reassembling into a sandy landscape. You stand on a sand road, reddish sand expands in all directions. Before you stand the great gates of Rajashi, a passing merchant and his mule look at you in shock but other than that your appearance goes greatly unnoticed.

The gates of Rajashi are much less inviting than Lionguard's. Two massive iron doors set in an immense wall or red sandstone. The top of the wall is adorned with various exotic trophies from mammoth tusks to dragon skulls. Huge orange banners emblazoned with The Emperor's scarab sigil flank the gate. Six guards stand in front garbed in traditional Rajashin style, half-plate covered with light sand-silks, and armed with round shields and scimitars.

Let us find a quite room to plan, I have magics to work. We should try to not to draw attention to our selves.

Azriel glances nervously at the towering elf that is his brother.

"Brother perhaps you should cast a glamor, blind others to me."

Eloron fiddles with the dragon scale still in his hand..

"...and the prisoners brother, what of them surely the must be glamoured too, or men will look."

Eloron speaks wisely, we would do well learn what we may from our surplus compatriots quickly, and set them on a path seperate from our own

What time zone is this thread in?

If you would allow me but a moment I have a solution.

Instantly a long slender wand of near transparent glass appears in Azriel's hand, he points it at him self and in a blink he appears to be nothing but a slightly dirty merchant.

Who is next? It is temporary, a mere hour and some, but enough for us to get a room in an inn where we won't be disturbed, when we are done I can teleport them far away or we could deal with them how ever you see fit.

Azriel shrugs and gestures to the group with his last comment.

One by one I use the wand to glamour each of us, touching each person as he does so lightly on the shoulder.

Grinning he turns the wand to the two unconscious bandits, and in a blink they appear to be two traveler bags with stout handles, again Azriel reaches down and taps the bags.

Brother would you mind handling the luggage ... don't be too rough.

Posted at 11:28pm EST

"I will take the bags happily fetch the bags brother"

Eloron lifts both bags up onto his broad shoulders.
"Brother, lead the way let us find a quiet room and make further plans"
Eloron nudges the bags into position, come, fellows, we have a trade caravan to run"[/b] He smiles broadly, with the other hand he picks up the gear from the one foe who fell to Hunger. He begins to move towards the gates....
Eloron sniffs the air as he walks towards the gates of this new city, Letting his nose guide him as he heads straight for the gates.

Before Azriel reaches The Steel Falcon with the wand, The Steel Falcon disappears. Less than ten seconds later a weathered looking peasant woman appears where he had been, grinning broadly through crooked teeth.

Lead on, m'lords! Ah've always wanted to see the exotic city!

The guards stop your party at the gate briefly, one of them speaks a few words and presents his palm forward.

You are waved through into the city. The outer district of Rajashi is foul, the streets are old cobble stone, but stained with dirt, shit, and piss. homeless bums and sick folk lie around in abundance. Ratty carts line the streets, the merchants pedaling their wares don't look any prettier. You get a few glances here and there but are otherwise ignored. You make it to the gate into the central district in good time. this district is much prettier. The buildings are quarried stone and brick instead of sandstone and wooden hovels. The streets are clear of carts and homeless. A way to the south west you see the walls of massive coliseum, the roar of a crowd drifts softly towards you. You find a quaint little inn & tavern called The Many Corners Inn. As you enter, you re greeted my the warm scent of roasting pork and ale. It is reaching sunset by this point and people are just starting to filter into the tavern. A portly half-orc leans against the bar at the end of the room. She raises her head as you enter and shouts from across the room.

"WELCOME TO THE MANY CORNERS INN, WHAT CAN I DO YA FOR?"

As you look around the room you can see how the inn got its name. Some architect shaped this building such that the main room has far more corners than necessary. In the farthest corner sits a dark figure, draped in a heavy cloak.

A private room for my fellow travelers and I

Azriel Pulls out the needed coin and slides it to the half-orc, coughing.

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"I am so happy you asked, a roasted pork! and three mugs of ale for me, the road is long and dusty and travel always makes me thirsty"

Eloron grins in his new face.
"bring it to our room if you will, I am also tired of hauling so much"
He nods his head towards his shoulder where a large travel bag is still balanced.

The Innkeeper leads you upstairs and lets you into a large room with four beds. The room is nice enough, two windows, a desk, a chest by each bed, and a door to a separate latrine.

"I'll send a boy up with your food in just a minute."

Lets wait for the food before unpacking brother.

Azriel flops sits on a bed and starts eating a sweet cake, the crumbs catching fire and burning to nothing before touching his beard.

Eloron places the two traveling cases near the base of one of the beds.
"Brother do you think they have roasted chickens?"
Eloron looks out the window observing the city, then walks into the latrine and peers about.

The latrine is a long shaft down to some sort of sewer system, a small stream of water run at the bottom to flush away waste. The door to the hallway is a simple sturdy door, made out of oak or some other hardwood. Strong enough to turn away your brute, certainly not someone of Eloron's caliber though.

The peasant woman follows the other travelers, generally remaining cloaked and silent. "She" takes a seat on a bed in the room and meditates briefly while the others eat and poke around.

Little enough sense putting off what needs to be done. Today's task not done will be tomorrow's task, for those of us who wake from our sleep. Shall we have a look whats hiding in Eloron's luggage?

At Zystra's words, one of the peasant woman's eyes cracks open.

"Yes." she says in The Steel Falcon's deep voice. "I imagine we should wait until the food boy is come and gone, however."

Presuming Eloron's pork and ale has arrived.

Agreed, dispelling the magic, the two prisoners are revealed. I would hope one of you is more skilled than I in the art of persuasion. How ever I can aid with some magic.

Azriel mutters something and gesticulates concentrating on the two.

Eloron looks around the room, grimaces then looks at the men tied up on the floor.
"well then, let's do this right and quick, best make sure no one can hear us."
Eloron kneels in front of the nearest man, prodding him forcefully...
"... someone give me a knife..."

A young boy, about twelve or so knocks on the door and leaves a tray of chicken and ale for Eloron. He hastily turns and leaves leaving you to your business.

The two prisoners, slump to the floor, still unconscious.
I will assume a short wait until the prisoner wake up, about an hour.

The woman in chain wakes first, shaking her head groggily before attempting to brush her hair out of her face, it is at this moment she realizes she is bound. She looks around at the four of you in horror. Your glamour has faded by now.

The other awakes shortly after, upon removing his face mask you have discovered he is a middle aged elven man, shoulder length grey hair and a salt and pepper goatee. He takes a bit longer to come to his senses than his companion. When he does he closes his eyes in defeat and slowly lies back onto the floor.

Sorry I edited a short time skip into this to keep things moving.

Maybe ask a question or two first brother. Like who are they working for, why were they there?

"Who was the man I killed? What was his name, was he your friend? your leader? Boss? Do you eat meat? Drink ale?"

has anyone given me a knife

"Answer my question, tell me true and that will be the end of this"

Eloron looks at the woman, then the man on the floor then lifts them both up one in each arm and dumps them on the bed

There is a knife with the chicken, not suitable for a weapon but sharp enough to be intimidating, and cut flesh.

The woman glances nervously at the knife, then up at Eloron, and then turns and looks nervously out the window. She turns back to her companion and shakes her head at him.

The elven man watch the woman carefully, before turning to Eloron. "If I talk, you'll let me live?"

"Let's start small, who was the man I killed?"

"His name was Crosby, he was our boss..." He pauses for a moment. "And her father."

"I see, your leader? who were the three of you? mercenaries assassins?"

Eloron looks at the woman head to toe a frown on his face. Then he offers the elf some ale.
"Tell me what you know, tell me everything, and I will not kill you"

"We were simply hired to take out the adventurers investigating the site of the dragon attack. The woman who hired us said it would be an easy job."

The elf greedily downs the ale. The woman looks between Eloron and her companion one more time, then speaks quietly.

"I can't tell you anything, they'll kill me."

Do you think Jezzara would pose any threat to us? The choice you see is not tell us anything and die, tell us everything and be killed by Jezzara. I am not a cruel person, honestly you are but motes of dust upon an astral wind to me, and thus I will show you the ignorance of your thoughts.

Azriel doubles over coughing, and grasping for his tea, taking a drink only when the fit subsides.

Jezzara is nothing to us, tell us everything you know, I mean everything, and I promise not only will my brother

I gesticulate broadly at Eloron.

Won't kill you, skin you or wear you like a scarf... he is more a cape kinda guy anything. Regardless, not only that but I will teleport you far from here, to safety, and while you wait for our return it may be imprisonment, upon our return it will be your life and your freedom. Or we could see how well my brother looks in a scarf, either way doesn't bother me.

"borther, I would never skin them and wear them as a coat..."
Turning to the two still a bit surprised at the turn of conversation..
"Who is this Jezzara? and surely if she is so dangerous we will deal with her ourselves. Perhaps you could even take us to her?"

Elia glances out the window again, as if trying to find something.
"Okay. But you have to get us somewhere safe."
She turns guiltily to the elf. "There was more to this job than my father and I were letting on. We weren't just hired by some random woman to take you out. We were-"

The window to your room shatters inwards. I thin black shaft pierces each prisoner, directly through the left eye. The elf simply falls back onto the bed. Elia's words are cut short and she slumps forward onto Eloron.

Before the prisoners have finished falling over, the peasant woman disappears. A moment later the remaining glass in the window shatters outwards.