Allence's Last Hope

Game Master sarpadian

The five of you have been summoned to the Overlord's Palace for an audience. A majordomo meets each of you at the door and leads you to an antechamber just off the throne room where a circular table with five chairs--each with a place setting in front of it--occupies the middle portion of the chamber. Carafes with different drinks sit in the middle of the table. The majordomo seats each of you as you arrive and then returns to the front door to await the next guest. When you have all arrived, the majordomo says: "Please help yourselves; I will return for you when the Overlord is ready to meet with you."

Having sat down Det grabs the nearest carafe, takes a whiff, and sets it back down. He then looks around at the four others sitting down and says, a little sheepishly, "Uh...hi."

Umash was at first hesitant to sit down. When the majordomo offered them to help themselves, her hand immediately went into a pouch producing three empty vials. As she makes herself comfortable she arranges the three vials on the table in front of her and reaches across for the carafes. Sniffing each one briefly, before she decides on one and starts pouring some of its content into each vial, then into her cup.

At the "introduction" of her half-orc companion in misfortune, she pauses. "Hello.", with a satisfied smile she pours some more into her cup then sets the carafe back while corking the vials with the other hand and then sweeping them off the table back into her pouch. She looks around at the gathered people, she ventures to start speaking again, but then stops herself and instead leans back taking a large sip of her drink.

Thankful that his attempt at making conversation wasn't met with complete silence he responds "Well I guess I should start with a name, Detskiye Kotenok is the name my parents gave me. Though you can just call me Det, that's what my friends called me." Then, nodding his head to the half-orc's pouch, he said with a laugh "Keeping some for the road are we?"

As I am led in and seated I glance at the half-orcs, being well adjusted to seeing other races from my time in the Arcane Tower I incline my head slightly to each and then sit glancing over the drinks I make myself comfortable in my chair before chanting a few Draconic words in a deep voice and making a quick movement with my hands. Casting Mage Hand

I point my finger at one of the Carafes and it lifts and moves over to me, pouring itself into my glass before moving back to its original resting place.

With another Short phrase and movement my drink begins slowly cycling through colors and gently fizzing. Prestidigitation

A short, albeit large man enters. He moves easily; more gracefully than most men his size. His skin is tanned and he wears woodsman's clothes. His long black hair is mostly tied back, though some strands escape, and his chin bears a short beard. His dark eyes take in the room as he approaches. When he sits down his girth overflows the chair, although he doesn't seem to mind or even notice. His expression is impassive, if a little dour. He looks at his companions, each in turn before announcing loudly to the table, How'de'doo. Name's Chantif. Although his words are friendly, their tone is neutral, and his expression remains the same.

--

He narrows his eyes at Umash's pocketing, assessing her and her action, but says nothing.

--

At Det's introduction he nods and says, Honored, I'm sure.

--

Drexel's showiness draws no more than a disinterested glance.

Visible EQ below, assuming we have it all and didn't have to leave anything at the door

Umash sees Chantif's look, but ignores it, too many a time has she seen people look at her like that, for it to be noteworthy: "I'm offered alcohol, I take it." she looks into her cup "Even if I have to purify it later... They call me Umash.", she finally comes forth with her name after others offered theirs.

Chantif nods at Umash, Honor.

The little magic show with the drink actually manages to get a chuckle out of Det, "Do you always make an entrance like this?" Then he said to Umash, "That sounds like a pretty good philosophy Umash, by the way, do you happen to know which one is actually water?"

Hey these weren't purple when I bought 'em! Det was now looking down at his clothes which had turned a light purple. Still, Det cracks a smile "What do you think? Do I look like force to be reckoned with now?"

Hey these weren't purple when I bought 'em! Det was now looking down at his clothes which had turned a light purple. Still, Det cracks a smile "What do you think? Do I look like force to be reckoned with now?"

I start laughing and rock back in my chair seeing Det's reaction to my little prank.

@Det "Truly, anyone that can take a joke played on them with a smile I would call friend." I stand and approach him, putting my hand out to shake his. "I am called Drexel, it is a pleasure to meet you Det."

As I am talking to Det small, florescent, see-through, animals start gallivanting around the table between the carafes and his clothing returns to a normal shade.

Det hardily shakes Drexel's hand, he then notices the animals moving around, "You seem like a man with a lot of tricks up his sleeve, I'd be happy to call you a friend."

As the others talk amongst themselves and made merry, the proverbial elephant in the room glowers quietly in the seat next to Chantif. A tall, powerful-looking woman, Rhona sits clad in dark scalemail, idly twiddling her thumbs, having not yet touched her drink.

When Drexel's little prank goes off, however, the tiniest of smirks tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Heh. Cute trick," she mutters under her breath. With some of the ever-thick tension broken, she visibly relaxes a bit, running a gauntleted hand through her messy crop of hair. "That's a good color for you, uh... Det, was it?" She doesn't get up or offer a hand (though doing so across Chantif might have been a shade difficult), but sort of nods in greeting, briefly making eye contact with the others.

Was this the team she'd be working with? Two half-orcs, a prankster wizard, and this large fellow who used the phrase "How'de'doo?"

Eh. Better than some of the other stiffs she'd worked with. Rhona raises a hand in greeting. "So, it's... Det, Umash, Chantif- sounds like a drink, if y'ask me- and Drexel, huh?" She finally grabs a drink and leans back in her seat, then props her feet up on the table before her. "Rhona. Pleasure's all mine." She downs her glass in a single gulp.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21 to identify the spell that changed the color of my clothes

Umash can't suppress a hint of a smile: "So you're an entertainer, Drexel? Or do your magic tricks have practical applications too?", her smile widens as she looks at the wizard with a hint of mockery in her tone and expression.

"And while we're at it, Drexel, let me just give you a head's up- you turn anything of mine pink, and we're gonna have issues."

She smirks at Umash and goes for another drink.

"I don't don't know Rhona, I think pink is one of the fiercest colors there is!" Det laughs and finally pours himself a glass of water.

[dice=Spellcraft]1d20 + 8 to identify the spell that changed the color of my clothes

Umash can't suppress a hint of a smile: "So you're an entertainer, Drexel? Or do your magic tricks have practical applications too?", her smile widens as she looks at the wizard with a hint of mockery in her tone and expression.

"I'm hurt, I studied in the Arcane Tower you know, everything I do has practical applications. Just because one practices his art with trickery and fun does not mean that it cannot be turned into enemy confusion and terror, not to mention destruction, when necessary." I go from having a very cheery smile at the start of my statement to to being deathly serious by the end of it.

"Anyway enough seriousness for now, we are not on the field yet." I say smiling again.

"And while we're at it, Drexel, let me just give you a head's up- you turn anything of mine pink, and we're gonna have issues."

She smirks at Umash and goes for another drink.

I bow toward Rhona and with a wave of my hand Umash's outfit returns to normal color and the creatures disappear. "I wouldn't dream of pranking someone so fierce as you."

it is just "how do you do" slurred together. Much like "how'd'ye'do" but slurred even more together. I put too many "o"s on the end.

Another nod. Honored, Rhona. he barks. He finally pours himself a drink.

Rhona raises her glass in a cursory salute to the others before downing it, too, in a single gulp. She starts to lean forward to get another, but realizing she'd have to put her feet down, decides it's not worth the effort and sets the glass on the floor next to her seat.

Watching Rhona's attempt at refilling her glass, I recast Mage Hand and
fill her glass with the drink she had filled it with previously as I move back to my seat giving her a smile as I do so.

"So, is there anyone else that we are waiting for? What do you all suppose the Overlord wishes to speak to us about? I have been a mercenary for a few years but I have never worked for someone so... important."

After a few more minutes, the majordomo returns with a couple of half-orcs clothed in scale mail and wielding halberds. The scale mail has a red horse hoof emblazoned on the chest, which all of you know to be the insignia of Dakok's Bloody Hooves, the elite unit of the New Allence Guard. Additionally, above the hoof is a gold-colored crown, designating the Bloody Hooves assigned to Overlord Shem's personal security detail. After entering, the half-orcs beat the butts of their weapons against the floor to get your attention. Then the majordomo says, "The Overlord will see you now. Please leave your gear here; these men," he motions towards the half-orcs, "will guard it until you return."

Reckon we're about to find out. Chantif stands up, setting his weapons in his chair, along with his backpack, before striding to the majordomo.

I set my crossbow down on the seat I used with its ammo then I pull my dagger from it's hidden sheath setting it next to the crossbow. Then I stand "Off we go then."

Watching Rhona's attempt at refilling her glass, I recast Mage Hand and

fill her glass with the drink she had filled it with previously as I move back to my seat giving her a smile as I do so.

Rhona takes the magically-lifted glass in hand and nods toward Drexel. "Well then," she says, "keep that sort of thing going and we might just end up friends, wizard."

When the majordomo and his men enter, Rhona lifts an eyebrow. After being told to leave their gear behind, Rhona groans, finishes her drink, and gets up from her seat. Begrudgingly, she begins unhooking her various weapons and shield and piling them up neatly on her seat: a longsword, warhammer, two throwing axes, a shortbow, a quiver, and her heavy shield. "This better all be here when we come back," Rhona mutters under her breath. As she passes the half-orcs, she gives one of them a nod and says, "Nice armor, pal."

Umash, equally displeased with havin to leave her weapons behind, pulls off the cluttered backback and drops it on the table with a lot of noise. "Fine then."
She follows the others with a few steps between them keeping a keen eye on them.

Detskiye reluctantly leaves his hammer and javelin resting on the table and his pack lying on his chair. He looks nervously at his hammer for a minute and then walks through the door.

As she passes the half-orcs, she gives one of them a nod and says, "Nice armor, pal."

The half-orc replies, "Thanks. You best be getting in there to see the boss. We'll take good care of your stuff."

The door through which the majordomo leads you is not the one through which you entered; it leads directly into the throne room. The room has majestic, vaulted ceilings with frescoes depicting the founding of New Allence painted on it. The stone walls are decorated with a variety of animal heads and sculptures. On the other side of the room, there is a raised dais. On each side of the dais are two guards equipped like the ones with whom you left your equipment. In the center of the dais is a grandiose throne on which the Overlord is sitting, flanked by a human male and an elven woman. Sitting in the elven woman's lap is a black and white cat with a monocle. Above its head is a rope--seemingly suspended from nothing--that the cat is mindlessly batting back and forth. When you enter the room the elven woman fixes her gaze towards the party and begins chanting arcane words.

Please describe what your character is thinking about as you enter the room.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21 to identify her spell. (although I have a suspicion already)

Spellcraft 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

Technically, all of you are entitled to a Will save, but since none of you are thinking anything untoward, and any of you would need a natural 20 to pass, I'm going to forego the save in the interest of moving along.

The elf continues looking at the party for a long moment. Then she addresses Umash: "Madam, I agree that I am not being polite; however, I find that in these dark times security is more important than good manners. If poking around in your idle thoughts is the most impolite thing I have to do to protect myself and the Overlord, then I shall consider myself lucky." She turns to Drexel and says, "Drexel, how nice to see you again...and this time not in my office for disciplinary action. I see that I failed in convincing you to abandon your frivolous waste of your talents. Alas, I fear we must find something more strenuous than duty in the kitchens to get the point across." She smiles and adds, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, I fear there is one more 'impolite' thing I must do," and she begins chanting another spell. Once it is completed, she turns to the Overlord and says, "They are clean, milord. Shall we begin?"

The Overlord turns to the human seated on the other side of him and says: "Father Arl, would you please invoke the blessings of the Judge on our meeting?"

Father Arl stands, and begins intoning a prayer. "O Master of the First Vault, who judgest e'en the other gods, we beseech thee that thou wouldst grant unto us, thy servants, a measure of thy wisdom that we may guide and protect those whom thou hast vouchsafed unto us for protection. Amen." Having concluded the invocation, Father Arl presents his holy symbol and says, "By the Judge's authority, I adjure all to speak the truth."

Will saves, please.

Will Save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11

Rhona grunts. "Wow. Walk into a room and immediately get bombarded with magic. Fun day."

Will: 1d20 ⇒ 17

Will 1d20+3

I am fine with DM save rolls as well to speed things along

Will: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

You rolling saves would speed it up a bit, so I would be fine with it

Will 1d20+3

I am fine with DM save rolls as well to speed things along

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16 oops

All of you feel a compulsion to tell the truth. That's three votes for me to roll saves, so I will start doing that. Also, there's a detail related to the spell just cast that may come into play later in the campaign. I'm mentioning its existence here so that (if it comes up later) you guys will know I'm not cheating :). Those who are trained in Spellcraft, if you think your character would have been paying attention to the spell being cast, please roll a Spellcraft check. Also, if you want to set up a standard operating procedure to attempt an identification of any spell that's cast, I'm OK with that.

The Overlord smiles. "Thank you for responding so quickly to my summons. I hope you will forgive the...precautions...I've had to take, and please do not feel that they reflect in any way on my opinion of your trustworthiness. A man in my position cannot be too careful, however. The matter concerning which I have summoned you here is of the utmost importance and secrecy. Most of you come highly recommended. Rhona, my brother tells me that you are a skilled warrior and that the...tendencies...which made you unsuited to the Dawnflower's service may make you uniquely suited for ours. Drexel, Yalandara and Mau here," he nods towards the elf and cat, "speak of you as one of their more talented students...if one who is perhaps guilty of not taking things seriously enough. I hope you will not succumb to that weakness in this particular endavor. They think you will do well, and I have learned to trust their judgment. Det--I may call you Det, may I not?--my sources among the Iron Mountain dwarves indicate that you trained under the illustrious Duller. Is that correct?" Then he turns to look at Chantif and Umash. "About the two of you, I know little, only what the scryers have picked up since your arrival here. However, Father Arl and Dean Yalandara have consulted beings of the Upper Planes regarding this mission, and their research indicates that both of you will be integral to the mission's success." He pauses, allowing the party to respond.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

I would pretty much always be trying to figure out what magic is going on around me, and one of my main goals is accumulating more magical knowledge and power.

I bow toward the Overlord "I am honored that my instructors have such a high opinion of me, I will refrain from pranking on this mission."

When Chantif was brought before the overlord he inclined his head and put a knuckle to his forehead in an attempt at showing respect. Then as the moments since entering the hall passed by, he became more and more aware of the import of the occasion. He became increasingly nervous and broke out into a sweat. He straightened his back and neck, so that an observer would not detect his nervousness.

As the overlord began to speak, Chantif's ears began to roar, so that he stopped hearing anything after "Most of you come highly recommended" until the overlord turned to address him, at which point his hearing suddenly cleared.

His eyes widened. He startled to mumble something, coughed, shook his head, and then bellowed "A right honor, your overlordship, a right honor indeed." Then he blushed discernably, in spite of his tanned sin. He thought better of forcing a smile.

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Startlingly, Rhona blushes a bit. "Oh, uh... your brother told you that, huh?" She shifts uncomfortably in her armor, smirking a bit. After a moment, she throws in: "Jaffa really recommended me for the job? Well... if that's the case, then I suppose I had better do my best..." She trails off, still a bit red in the face.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

I would also default to identifying all spells.

"I wouldn't expect anyone to know me, I have made a habit of it staying that way in the past for good reason.", Umash says somewhat under her breath, then speaks up "I shall not disappoint you mylord."

A brief, pained, look shot across Det`s face at the mention of Duller`s name. Then he straightened up and said "Raised by the illustrious Duller is a better way to put it. And you can call me Det, 'Detskiye Kotenok' is a bit of a mouthful. It's an honor to be here." He then bows and goes silent.

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After the party as replied to his prefatory remarks, the Overlord begins again: "If I thought you would not do your utmost to accomplish the task, I wouldn't have summoned you, but I appreciate your reassurances. Now that I've suitably impressed you with the gravity of the mission, let's describe what the mission is. When we were forced to flee Old Allence, my father's extremely talented weaponsmith didn't make it out. He came out when the evacuation was called, but he was later spotted attempting to reenter the mansion. The sentries yelled at him to return to his place in the evacuation caravan, but he refused, saying that he had to rescue it...it was going to turn the tide of the war. We haven't been able to go investigate because the Taloths always keep a sizable garrison there, but now Yalandara's scryers have noted that the garrision has all decamped to the east. We must take advantage of this opportunity. Your job is to find out what it is, and bring it back here for Yalandara's people to investigate it. It's possible Ducalek was crazy, but he was an artificer of great power, so we can't afford to overlook the possibility that he was right. If you will bring the item of power back to me, you can have salvage rights on whatever else you find. I would ask that you give me the right of first refusal, since there may be family heirlooms involved, but I will pay you fair market price. Will you take the job?"

Lifting his chin and puffing out his chest Det said "The Taloth orcs took everything from me my lord. It would be my pleasure to strike back at them in any way possible."

Chantif knuckles his forehead again, Aye.