Corsario's Kingmakers: Agents of the Kingdom (Inactive)

Game Master Corsario

PROCLAMATION
Be it so known that the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, have granted his majesty Rupert Surtova the first the crown of the lands south of Brevoy, the wilderness region currently known as "The Stolen Lands". Now they are looking for a body of good standing explorers and adventurers so they can be granted the honor of becoming his Vassals in his new kingdom. They will be required to strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered, clear the land of perils and monsters, develop their assigned fiefdoms and protect their new kingdom subjects.
If you are part of a company of venturers, with widely known fame and references, interested in settling a new land and bring order and progress to the wilderness, please present yourselves, and your credentials, before His Majesty Rupert Surtova the first and His Eminence Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius at the City Hall, before the Starday 4th day of Calistril, 4710 AR.
So witnessed on this Toilday 2th day of Abadius, 4710 AR, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne.

.

"There is a place. Like no place on Earth. A land full of wonder, mystery, and danger! Some say to survive it, you need to be as mad as a hatter."

The news spread all over Restov, Rostland, Brevoy and even farther than anyone would dare to imagine. The groups chosen to lead the new attempt to tame the Stolen Lands are:

- Sir Rupert Surtova, cousin of his majesty Regent Noleski Surtova. Together with a elegant and powerful group of knights, have been chosen by the Dragonscale Throne as the king of the new lands. That caused the mood in Restov to be gloom, as the plan to colonize the area as a allied to Rostland has been subverted, by the astute Surtovas, to their own benefit. Now Rostland will be surrounded by enemies, instead to having an ally watching their backs. A group of porters, lead by a half orc name Coalhouse, and a beautiful red haired half elf named Alysandra Janus handle his baggage train. A group of women, escorting a young woman, also arrives with the group.

The Blessed Hospitallers - This group of powerful and piteous heroes are known in all of Brevoy as defenders of the weak and protectors of the just. Their actions even provided them with a charter from the Dragonscale Throne, ratified by the free city of Restov, granting them the right to "dispense justice and protect the weak". Lead by the mysterious Lady Amavin Zephyra, the Callistrian "Lady of the Thunder", Sir Ignatius Digenes Akritas, the Iomedian Crusader, Sir Titian Stagson, "Cor Leonis" Knight of Erastil and Sir Elliomander Ostarian, the powerful Theurge chosen by Nethys. They have been tasked to go into their most ambitious task yet. But in dark corners there is talk of a veiled disguised banishment by powerful figures envious, or perhaps afraid, of their incorruptible power.

The Righteous Wanderers - Unknown to many, it is a mystery for many the reason this group was included in the push to colonize the Stolen Lands. But to those in the known the reason is clear. Their actions around Varisia, Cheliax and beyond have grant them fame. And besides two of their members have ties with families loyal to the Dragonscale throne, as Dagit Downhill is a survivor of the Garess' Golka Dwarves, and people says only by his sheer power and faith in the dwarven race kept him alive, and Aolis Greenborn is an adopted ward of House Medvyed, a mysterious wizard of which is said have travelled to the other side of the world and back. Their leader, the small in size but fearsome paladin and hellknight Axhammer Rocknose has a reputation of being one of the more just persons in the known world. Last but not least Trawets Aarock arcane might and mysterious aura as made more than one enemy flee before facing them. And people says it has him, by his secret knowledge, that they appeared in Brevoy in the right moment to join this expedition.

The Restov Coursers - Known to every lass and child in Restov, the Coursers are the heroes of all of Rostland, being the reason banditry and crime has all but disappeared in those lands, and being the main reason a push into the lands south of Brevoy can take place. Led by Azrael, "the Avenger", paladin whose wrath any criminal one thousand leagues from Restov fears, together with Lord Christian D'Elagante unit of powerful and coordinated warriors, unbeatable by any criminal group, Aramil Wellys magical knowledge and raw power, as well as dashing duelling sword, and Alexander Dumonte's abilities as hunter of beast and men have proven too much for any creature preying on the weak and poor. All of Rostland loves them, and have spent years without paying for a meal or a bed. Seen as "representatives" of the Free City of Restov in this quest, they are expected to defend the just and simple ideals of its people. And in the alleyways and business of ill-repute it is says there is a reward for each of their heads, to be paid for the criminal lords of the Greenbelt.

- Rudolf Ferdinand Aldori III: The most famous descendant of Sirian Aldori was selected to relocate, together with his state and Aldori Swordlords school to the Stolen Lands. "The Four Swords", his most gifted students, all members of the Khavortorov family, had a big reputation as charismatic troublemakers, accompany him.

- The Cenobitic Order: Unknown by many this big group of Irori Monks, almost always silent, was a surprise for everyone. Rumors told they had lived in a secluded part of Iobaria wilderness, and were displaced and were looking for a new place to live. Never alone, they seem like a very introspect and isolated party.

A big dinner is planned for tonight, were the Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius is going to address the selected groups. Lord Sellemius it is said to be ill by the news of the Surtova's ruse, and planning a way to reverse the setback in Rostland's plans for the future. Maybe the new King will fall under the blade of a Greenbelt bandit or be killed by one of the many monsters or dangers on those lands?

So your teams have been selected by the Brevoy government to colonize the Stolen Lands. Your characters (both main and cohort, including Coalhouse and Alysandra, surprisingly) are getting ready for a fancy state dinner to make the charter official. Your teams are camped just outside the free city of Restov. You all know about the others, as your adventures are known to those in "the trade".
So your cohorts and followers:
- Can investigate the other teams (Rupert Surtova's, The Cenobitic Order, Rudolf Ferdinand's group)
- Check for street rumors
- Contact the other of your groups (you will be allies after all)
- Can go shopping
- Other things I didn't think about
Your main character is busy organizing things to do any other stuff.

While Azrael readies himself for the state dinner, and assures himself via messengers that the others of the Coursers (Lord D'Elagante, Aramil, and Alexander) will be there and at their best. Azrael dresses in his finest courtier's outfit with matching jewelry, then uses his sleeves of many garments to spiff it up even more... experimenting with colors until he finally settles on a combination that appeals to him.

Azrael's followers take to the streets to learn what they can, especially about the reward offered for Azrael's head - out of sheer curiosity, how much, and more importantly by whom and who might be trying to fulfill the contract. They will frequent various bars and dives, and talk to folks on the streets in less savory neighborhoods as well..

diplo: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (11) + 16 = 27

When you "investigate" other camps, tell me the way, and do the appropriate rolls.

Hareth, for example, can try a Diplomacy check to approach the Cenobitic Order. He will have a bonus with his monk training.

His followers can try a Diplomacy (Gather Info) or Knowledge (Local) check (with Azrael bonus) to find about the bounty.

Meanwhile, Hareth takes some time to look into the other groups, find out a bit about Rupert Surtova and his aims, as well as the mysterious Cenobitic Order, quite interesting especially to Hareth with his own monkish training. He will also take time to learn what he can of Rudolf Aldori and his students and what their plans in the Stolen Lands might be.

As a fellow monk though, he ends up spending most of his time trying to learn what he can about the Cenobitic Order.

diplo: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19 plus whatever bonus he might have for sharing monk traditions with them

Having camped in a decent inn with all his followers Titian, Ezekiel and Ninefinger Flynn discuss how to handle the next days.
Provisions have to be secured, the equipment overhauled and thousand other miniscule details.
Ezekiel and Titans Squire will go to the team of Sir Rupert Surtova, checking on the other Knights and deliver notes to old friends and jousting-mates, listen to the other teams barter and trying to find out more. Gather information: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 10 + 2 = 21 Aid from the Squire
Ninefinger Flynn will take care that the carts are brought to a cartwright and checked, that enough provisions are bought, that steel ingots and all the other materials needed that his little decury can function are bought and that no one misbehaves in the city.

Amavin likewise prepares as best as she can for the dinner, spending large amounts of time deciding what she might wear and how precisely she might steer the dinner to her advantage. With so much on her mind, she elects to leave the running of her followers to Ishana, fully aware that her ally was far more experienced and manipulating a favourable outcome than she was, with her longer experience.

After providing Amavin with some fashion observations, Ishana leaves to set events in motion. She has little interest in a group of Irorian, putting them in the box of "strong and silent". She feels the group might struggle to have its voice heard, but might be valuable allies in the long term. Sir Rupert Surtova and Rudolf Ferdinand Aldori III are far more interesting, and Ishana weighs up both options before deciding on investigating Rudolf. With a reputation for charming troublemakers, Ishana decided it certainly wouldn't be a waste of time to check them out. Unwilling to entrust the matter to anyone else, Ishana decides to judge their character and motivations for herself, and after determining the most likely bar or tavern where she might find The Four Swords, heads over there to observe. Once there, Ishana doesn't really intend to hide her presence, she's not intending to spy, but wants to be in proximity to see how they conduct themselves.

Hmm not sure what roll for this tactic as described above but I guess Perception?

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

The followers, on the other hand, Ishana sends to hunt out street rumors, primarily to learn anything that might be useful to Amavin at the party, or alternatively anything particularly interesting about Sir Rupert or Rudolf. Ishana is aware that rumors might not always be true, but the truth usually lies somewhere within one and besides, she feels that a network thrives on being at home on the streets anyway.

Unknown what type of modifiers followers have on Gather Information checks so I'll roll a d20 and feel free to add any modifiers as appropriate.

Street Rumors Gather Information? (Followers): 1d20 ⇒ 15

Among the many camps and tent's their is expected differences. Yet some less then others as was the case of Aolis Greenborn's camp. Somehow he had chosen the most lushes local, plant life vibrant with thick grass underfoot. His great pavilion tent was of a pale forest green hue and clearly of elvish make with the careful designs about it. Yet it did not end their, instead of torches or lanterns their were floating magical lights to fight the coming night, odd colored with a eerie cast about them. A grand yet slightly alien sight to be sure, perhaps the rumors of his connections to the fey of his adopted families lands was not completely unfounded. If this did not seal his oddity then the company he kept may well have. A massive yet majestic elk with a equally huge rack of horns sits beside the tent, it's primal eyes studying all that come near. Even unsupported by his legs, the normally large horses tied near the beast are dwarfed by it. Sitting easy on a stump with mushrooms at it's base was a clearly feline woman making arrows in a little pile next to her. While off to the side were a pair setting at a small table with a number of tomes, quills, and scrolls discussing something. Were it not for the fact that one was an attractive pale skinned woman with dark hair and mismatched eyes and the other a equally pale skinned, tall, and bright red headed man with bits of apparent fire among his locks. It may have almost passed as a simple after thought not worth noticing to a visitor passing by. Finally the last of the apparent group outside the tent were a pair of humans, brother and sister clear enough by the resemblance. They seemed a bit on the thin if not lean side and tended to the horses. While nothing was overly odd about their appearance they seemed strangely alert or nervous, they constantly scanned their surroundings as if uncomfortable out in the open. Taking to rubbing or holding some bauble upon their person now and again.

Inside the tent Aolis was preparing letters. Sacha behind him with her arms laying behind her upon the small of her back.

"I really wish you would relax. Must we return to that charming little spring run by that colony of sprites."

He said without looking over his shoulder at her as he continued to write. Without a word she brought her arms down to her sides.

"I suppose that's some improvement."

Having finished one of the letters he seals it with his personal mark and adds it to the pile.

"Have Arden or Karlene send their little helpers to our associates with their letters. Sadly you will have to deliver the rest in person. I do not think the others will be as understanding. That would be a shameful start."

"Yes, Master Aolis."

"Honestly Sacha, one of these days I'm going to get you to call me simply by my first name. If memory serves you showed much less respect the first time we met those years ago. Their seems to be no middle ground with you, does their."

Aolis could not see the slight tinge of embarrassment at recalling that memory for Sacha, then again he did not need to in order to know.

Any rolls and the second part will be up shortly.

Trawets spends his time preparing by visiting the sights in the city. He enjoys the monuments and plazas and it gives him time to focus on the needs of Soralyon and any last minute messages from him. As Bachu leaves him at on of the fountains he says, "Don't forget the party tonight. You need to prepare!" Trawets waves him off and goes back to watching the water. What's he think? I'm some woman that's going to take forever picking out my clothes. A quick change and a prestidigitation and I'm all set.

After spending some time meditating he heads back to the camp to prepare. A quick change of cloths and the addition of some jewelry and the change is done. "What do you think Newton? I always feel like a Callistrian whore with all this flashy stuff on." The fairy dragon appears and just laughs at him. "There's not enough jewelry in the world to make you look good enough to be one of those."

Bachu shakes his head as he leaves Trawets. He never is interested in making nice with others. He'll lose track of time here and run back to change quickly and somehow manage to look good anyway. I think Rudolf Ferdinand Aldori's group may be worth checking out. So I'll head that way. Make sure there is no trouble brewing there."

Bachu then heads out to see what he can find out about them.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

"Blinkerin' boxin' bangin' ... Aly!!"

Clad in an elegant gown showing off the grace of her neck and wearing expensive jewelry (at ears, throat, wrists and fingers) that let the viewer know she wasn't just some tart dressed up on a lark, the redheaded half-elf swept from her room to her half-brother's, pausing in the doorway to regard him with some amusement. "Well. I can see why you called. Can't get it to tie?"

Though touched with some amount of rough attractiveness and force of personality, Coalhouse didn't have the same exceeding grace as his sibling - or rather, her elegance. When it came to movement, he could beat her hands down, but his was the grace of efficiency; hers, the grace of elegance. Perhaps that was the reason he was having such troubles. "Stupid things won't ... tie it," he grumbled, fiddling with the cuffs of the subdued suit of clothes that murmured 'power' quietly into the ears of those who were able to hear the message. It wasn't the flamboyant attire of the peacock courtier; it was the outfit of the military genius who let his successes on the battlefield speak for him, of the wizard who didn't need you to know the devastating might he held at the tip of his mind, of the businessman who could ruin you with a dismissive glance, or make you prosperous beyond your dreams with a single nod of approval. The only variant was the undertunic, a complex brownish-green thing with a subtle, evasive pattern to it.

With a growl and a yank, Coalhouse pulled the cuff off - and almost the entire ensemble melted into clothes that could only be described as clean, comfortable, and workmanlike. While the undertunic remained the same, the rest was clothing a laborer would wear loading or unloading a cart, baking bread, carving a block for a castle, or any of the hundreds of basic, necessary duties of the working man. "Floods and muds," he cursed, "give me a worker's meeting, an owner's conclave, anything but a broken-wheel high-society soirée."

"Maybe it doesn't come tied, Coalhouse," Alysandra soothed. "Or maybe you just don't have a good idea how it should look when it's tied. Or how it's supposed to be tied. Go on, put them on again."

Muttering under his breath, the half-orc brought the translucent sleeve to his hand, brow furrowed in concentration, then pulled it on. The simple outfit rippled once more into the exceptional, understated clothing appropriate for the dinner with the Lord Mayor and the King-to-be - again, with the tie dangling loose around his neck. "I --"

"Oh, shut up, Coal." Alysandra stepped in front of him, her fingers reaching up to describe to the 'errant' cloth the correct configuration it should take; when she was done, the tie was like the rest of him, subtle and understated but with a hint of the capabilities resting within. "There. Look at that in the mirror."

He did, standing there and adjusting the cloth for comfort as he fixed the structure in his mind. "What's the word on Freiya Fjar-Bana-Högg?"

"Gone to talk with the Cenobitics." She smiled slightly as Coalhouse gave her one of his long, level looks via the mirror. "'Talk' might be an exaggeration," she conceded, "considering their oath of silence and her social fright. I'd like to tan the hide of whatever dwarf put the fear of social interaction with her, but at least she's not as bad as she was when we first took her in."

"Still think it was a male?" Coalhouse asked as he finally slid the magical sleeves off, concentrated, then pulled them back on; the reappearing width of cloth came back tied into the same configuration Alysandra had assembled.

"Yes," she said without a moment's hesitation. "She's worse around men, you know she is. Though since she tends to shoot them more frequently," she added judiciously, "she's getting a little better with your race as well."

"Orcs?" He repeated the process again, to make sure he had the imagery correct in his mind.

"Men," Alysandra replied without a trace of irony. "Now, do you want me to talk to the Hospitallers or the Wanderers?"

"Ugh. As much as I'd like to get a sense of the Wanderers, you have a better chance of getting actual results from the Hospitallers. Who's looking into the Coursers?"

"Jocasta. She's had a crush ..."

"... on them for three years, yeah, I know. Started carrying around that old burned-out torch and leading Tero's pony, pretending she was one of us, carrying for the Coursers. Here's hoping she doesn't fall all over herself gushing about how she's always wanted to join them."

"She's fifteen, Coalhouse, she's not stupid."

"You weren't stupid at fifteen? I was stupid at fifteen."

"At fifteen you persuaded Ghent to take you on that trip from Port Ice to Rostov. By the time you two got back, you'd already started putting together the Inglourious Basterds. I'll admit she's likely to try to get into the pants of half their camp, but Jocasta still knows where her loyalties lie." She turned him away from the mirror after he'd done yet another test of the magical sleeves, then brushed flat the shoulders of the outfit. "Relax, it looks fine."

"Uh-huh. Speaking of Ghent, I take it he's looking into the Aldori contingent?"

"Considering how many years he's been on the road, he's bound to know at least one or two of their carters. If we're lucky, they might be willing to work with us, if not for us. Got your trinkets?"

Coalhouse fished inside his tunic for a pouch, tumbling a thick gold neck chain, a couple of rings, and a small fibula enameled with the interpenetrated 'IB' of their group. Only amongst the family did they call themselves the Inglourious Basterds; officially, they were the International Businessmen. But the clasps (a matching one of which Alysandra wore) mostly matched the signet rings both of them had (and the third of which Ghent possessed), and were as understated of signs of their group as could realistically be arranged. "Going to go to the Hospitallers like that?" Coalhouse wondered.

"Oh, hell no," Alysandra responded emphatically. "Gotta get my advocate on." After removing necklace, rings, and bracelet, she tugged off the sleeve of her gown, revealing the clothing she actually wore to be nearly as mundane and practical as those which clad Coalhouse. The glint of silver glinted beneath her tunic, though, hinting at the mithril chain shirt beneath. Pulling the sleeve back on, the workman's clothing rippled and turned into a sober black suit of the sort preferred by attorneys, accountants, and undertakers alike.

"Earrings," said Coalhouse drily.

Alysandra grinned. "Thanks, I might've missed that," she said as she reached up and drew each one out of the piercings. "So. Make contacts, get a sense of them ... ?"

"Aye. Find out who can say 'yes'," Coalhouse added. "No need to hammer out an agreement for protection of the Surtova's baggage train yet; push comes to shove, we can finish up at the wine-and-dine, or even after. I'd like to get a sounding-out on whether or not they're providing for their own gear transport. Get in with the big dogs ..."

"... make the little dogs think twice, I know how it works, Coalhouse. I taught you."

"Heh heh heh heh. All right. I heard rumors of someone linked to the crime groups up north, but I can't tell if they're real or not, so keep your ears open. If we have a criminal element on their way south with us, I definitely want to get an agreement hammered out with them soonest. They don't play in our yard, we leave them alone right back."

"Coalhouse ..." Alysandra's voice and expression both had a dangerous look to them.

"Look, Aly, I don't like 'em any more than you do, but they're going to exist whether we want them to or not. There's just too much money in it for them not to. As long as they stick to -- what was it Ghent called it again?"

"'Victimless crimes.' Like a woman who has no choice other than to sell her body --"

Coalhouse lifted his hand, palm out, to stop her incipient rant. "Leave the scourging of the criminal underworld to the paladins and the inquisitors, Aly. You want to crusade, you go right ahead, but do it off my clock. You know d@mn well I'm willing to hire any competent person who wants to work for me and be loyal to the Basterds, but there is no way in the Nine Hells you can convince me my mother doesn't enjoy her job."

Alysandra kept her disgruntled face on through his words, but snorted in amusement at the last and finally waved away the argument. "All right, all right. Anything else?"

"Yeah, ask Quentin and Lida to go out to do some ear-swivelling and rumor-sifting. Make sure they bring someone with to watch their backs. Mmmm ..." He worried at a small tusk with his tongue, considering.

"Delga and Burl?" Alysandra suggested.

"Sounds like a plan - boys and girls, don't mix and match."

"Not since that debacle at W. H. Smith's."

"Place needed rearranging anyhow," Coahouse said stoutly. "All right. I need to double-check the cartage carrying His Royal Puckeredness's solid-silver chamberpots. Meet you in ... two hours?"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth? Keep the stabletalk in the stable, boyo. And get there a few minutes early this time so we can get presentable, okay Coalhouse?"

"I'll do my best, big sister. Now scoot."

Sacha exited the tent, pulling on a cord to let the layers fall back into place closing the entrance. Master Aolis still needed to get ready for the dinner, even with his magic and enchanted items he still insisted on wearing at least similar if less fanciful clothes beneath. She walked over to the pair tending the horses.

"Master Aolis would like you to have these letters delivered, in your special way. Understood."

Arden was the first to answer, taking the letters in both hands.

"That's easy Sacha, plenty to start with and only more sense the camps started plopping down. Shouldn't take long."

He gave her a bucktooth smile. In the early days she had disapproved of the siblings, their lack of etiquette and what they truly were bothered her. Yet her master would hear nothing of it and had proven her wrong many times over. Still she would have preferred they at least learn to address her properly as the eldest student.

"Thank you, Arden."

She was on her way out to start her own deliveries when Kioko called out to her from her seat.

"Hey leave the boss some energy for the dinner. You don't have to worry about him finding a puff to press."

Sacha whirled on the feline, Kioko had already rolled backwards easily to her feet with a close lipped catty smile.

"How dare...."

She had broken into a laugh and was waving her away.

"Your to easy, better not waste time if your doing something you know."

She glared at the overgrown cat, wanting to say and do more. Still the rude trollop was right and she knew it. Compared to the siblings, Kioko was nearly barbaric without even a lick of sense. Sadly her skills could not be denied in the wilderness. None the less the woman was simply primitive. No sense of decorum. She turned away to go about her business, the feline's chuckle following her.

Sacha seeks out the locations of each of those whose letter she holds. Politely waiting for them to read and offer a response before bowing and leaving to seek out the next.

Azrael's followers take to the streets to learn what they can, especially about the reward offered for Azrael's head - out of sheer curiosity, how much, and more importantly by whom and who might be trying to fulfill the contract. They will frequent various bars and dives, and talk to folks on the streets in less savory neighborhoods as well.

diplo=27

The word is on the streets. Most of the bandits that escaped The Restov Coursers move south following the Shrike river into the Greenlands. But the reward doesn't come from them, but from a Bandit Kingdom farther away. And a name is mentioned, a bandit ambassador came to spy on the groups going to attack them. Kressle.

As a fellow monk though, he ends up spending most of his time trying to learn what he can about the Cenobitic Order.

diplo=19 (+ bonus)

The camp of the cenobitic order is simple, clean, ordered, but most of all, quiet. No one impede his movement into it, and nobody comes to greet him. The monks wear simple robes, and inexpressive faces, and bald heads, working in mundane tasks to keep the camp going.

Having camped in a decent inn with all his followers Titian, Ezekiel and Ninefinger Flynn discuss how to handle the next days.

Ezekiel and Titans Squire will go to the team of Sir Rupert Surtova, checking on the other Knights and deliver notes to old friends and jousting-mates, listen to the other teams barter and trying to find out more.
Gather information=21 (Aid from the Squire)

Note, you are all in camps outside of the City. You are too many (and too well armed) for the city inns.

Ishana weighs up both options before deciding on investigating Rudolf. With a reputation for charming troublemakers, Ishana decided it certainly wouldn't be a waste of time to check them out. Unwilling to entrust the matter to anyone else, Ishana decides to judge their character and motivations for herself, and after determining the most likely bar or tavern where she might find The Four Swords, heads over there to observe. Once there, Ishana doesn't really intend to hide her presence, she's not intending to spy, but wants to be in proximity to see how they conduct themselves.

Perception=18

The tavern is seedy, and the crowd too. The four swords, the dashing and charming troublemakers she expected. After one small arm wrestle and a small bout of a fight, one of them, dark haired and with a goatee, spot Ishana.

The followers, on the other hand, Ishana sends to hunt out street rumors, primarily to learn anything that might be useful to Amavin at the party, or alternatively anything particularly interesting about Sir Rupert or Rudolf. Ishana is aware that rumors might not always be true, but the truth usually lies somewhere within one and besides, she feels that a network thrives on being at home on the streets anyway.

Gather Information=15 (+ bonus)

There is discomfort on the streets. Talk of the venomous influence of the "Issian bastards" pretending to choke Rostland, and raze Restov to the ground. Talk about the coming war, and the need to prepare for it. And the target of most of the insults and threats is His Majesty Rupert Surtova.

"... and take Delga with you. Burl, stick with Quentin, make sure he gets back in one piece, all right?" The last of her orders out, with her siblings nodding agreement, Alysandra touched Lida on the shoulder, then gave her a quick hug. "Be careful out there, Little Flower. Go lightly."

Pausing just inside the doorway out to the street to 'change' her clothing into the hint-of-flamboyance style of a travelling entertainer, Alysandra stepped out into the street. The pace of her steps, the bubbling excitement of the upcoming get-together, the vast project they approach all bubble together, and almost unconsciously she begins to recite as she walks ...

... Even-handed Judge A-ba-dar,
Sultry stinging Cal-lis-tri-a,
Des-na Star-Song of the Dreaming,
Dragon Da-hak of destruction,
Struck they then the Beast Ro-va-gug
Struck with flame and subtle poison
Struck like hammer on the anvil
Struck his mind-scape and his body,
Drove him wild with pain and madness.
Sought he to destroy good Dou-Bral,
And consume his sister Shel-yn,
Feast upon their art and music,
Eat forever love and beauty.
Down the flaming sword descended
Did the scimitar distract him
Draw away the Rough Beast's ire
His eyes fell upon Sar-en-rae,
Focus sharp on the Dawn-Flower ...

The Chaining of the Rough Beast is not, most would consider, the most select and aristocratic of poetry, performed or otherwise, but it has a determined, driving, implacable rhythm that has kept it in circulation for thousands of years. Its origin remains unclear; some say it was created by Shelyn herself, but most of those people get scoffed right out of the room, because its hammering beat bears more similarity to the marching of armies or the hammering of steel.

But it is fun to execute.

Performing the entire epic poem takes most of four hours; five, if you have only one chanter and you give them breaks. Alysandra started at the start of the Final Battle, though, the description of the conflict of Sarenrae and Rovagug, the flashing combat that distracted the Rough Beast from the prison-trap being prepared by Asmodeus and Dou-Bral. It allows her to recite the last lines of that section as she approaches the camp gates of the Blessed Hospitallers.

... Slammed they shut the mith-ral shackles,
Clapped them on around endless arms
Wrapped him up in ab-y-si-um,
Chains to bind and bow his foul head
Set the sun-fire everlasting
Set it burning at his bosom
Punish endlessly the Rough Beast
Keep Ro-va-gug from returning.
Sealed behind shining Star Towers
Locked behind doors ad-a-man-tine
With a key of vir-i-di-um
Locked the door into the Dead Vault
Thus did he, the Prince of Darkness,
And hung the key around his neck.

With a flourish, she sweeps a bow to the gate-guards at the Blessed Hospitallers' camp, waiting half a heartbeat for applause to start. If it does, she holds the bow for a three-count more, and bows every five or so seconds afterwards until the applause is done; if it doesn't come at all, well, she straightens right back up and addresses herself to the camp's guardians. "Good afternoon," says she. "My name is Alysandra Janus, and I am looking to speak to one of your famous superiors or their top aides."

Note, you are all in camps outside of the City. You are too many (and too well armed) for the city inns.

In that case two emerald coloured tents stand on the corner of the area designated to the Blessed Holitalers. Behind them a few oxen peacefully graze. Although close to the capital there are wodden spikes aranged around the camp and two Soldier patrol. Proudly the flag of Titian Stagson flutters in the wind. The soldiers not on duty sharpen weapons, mend armor and take care of the menial tasks.

@ the Cenobitic camp:

"I am a student of the esoteric myself. I come to introduce myself and learn what I can of your order. I have no wish to intrude, or cause anyone to break oaths, but I would know more, if such can be spoken of." Hareth speaks softly to the young monk, not wishing to disturb the silence any more than necessary.

David's tent is located near the center of the group. It is modest and dull compared to the other tents. Inside, dagit grumbles and wanders about. His dragonscale armor is hanging on the wall, instead he has donned a rough cloth robe found commonly among dwarves.
Selina wore a more flowing and soft dress. She nearly danced as she explored the tent, listening to a song only the deaf know.

Dagit turned to her. selina, darling , he started. Salina stoped her soundless dance and turned to watch Dagit speak. why don't you get acquainted with the other followers in the camp? I think it would do you good to meet some new freinds... particularly non-dwarf ones.
Salina nodds and takes her soundless dance outside.

I think Rudolf Ferdinand Aldori's group may be worth checking out. So I'll head that way. Make sure there is no trouble brewing there."

Bachu then heads out to see what he can find out about them.
Diplomacy=21

He arrives at the camp, all flashy and perhaps a little bit "overdone", as if trying to hard to reflect the statue of his occupant.

The tall [for a gnome] hellknight stood outside his companies tents, looking at them, arranged in nice and neat rows.
"Alexander, have the dwarves come back yet?[b]
The young halfing merely nods.
[b]"Son I know you want to meet and greet, you have always been that way, even before I rescued you, now however might be the time to let you run wild. But first I have some things I need you to do. First and Foremost I need you to send a message to the Temples of Abadar,Asmodius,Iomedae, Iroi, Torag. I would like to lead ceremonies at each temple if it is permitted. Secondly I need you to send the Dwarven Brothers to the Dagit the Dragon Slayer, see if he needs anything. Third, send in cousin Igthar Rocknose, I have some messages to send him with once thats done, you can be off with whatever it is you wish to do. Though I do expect you to take Axbeak Rocknose, and Snow with you. Those two animals will without a doubt keep you safe in the city.
Leave me I have much to pray for."

Looking at the the rat leave the message on the floor he smiled a bit before craking the seal and reading it.
"My My, so busy are we today..Yes Cousin Rocknose, I need you to deliver the messages, and check up on ventures and bagage companies in the area, we might have need of them.
I am not too old for this, but I have to admit that I will find some small comfort in the soft beds of this city, and perhaps even a womans company

[OOC Rolls here]
[Taking 10 on Diplomacy=27]
[Taking 10 on Diplo towards Dagit, 29..The dwarven twins are trying to be very polite]
[/ooc]

Alexander was exstatic when he was released and called over his Fathers mount as well as his own as he hastily went about his buiness, hurridly and with much fervor.
Striding up to the Temple of Abadar, since that was the first on his list, he knocked on the door thrice before entering, "Exscuse me, is it possible to see the head priest of the temple, I have a message for him from Sir Axhammer Rocknose, he has questions about leading a prayer service in the city when you have time.
Leaving the note at with a priest he moved on to each temple on the list before finding that he was finished.
Can't beleive that took so long, must have taken me like, an hour, even running all the way on Snow, the cuddliest bear ever! I am free to do what I want to, but I am not sure what I want to do...Oh I got it!!
Quickly went the young halfliing back to his fathers camp, and started searching for the other youngesters so as to take them out and search the other camps.

Bachu nods to guard. "My name is Bachu of Soralyon. I have not been summoned no. I travel down south with the Righteous Wanderers and have come to make sure there is an open line of communication between our groups. If your sergeant or lieutenant is available I will speak to him."

"So, why are we staying in a tent outside the city instead of with Aunt Selanol and Uncle Dorifan?"

Sighing, Aramil half-turned towards his young cousin, responding to her question, "Because us, along with the rest of the Restov Coursers, could fill their house several times over, and because it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the group of just the few of us stayed there."

Activating his cuffs, he styled the resulting outfit into the current fashion of the Swordlords - knee-length coats that buttoned from hip to the neck with an embroidered collar over a shirt and nice yet comfortable trousers and well-polished, well-fitting boots. Dark, subdued colors were currently favored, so he went with a black coat and silver embroidery. Looking at himself in the mirror, he turned to his audience.

Calaida, his cousin, wrinkled her nose at him and said, "Black? You look so dull and lifeless in that."

Porablum chimed in, "Oh, it definitely needs some color. Maybe blue the color of the sky and some yellow like in daffodils. Ooo, and purple, like a late sunset!" As the Gnome spoke, her outfit changed colors, matching what she was describing and somehow looking more garish than normal.

Fixing the pair of them with a look, he turned back to the mirror and said, "The Swordlords favor dark colors, and black certainly qualifies, wouldn't you say?"

Calaida responded, "Yes, but you're also an Elf, and Elves don't wear lots of black like they're depressed or in mourning or whatever."

Sighing, Aramil looked at his outfit again. Perhaps it was a little somber...

Shifting the color to a dark, forest green, but leaving the cuffs and collar black, he expanded the embroidery a bit before turning back and asking, "Better?"

Calaida smiled and nodded, while Porablum said, "I still think it needs some purple."

Shaking his head, he looked at her and said, "Have Bolys and Kartok gone to ensure supplies are arranged yet?"

"They left half an hour ago. Kennet went to see if he could learn anything from Rudolf Ferdinand Aldori III - probably about more than how to swing those dueling swords they favor."

Aramil wished Kennet had remained at the camp, since his hotheadedness was likely to get him in trouble. Still, perhaps he'd manage to learn something useful. "Porablum, could you go to Rupert's camp? Noleski's meddling irks me, and I mean to know as much about his cousin as possible."

With a shrug, Porablum left the tent, heading towards the Surtova camp.

Taking out the jewelry he'd accumulated over the years, he said, "Calaida, help me out with picking which pieces to wear"

This gala tonight was a necessary inconvenience, but it would hopefully lead to far greater things.

As Porablum Walked towards the Surtova camp, she thought, Aramil really seems worked up about these guys. I wonder what he expects from them.

As she approached the camp, she changed her clothes into a more conventional performing attire and went to a nearby group saying, "Greetings, kind sirs! Since we all seem to be traveling to the Stolen Lands, I thought I would come perform for you in the spirit of goodwill!"

She began singing and playing on her lute, moving from cluster to cluster and gregariously chatting as she did so.

Using Versatile Performance to use Perform (sing) in place of Diplomacy to Gather Information.

Perform (sing): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24

He did, standing there and adjusting the cloth for comfort as he fixed the structure in his mind. "What's the word on Freiya Fjar-Bana-Högg?"

"Gone to talk with the Cenobitics."

Freiya will report that the monks are very quiet, and seems to have a very simple way of life. None of them talked to her, and she didn't started a conversation either. They don't seem to have a leader or hirarchical organization, not to have anything distinguishing one from each other except their faces and body.

Investigating the other player groups.

You can do that Roleplaying.

"Uh-huh. Speaking of Ghent, I take it he's looking into the Aldori contingent?"

"Considering how many years he's been on the road, he's bound to know at least one or two of their carters. If we're lucky, they might be willing to work with us, if not for us. Got your trinkets?"

In fact, he doesn't. All the porters of the Rudolph's party are Restov's men, that have worked for his family for a long time. Butlers, more than porters. And that means they are not used to REAL work carrying that kind of baggage over wildlands.

"Yeah, ask Quentin and Lida to go out to do some ear-swivelling and rumor-sifting. Make sure they bring someone with to watch their backs. Mmmm ..." He worried at a small tusk with his tongue, considering.

"Delga and Burl?" Alysandra suggested.

Nobody talks to them. They are met with suspicion, disdain and even some light defiance. You all are "Surtova's henchmen" to the good people of the free city Restov.

Ishana allowed herself to look slightly flustered, as if being called over was the most exciting thing that had ever happened in her life, before heading in the direction of the dark haired man, sitting in a chair nearby.

"Marriage is so overrated" she remarks in an uninterested tone while simultaneously flashing the man a slight smile, before making an obvious glance over at the table where the arm wrestle had taken place and raising her eyebrows slightly. "That's certainly some impressive arm strength you showed us before....let me guess, are you one of those heavy labourers around here?" she inquires, deliberately understating the man's real background so as to feign ignorance. She's careful to phrase the response in a tone of light curiosity to avoid offence. After waiting a suitable pause, Ishana grants a light laugh before making an elegant gesture"Oh, excuse me where would be my manners. I'm Ishana, an elf from Kyonin, and you might be...?"

[OOC Rolls here]

[Taking 10 on Diplomacy=27]
[Taking 10 on Diplo towards Dagit, 29..The dwarven twins are trying to be very polite]
[/ooc]

David smiles at the dwarves and their politeness. It is always good to see others of my kind. You may tell your master I requre nothing but a nice drink if hard dwarven "holy water" Dagit winks and chuckles. but in all seriousness, I appreciate the gesture. after dismissing the massagers, Dagit goes to check his supply list...let's see, rations, holy text... do we really need that many?

I accidentally posted with the wrong alias, plz remove grimble grimble from the character list :)

After receiving the message from Sacha, Titian moves to Dagit and with his usual polite nod hands over the letter.
"Seems someone wants to talk to us. The more the better. This will be lawless lands, and although I think we are more than sufficient to bring peace and prosperity, there will be more groups. Apart from it being polite, it would could be just useful to get to know more of the others. What do you think Dagit. Your council is always appreciated."

Dagit sighs. I'm not the type to spy on competition... but I admit that recognizance is a vital tool... perhaps we should offer a meeting, to help establish connections with them, form early alliances and create a basis for future friendship. "As strong as the mountains" we always say... that's not just a boast to our strengths, but a piece of advise.

Dagit turns to his suit of armor. that there was earned trough teamwork! And through teamwork we will persevere. So we should offer out friendship with the other groups, in my opinion. Take it as you wish.

outside the tent, selinah studies onw of her books.

Aolis is reclining on a chair as Erika massaged his shoulders and Bariel his feet. As Sacha entered, raising an eyebrow at the sight.

"Why am I doing this."

Bariel complained.

"Erika quite enjoys it."

"She doesn't have to do your feet, so why am I."

"She didn't spill wine on one of my tomes while reading it."

"It was Kioko's fault, she kept leaning over my shoulder. She threw me off balance."

"I suppose she also put the wine in your hand and forced you to drink it while reading."

He remained silent for a moment before responding.

"A simple cantrip was enough to fix it."

"Aw yes but you miss the point. What if it had been acid or if the tome had been so old that even water would cause the pages to break apart. You do not risk losing the knowledge, more so over something as meaningless as common wine. If Kioko or anyone for that matter does not take your warning to heart, then you make good on it."

He gives Bariel a hard look and he withers beneath it. Sacha clears her throat, causing his glare to shift to her and soften to his usual self.

"Done already dear Sacha?"

"Yes Master, you should be getting ready to leave."

"Your certainly right. Erika do keep an eye on him. Bariel, you will not read another word from my tomes until I say otherwise. Help the Rovell's in their duties."

"Yes Master."

Both apprentices leave. Sacha walks over to fetch the clothes he had on a rack besides a full length mirror. Aolis was already stripping causing her to avert her eyes. Without so much as hint of modesty he begins to change as Sacha speaks.

"You were a little hard on Bariel. He is a good apprentice."

Finishing with the under garments as well as his pants he replies as he starts on the shirt and inner robe.

"He is, still he and Erika lack in the basics and their foundation is shallow. You would be surprised how many wizards have such bad habits. It is these very habits that cause their abilities to stagnant to a crawl. Better for them to learn that from me then hope they have the talent or insight to overcome that on their own. Bariel may have the time due to his heritage but Erika certainly does not. Such is the reason why I am hard on both of them. Perhaps in time on others as well. I have not forgotten you Sacha."

At this she finally looked down to see him smiling at her. Sometimes she liked it, this was not one of those times. He had finished putting on the inner robes and held out his arms. She took the outer robe and helped him put it on as they both wrapped and folded sashes and straps in the complex dressing. Finally when it was done she placed and fixed an ascot tie below his neck to complete the outfit. With one hand he grabbed a small simple hat placing it upon his head, his simple robes burst with colors and jewels, shifting to his will. A much more fanciful and somewhat garish version of itself. His robes became trimmed by runes and symbols, a serpentine dragon flowed across his shoulder blades with it's head laying on both. On the back his collar sprouted white feathers with green eyes near their tips, from his cuffs grew mithral thread in the form of vines up his arms, and finally a printed black lotus flower appeared on on ether side of his chest.

"Seems to be missing something."

The pale forest green darkened near his feet from up his legs rather then the usual fading and his plain brown ascot tie changed to a deep purple.

"Much better."

His other items shifted and changed under the magic as well. When all was said and done he wore a thin circlet of silver with three gems, a pair of rubies with a dark sapphire between them, as well as ear cuffs with a single sky blue topaz, and finally a cane of darkwood with etched vines holding small silver flowers with a number of gems at their center.

"A bit much really, but I suppose these types rather like it. Do wear a fetching dress, something long in a dark red color I think would suit you best."

Sacha was shaking her head.

"I think I will do just fine myself, Master."

"Of course you will."

Again he gave a smile she did not like.

Christian looks on as the last of the supplies wagons came rolling into the inner courtyard of his makeshift camp. The camp was not ideal but it was defensible thanks in no small part to the efforts of the vanguard that was sent in advance of the main body of mercenary soldiers. Argent Dracas was a responding to the summons of his Majesty Rupert Surtova. The vanguard worked day and night to set up a defensible position and with no towers or ramparts, the simple defensible wooden staked wall surrounding the tents was better than nothing. The city help matters as no one would dare try and assault the powers that were being assembled, then again that would be the ideal time for an assassin or a quick strike group to attack. Christian knew that in his 9 years as a mercenary with most of those years in a leadership role, he has made his share of enemies. He planned on not being caught unaware.
Do you think this is wise? The voice was beautiful and delicate but the underlining tone was filled with an awesome power. Jasrella was a elegant woman who preferred her dealings to be quick, explosive and deadly. She kept the temper in check due to her almost decade of soldier training.
Christian smiles at his XO..It is not ideal but the end of this contract will justify the risk, besides the troops deserve to have their families here with them. Too long have they been scattered all over the world. It will do them good to know that are all safe and ready to help us create a home.
I hope this works, it is a big gamble. Not only could we lose all the families and friends but this could spell the end of the unit.
Christian turns and looks at Jasrella
Double the watch and change the rotations and routes hourly. I do not want anyone to know our routine. Jasrella looks and Christian and with a simple nod
I will see to it right away.
Christian turns to oversee the unloading of the supplies. He can hear Jasrella giving the orders to the sergeant.
I want the watch doubled and on controlled chaos. Make sure the dice are taken away for the night.
She turn towards Christian smiling. You know they will drink and gamble their salt away now that we are here.
True….so let us get them started on the drinking part.
The two leaders walk toward the fire in the center of their camp, trusting in those unfortunate to draw guard duty, to do their jobs. Once at the center of camp, Christian takes some time to look around at what they have created over the years. A-framed tents lined in neat rows. Horses groomed, watered and fed, The weapons and armor on racks ready to be put to use if the need should arise. A boy of 5 comes running up to him yelling his name. Uncle Christian!!!! The boy is the son of the only man he has lost to conflict. Darkan was a good man but ultimately he died protecting the unit. Grabbing the boy and hoisting him high into the air. You are getting so big, come let us go and celebrate our fortune Walking with the boy towards the make shift bar. Christian puts the boy down and looks around the assemble men and women. Stopping when the see his man…Big G, give us a song please..
Giovanni stands taller than anyone else in the group, his voice is deep with a strong and thick accent but his song warms the hearts and souls of those gathered.
Drink, for the wind blows cold and
Drink for The Wolf runs free.
Drink to the ships with sails like wings and
Drink to the storm-tossed seas.
Drink to the lasting nights
and those who warm our beds.
Drink to the mead that warms our hearts
and the cold that clears our head.
Drink to the Allfather's Eye
for Odin's sons are we.
Drink to the World-Tree where he hung
and the Runes of Mystery.
Drink to the truth of steel
and blood that falls like rain.
Drink to Valhalla's golden walls
and to our kinsmen, slain.
Drink to the Glory-field
where a man embraces death, and
thank the gods that we live at all
with our joyous dying breath!
Drink for the wind blows cold and
Drink for the Wolf runs free
Drink to the ships with the sails like wings
for Odin's sons are we!
The cheers are loud and long as the assemble members all shout Take a big drink!!!

The ale and mead are passed around freely and all enjoy the songs and stories of times long ago.
Do you think this is wise?
Christian puts down his drinking vessel and looks over at his XO…
It is not wise to be late, but it also is not wise to be early….. Seeing the way his XO looks at him, Christian decided that he should heed her warnings and heads off towards his tent to change.

After receiving the message from Sacha, Titian moves to Dagit and with his usual polite nod hands over the letter.

"Seems someone wants to talk to us. The more the better. This will be lawless lands, and although I think we are more than sufficient to bring peace and prosperity, there will be more groups. Apart from it being polite, it would could be just useful to get to know more of the others. What do you think Dagit. Your council is always appreciated."

Titian will go to Ellionander

Alysandre will be stopped in front of the compound of the blessed Hospitallers by a man wearing an emerald Tunic and holding a halberd at guard. After inquiring her business and calling for his sergeant by blowing his horn a manArmor is emerald green, not red shows up to pick her up. Introducing himself as Ninefinger Flynn he leads her to Amavin.

Alysandra gives a bow to show courtesy; she is, after all, a guest. Walking behind Ninefinger as he leads the way, between the camp's gate and the destination he's set for her, she resets her clothing to the sober black suit she'd shown to Coalhouse, 'of the sort preferred by attorneys, accountants, and undertakers alike.'

Amavin turns slightly as Ninefinger announces both him and his guest. Amavin gazes slightly at the half elf, noting the black suit and formal attire, making a minor assumption that whatever was about to be discussed, was probably resulting to business, rather than anything political in the immediate area.

Truth be told, Amavin does feel slightly self conscious at the moment, being mostly half finished in her preparations for the dinner. She had completed her attire, favouring a stunning yellow and black silk dress with golden jewelry selected for the occasion, but she hadn't quite decided on the sort of hairstyle or perfume to complete the effect. Nevertheless, she tries not to let this bother her too much as she concentrates her focus on the women in front of her.

"So, my name would be Amavin, some might know me as a Lady of Calistria, or alternatively the leader of 'The Blessed Hospitallers', as some of the bards might know us by, although I use the term "lead" rather loosely - I tend to defer leadership to whoever is most suited to the given situation. You need not fear however, on this occasion I can speak freely to you on our behalf. Might I ask what is it that's brought you here tonight? As you can no doubt see, its quite a busy occasion for some of us."

Amavin remarks all of this in a soft and careful tone. A trace amount of defensiveness creeps into her tone, the result of her self consciousness as explained above, but aside from this she remains courteous and polite, hands slightly folded on her lap as she sits in a chair, indicating for Alysandra to likewise sit.

With a silent shuckle the sergeant bows and moves away. After a few moments one can hear laughter.

A guard comes up to Christian just as he is about to leave the festivities and whispers in his ear. Seeing the conversation, Jasrella moves to join in. The conversation is quick and short. Turning to the crowd that is enjoying a well deserved break, he calls over several people and gives them quick and short orders.
It seems that we have a guest at our door. Walgrim, I would like for you to head over to the Azrael’s Encampment and inform him of our situation. I want to keep him in the loop ok. Jeggred, get down to Aramil and do the same. Go on and get moving, be safe we do not know what this is about yet. Sarraphina try and find Dumonte. I am not sure where he is as he has not reporter in yet. Krey and Liam, I need you two to go and find out about this Mersus Lebeda. He is encamped over on the south west corner from the main gate. Inquire about his situation and offer him our assistance. If he and his men would like a place to put down for the night…send them over to me. Be nice and DO NOT get into trouble. Turning to his XO, he sees here giving out her own orders. ….make sure the guards are informed of the situation, get moving. Christian statesI would have though Azreal would be taking control of the diplomatic end of things now that we are here....
She turns to him and inquires as to what is going on. Christian turns and starts to walk towards the front gates with Jasrella falling in step right beside him.
it seems that we have visitors, and yes I meant more than one. he hands over the letter that was found in his quarters.this is from Aolis, and yes he is doing this to let me know that he can do. Jasrella reads the letter and ignites it on fire at the next torch. Tossing it to the ground..We have never had contact with him nor have we had any quarrels with his…group.. Christian does continues to look forward at the gates and at the half-orc that is standing there. that is true and I personally do not have any problems with him or his…group as you say. He is a talented mage in his own right and has earned his reputation. We have never met but back on the Broken Claw contract he was one of the contacts I was sent to inquire about that scroll we found with their Witch Doctor thing. seeing Jasrella look over at him..yes that scroll..well he knows his stuff and I would rather give him the respect he deserve and move on without poking that elven cat
When they come to the gate..
Christian speaks up and walks right past his guards to stand in front of this half-orc.
Bowing at the waist, Christian’s smile is wide, charming and inviting.
Late night for a walk My lady, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit? How is good old Porter these days….

Liam and Krey will take 10 on diplomacy when and if they find mersus

Walking over to Dagit, the tall [for a gnome] Hellknight stopped and saluted as was his want to do around anyone who had the pleasure of being a servant of the Gods. He wore hose, and tunic at the moment, a knife at his waiste and longsword on the other. It was an unwritten rule, that all hellknights must walk the camp armed, and when on watch Armored. The outfit looked rich in appointment, one of the few vanities the Gnome had was that clothes that he wore were expensive, just like any armor. To see his rooms, and tent it was Spartan in extreme, but ah the clothes. He had no vices, but this was close to one, he bought clothes at various places they stopped, and would ask Dagit's oppinion. The reason behind it was simple, Dagit would live as long as he were they to both reach old age, elves outlived them by centuries but still.
Speaking in Dwarf he gives small smile, "It is good to see you, the young armingers tell me you have need of nothing now. Taking off his longsword he left it at the door of the tent, so as not to be rude.
"Dagit, I come to you with questions I can't ask the 5 Gods, something that I thought you might be able to answer. You know of my adopted son, Alexander Burfoot, he is young yet, but I fear for his future should anything happen to me. I fear he is not ready to take the steps into being a hellknight, Law is not as important to him as it is me." Taking a seat on the floor he sat cross-legged, and kept his voice down incase anyone was listening, "I will out live him, that is the truth of it if we never fall in battle, and it causes me fear and pain. I always come to you with my religious and emotional needs. You are after all the priest I confide in, and who I confess to. Tell me this please, why did I rescue that boy all those years ago if I have to watch him slowly grow old and die anyway? Today is supposed to be a day of joy and ceremony and yet all I can see is my poor boy surrounded by Yellow Daffodils as we lay him into the ground."

Weakness came in many forms and the hellknights attempted to purge it from themselves, and yet the Gnome Cleaved to the pain, and to the boy that he adopted 14 years ago, and he whisperd barely loud enough for Dagit to hear, "Those are his favorite flowers, he enjoys so many things that are yellow. I can remember feeding him eggs all those years ago, he was so sickly and pale, so tiny, so skinny. I pulled him out of there, pulled him up from the pits that he was in, I love him. Today dressing up and in somber gear, I see it as if by an Occular vision. Tell me dear freind, was it worth it? Is this pain I feel deep in my chest that causes me to feel as if my heart were breaking, for my very soul to be crying in pain......was it worth all of this to know that I will outlive my only child?

Blowing his oxhorn when he enters the camp he slides off of Snow, while telling the Axbeak to follow.
He wound the horn again, and then yelled out, "SACHA, SELINA, COME ON WE CAN GO WHERE WE PLEASE NOW! LETS GO OUT AND FIND SOME FUN!
The Hellknights looked at the young man and merely shook thier heads, he was the Leaders son, and was given leeway as he was had yet to take oaths or even reach the age of majority at 17 he was still a child in thier eyes. All of them looked after him as a son, for many had not a single child to thier names. One of them looked at the young halfling and placed a finger over his mouth and made a shushing noise. They had all helped raise him from the time he was small, and loved him for the life he showed in everyday, and in small ways, the flowers he brought into the camp and gave to the women. The way that new things never ceased to amaze him, in the way that he changed in battle. They had taught him along with his adopted father everything they knew, attempted to keep him safe, and for the life of them they protected him as if he were their own.

Alexander blushed before wandering around the camp, the two large mounts following him, "Sacha? Selina? Where are you?! Lets go and see one of the other camps!!!!

Hearing Selina he ran full tilt till he found her, stopping a ways from her he approached slowly, not wanting to startle her. Moving into her line of vision he waves, and speaks to her, making sure she can see his lips, "Selina, do you want to come with me? I am going to find Sacha and we are all of us going to find out about the other camps. You can ride on snow, he likes it when you scratch behind his ear!
Alexander wanted to kick himself Selina could sometimes be deaf, and it was wrong of him to yell and expect her to him. It made him feel bad as if he had done something wrong, but it wasn't on purpose he told himself, he was just excited. Perhaps he should buy her something in the market, or get her flowers.
"Selina do you know where Sacha and the others are?

Hearing a knocking on the pole outside his tent, Aramil called out, "Enter."

Eldara walked into the tent, ducking to get through the opening, and said, "Lord Christian has sent Jeggred with a message."

"Very well, send him in." He moved to take a seat as she ducked out and sent Jeggred in. Listening to his report, Aramil nods and says, "Thank you, Jeggred. I am sure Lord de Elegante's preparations will be their most excellent, as always. Please tell him I will join him before he departs for the feast and we shall go together."

The soldier salutes and departs, and Aramil sighs. He had time and again learned to appreciate the military discipline instilled by Christian in battle, but he was never truly comfortable within such rigid structures. He supposed it was something of his Elven Heritage, despite not having been raised in the forested realm of Kyonin.

Regardless, they had a feast to get to. Putting the finishing touches on his jewelry, he belted on his Aldori Dueling Sword and left to meet Christian for the feast.

Sacha leaves Aolis' tent in a fury. Wearing a burgundy satin long dress with a high neck halter, with the neck piece being made of burnished gold.

"I'm drawing the line, I rather eat a fireball then wear that corset and let them be damned for calling it fashion. I don't care if many of my people wear it as well, I won't."

When Alexander approaches her, she whirls around having just noticed. Her hair, normally tamed by plain ribbons or ties flows in a fan of black as she raises one side of her dress to draw the rapier strapped to her long lithe leg. It takes her a moment to catch on. She lowers her rapier.

"Oh Alexander, my mistake I thought you were an enemy. Or Aolis trying to get that cursed corset on me. Do you need something?"

Dagit looks down at the gnome, a look of sympathy in his grey eyes. My dear axhammer, I know your plight. Salina will willow away and will be many years dead before I am gone. But I keep in mind to cherish all that we have together. When they are gone, their memory will live on through us... sounds like your son is out there now, based on the horns he so loudly uses... would you like some holy water? Dagit offers the gnome a tankers of ale.

I have not made an alias for selina... I think I may have to... brb

Selina smiles at alex, making sure to read everything he said. I would love to she said, her words slightly slured. I don't she said in response to his question.

When Sacha approaches she points at her and says, oh, right there.

Selina, chuckles at the thought of Sacha in a corset I do believe dwarves share your opinion about thin waists...

Taking the offered Tanker, he smiles sadly. "The boy is still that, a boy in mind, he is learning but slowly. Like something is wrong upstairs, I have been searching while we have been working for answers to how I can make him better. He follows my faith because its mine, he learned to ride because I did, he found a bear and since it was white named it Snow. I have these fears, though I understand what you say. I have kept alive the memory of many hellknights by always attempting to act with honor and order. But, I just don't know my friend, he should have grown up by now. Don't get me wrong he somehow intrinsically understands war, he fights with fervor and ferocity. To the extent that he is almost another person when fighting starts, I wonder if I have made him into some kind of monster! He was always such a sweet boy, always quick to help, and to cry, even now seeing flowers flattened makes his eyes tear up. Did I do something wrong? I feel as if I have done something to an innocent, we have talked about this over and over, but still I need to hear that I have done nothing wrong."
The tall [for a gnome] has eyes that seem to beg for forgiveness, something eating away at his insides, even though he has done nothing that needed forgiveness. It was something that he had to hear every so often, he had to know that how he raised the boy hadn't created a monster out of an innocent. He was like any father, and worried that he was doing everything wrong.

The halfling smiled up at the two tall women, seeing them, then looked from one to other. "Father....I mean Hellknight Rocknose said that I could go and wander around, he said that I could visit others! We should all go! Can you ask Uncle...Preist Underhill if he will let you go Selina? Sacha, I did not mean to startle you, but if you go with me you might not have time to wear a corset thing, specially if its bad. Hellknight Rocknose doesn't like bad things.
Suddenly he cocked his head and looke back and forth, "Father hasn't said anything about waistes, are we going on a diet? I don't want too though, I like eating food! The Halfling looks at both as if something had happened, he was so sad looking, as if something he loved was being taken from him.

Selina chuckles at the short man and pokes her head into the tent. Uncle? She says to get his attention. Dagit looks to her. I am going with Alex Dagit nodds and waves her away. Before she leaves though she sees the tall [for a gnome] hellknight. He turns to Alex and smiles. Rocknose inside she says to him,

Once Selina is out, Dagit looks down at Axhammer. Yes, we all have these thoughts, that we have somehow failed our prodigy. But you have not failed. It is our job, as caretakers, to watch them, and be proud of what they do, whether or not it makes it to your expectations. We will see them perish before we are even old, but we will also see their children, and perhaps even their children's children. You can have more than just one Alexander in your life.you will have him for longer than anyone else... you will watch him coninue for as long as you live. But if we had children of our own kind... we would see only two generations... Dagit drinks from his own tankard

Sacha shakes her head, again sending the long black locks waving.

"It's not my waist I am concerned about, it's everything else above it. Anyways I do not think I will have time to go with you. Besides settling on preparations of my own camp. I'll be escorting Master Aolis, apparently my presence will prove useful. Not that I doubt his words, I just don't like how he said them."

He sheaths her weapon back under her dress with a slight frown.