CotCT Gameplay Thread! (Inactive)

Game Master leinathan

A group of PCs brought together by a shared hatred are met with far more than just a decrepit criminal. Can they band together and save the day?

Map of Korvosa


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Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

"Tonight would be a good time for you to meet Zellara," says Fredo, noticing Burahl's guilty conscience but respecting Cressida's instructions not to make more of it. "We've been offered houseroom in the barracks, near the children. Thus tonight will also be a good opportunity to get to know some of the Shoanti if we can."

<Thousand Bones, do any of your people speak the tongue of Taldor?> Fredo doesn't relish the possibility of having to spend the evening translating, but while he has few qualms about leaving the children with the Shoanti, some of the others might need to get used to them first before they can get used to the idea.


Global Buffs:

The old shaman's cheeks crinkle with his smile, and he responds "Yes, in fact, I do. I should hope I do, as I'm here to be an ambassador for my people. These men here are my escort, here to keep me and the children safe. I am Thousand Bones, a shaman of the Skoan-Quah Clan.. Your name is?"


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

"Goffred Giulianoff of Sirathu," says Fredo, sounding relieved. "My friends call me Fredo," he adds, gesturing towards them. His leg twinges painfully as his upper body twists. Cat yowls. "Sorry for my brusqueness," he says. "I need to see a healer. In the meantime, you should speak to Akiki, the woman with the vast eyes. Her sister was among the children we rescued from bondage, and thus of all of us she has the most right to say whether they may find refuge with you."


Global Buffs:

"Your friends call you Fredo? I am confused, such a name has no derivation from the other portions of your name. Why do they call you that?" Thousand Bones has a quizzical look as he approaches Fredo, holding up his hands. "And do not worry, I am a healer, let me take a look."

He bids Fredo to sit down, and when Fredo is on the ground, slowly removes the blade from Fredo's leg and sets it on the ground next to him. "Oh, this? This is but a scratch. I will have it taken care of in but a moment." Reaching towards the wound, light energy envelops his hand. When he touches Fredo, the young wizard feels warmth spread up his leg, all the way up into his chest, and the muscles stitch themselves shut.

"Do any of the rest of you need healing? Perhaps the young elf? I hear you wish to speak with me."

Thousand Bones' cure light wounds: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

Fredo breathes deeply in through his nose, then out through his mouth as Thousand Bones' magic darns his wound back together. He smiles at the man's scholarly interest in etymology. "Ah, thank you...They call me that because I asked them to," he says cheekily. "Why did I ask them to? My father served Queen Domina and King Eodred as Prefect of Sirathu before he died. 'Goffred' means 'regal' in Chelish. He picked it for its royalist associations. He and my mother also, however, taught us to think for ourselves, and when I moved to Korvosa I found I couldn't abide the royalist party or the neglect of the people that it defended. Ileosa has moved from neglect to bloody repression, and is backing off that stance much too slowly.

"In my studies of history and magic, I learned that the ancient rune representing the syllable 'fred' meant 'peace'. So I appended a suffix to it, and started using that as my name." The healing complete, Fredo slides the silver dagger back into his robes and gets up off the ground. "What associations are drawn with your name? Beyond the obvious."


Raijinn trusts Fredo enough to speak for them, so the transition of the conversation into Shoanti, a language he does not understand, leaves him untroubled. However, he quickly tenses up when Cressida utters the phrase 'I will continue to use you'. While he understood that there was a distinct difference in motives and behaviours, he couldn't help but be reminded of the way that Gaedren treated him in his youth. But, this was different, wasn't it? They were following a cause, and doing what's right. Weren't they?

At the reminder of the fire, Raijinn's spirits sink even further. When he had burned Lamm's establishment, it was to keep the information from others. He certainly hadn't locked the man inside first. There was no honour in that. Lamm had gotten a clean death, arguably more so than he had deserved. Killing people for profit, in the name of god and country. Raijinn shook his head, wondering where it would end.

He reminded himself that it was the way of things that people with power used others. Fredo's mention of Zellara confirmed that. Lamm had used him, then Zellara had used him, and now Cressida would use him. Anger stirred within him, and he began to feel the urge to use magic on those around him. Not to kill them, just enough to show them that he was more, that he was strong, and capable of being a leader instead of a follower.

The power swelled within him, building greater and greater, and then quickly dissipated. Thousand Bones had done very little to Fredo's leg, and yet he his wound was gone. Raijinn might be able to kill, he might even be good at killing, but it was nothing compared to the power of life. A feeling swept over him that he was, not quite insignificant, but that there was so much more to learn, and that he had barely even begun.


Global Buffs:

Thousand Bones laughs, the bone ornaments that decorate his entire body jangling as he does so. "I must say that I appreciate your name. Not many have the audacity to name themselves for the ideals that they represent. They call me Thousand Bones because of the many bones of the creatures I have killed in honorable combat, and because I am a Way-Keeper for the Clan of the Skull. The Skoan-Quah clan spends much time honoring the dead, so you will find many references to such things among my people."

The night approaches, though, and with a polite nod, Thousand Bones excuses himself and his bodyguards. The children are led back into their special section of the barracks to rest, and the party is left alone again.

I'll bring us to tomorrow when I get a chance to post again.


Global Buffs:

Back in a more private area of the barracks, the five people who have made so much happen recently convene alone. Goffred puts the carved wooden case that contains Zellara's Harrow Deck on a table in the center, and it begins to glow with an ethereal light. Swirling out of it comes the beautiful Varisian figure of Zellara, the fortune-teller.

She steps onto the floor, an action whose accompanying sound is several seconds late. She doesn't notice.

"So, our new heroes, fresh from a campaign of making a difference, want to speak to me. I see how have a new companion. May I ask your name? I already know, of course. I've been around and have heard you introduce yourself to others, but I find that it's only polite to go through the pleasantries. I'm Zellara."


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

Burahl blinks at the apparition of Zellara, in awe of the magic behind it.
He looks at different angles to determine how this is possible, but gives up quickly.

"Excuse me for being baffled by this extraordinary and remarkable vision of you. I have heard a description, but never imagined something this... beautiful..."
He bows before her (and blushes in so far a ratfolk can blush).

"My name is Burahl Narnec, I own an alchemist's shop here in the city. It is a shame I didn't meet you in person before, I imagine the vision would be all the sweeter."


Global Buffs:

Zellara laughs, tiny ectoplasmic bubbles shedding from her with every shudder of her body.

"Oh, I am glad you see this form of me, and not that one that your friends saw. This one is somewhat less...savory. It is good to meet you, though, Burahl. You should know that I am the one who started these fine folk on their mission to save the city. Do you have any questions for me? Or you, Goffred?"


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

"Just one at the moment. You say you started this group on their mission. Are you also responsible for those cards and me finding Raijinn in the street?
I remember a feeling tugging at me to go out and into the street where I found him unconscious."


Global Buffs:

"I am, yes. My grief kept me in this state, and allowed me to reach out to people that shared a similar grief. I needed others to help me with my vengeance, and so I brought this group of people together. It would not have done if one of them had died before I could even meet with him."


This might be the most Raijinn has ever spoken.

At the confirmation of what he had suspected for some time, that Zellara is partly responsible for his being alive, Raijinn approaches her quietly, and speaks in a low voice. He's not actively keeping what he says from the others, but rather, finds it somewhat embarrassing to speak of. "I would like to apologise, dear lady, for my prior behaviour towards you."

Feeling the need, not to excuse his behaviour, but to explain himself, he continues. "The magic you've shown yourself capable, the magic that I'm learning myself to be capable of, it terrifies me. I know that my features are the result of corrupt ancestry, and Lamm had made mention of my parents both being powerful magicians. And, well..." He doesn't finish the thought, but merely glazes over it.

"My personal experience with it has been that it is a power that corrupts, but more than that, I'm afraid because I don't understand it. I burned a man's flesh earlier today, without even intending to, like it was simply natural." Raijinn shook his head. "Knowing how easily you pulled our strings, even after your death... that's a power beyond anything that I have seen before, and I weep knowing that there are others who would use it for wicked acts, even without meaning to."


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

"I did have a request, Zellara," says Fredo quietly, pulling out the silver dagger and setting it on the table. "I can't identify the dweomer on this weapon, and would appreciate if you took a look at it. But that can wait." He turns to Raijinn and steeples his fingers. His mouth, framed by his wispy beard, droops into a familiar frown, but the face that surrounds it is a new one. His brow is relaxed rather than furrowed in anger, contemplation or judgement, and his eyes are wide and soft. He remembers walking in on the tiefling attempting to work a levitation spell. His eyes speak an apology for his flippant attempts at instruction. Fredo had imagined Raijinn a dilettante. The truth, that he feared what he could do, is far more profound, but not quite sad. If only more young wizards were as circumspect, there would be far fewer magic-users who came to bad ends.

"You were very brave, to practice on your own as you did, feeling as you do" says Fredo slowly, not really sure he's saying the right thing. He falls back on one of the first things he was ever taught on the subject. "Magic is the art of wanting. It requires confidence in who you are and that what you want is the right thing for the world. Without that, it can overtake you, do things you might not think you intended, but really did."


Global Buffs:

Zellara had begun to levitate - absentmindedness, obviously - and she comes back down to put a hand on Raijinn's shoulder. "Oh, Raijinn. You need not be afraid of magic. Magic is a gift, a gift that can enhance your life and help you do great things. The extension of my life is unnatural, a product of my rage and desperation, and it isn't something that somebody should ever want."


Raijinn smiled at Fredo, but it wasn't a happy smile. "It isn't a matter of bravery. If I can't control it, there's no telling what could happen to me." He looks at Zellara as he says this. While no one in the room is certain of Raijinn's religious beliefs, it's clear from his look that a large part of him agrees with her, that her existence here is unnatural. Honour will make his interactions with her favourable, but her existence still troubles him on a deep level.

While he doesn't say anything directly in response to the second part of Fredo's statement, it's still on his mind. He nods in understanding, and his features look slightly less troubled. It's obvious that he wants to talk more about it, but doesn't necessarily consider this the place.

When we're leaving this scene, I'll stop Fredo and ask him if he can teach me some things. I didn't want to segue into that immediately in case Burahl has more that he wants to talk to Zellara about. Plus Fredo gave her the dagger to identify.


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

Just something I and probably everybody else is curious about. What is my fate and fortune when told by Zellara?

"You could see it like adding ingredients or components to your spells Raijinn. I don't have any magical skill to cast spells like Fredo does, however I too have to be careful when mixing my components. One way may lead to a restorative potion, the other to an explosive bomb. I learned that through many mistakes I might add."

"Adding in a strand of magic to get a different result is how I figure it works. Experience will overcome your nerves, as long as you keep a clear head, you'll know what you are doing and who or what you are doing it for."

Burahl nods to himself as he remembers his initial practises in Alchemy.
As he sees Zellara levitating he shoots up with another question.

"Zellara? I have been told you were a fortune-teller correct? I find myself now at a crossroads in my life, my original plans involved vengeance upon Lamm for what he did to my family. Now I'm not sure what my goal is. Do you have any advice for me?"


Global Buffs:

"Advice, hm? Well, allow me to consult the Harrow to see what fate awaits you."

Harrow Spread:
Positive Past 1d6 ⇒ 5 The Winged Serpent
Unclear Past 1d6 ⇒ 3 The Brass Dwarf
Negative Past 1d6 ⇒ 1 The Fiend

Positive Present 1d6 ⇒ 1 The Keep
Unclear Present 1d6 ⇒ 3 The Teamster
Negative Present 1d6 ⇒ 3 The Sickness

Positive Future 1d6 ⇒ 2 The Juggler
Unclear Future 1d6 ⇒ 3 The Mountain Man
Negative Future 1d6 ⇒ 3 The Waxworks

Suddenly, Harrow cards begin to spiral out of her hand and spin around her body, continuing to spin and flutter until every card has been produced from her hand, and slowly condensing into a deck in front of her. Sitting at the table, she sets the deck in front of her and draws nice cards, setting them in a square.

She flips over the leftmost three cards, revealing the Winged Serpent, Brass Dwarf, and Fiend cards.

"Here, the Winged Serpent, in its misaligned position, represents a time in your past when you were unable to act in a timely manner. Perhaps you failed to help a loved one in time, and it affected you deeply. The Brass Dwarf card seems to indicate that your peril that affected you then no longer does, as Lamm is dead and I know he plagued your past. The Fiend indicates that at some point in your past, you experienced calamity and lost much."

She flips over the center cards, representing the present, revealing the Keep, Teamster, and Sickness cards.

"Here, representing your present circumstances, perhaps the Keep represents this place, a place of support and power for those who wish to protect the city. The Teamster may very well represent myself, a driving external force, pressing you to whatever fate awaits you, or perhaps it represents whatever is driving the chaos in the city. And here, the Sickness, shows that a time of great sickness is soon to come."

She flips over the rightmost cards, those representing your future, revealing the Juggler, Mountain Man, and Waxworks cards.

"Here, the Juggler in its traditional position indicates that fate will be on your side for encounters yet to come. The Mountain Man shows perhaps a reinforcement of the fate shown by the Teamster card, extending into your future, an external physical power, but that would exclude me, as I...well, I don't really have physical power anymore." she chuckles before reading the final card.
"And the Waxworks represents helplessness and entropy. Perhaps death, decay, pain, and more horrible fates await us and those around us, and you can do very little to prevent it."


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

"The cards representing my past are correct. I had lost my sister Thissi to Lamm's drugs, it was the reason I became an alchemist. Alas although Lamm is gone now, he took much more from me than just my beloved sister."

Burahl looks upon the other cards and their meaning.
"Though are present is already rife with problems, it makes me uneasy to see that we might have even greater problems to deal with, especially if it is an enemy we cannot easily perceive like a disease."

He scratches his head after these remarks.
He turns to the rest of the group.
"What do you guys think? Any ideas or suggestions?"


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

"From what Zellara has said," says Fredo, scratching his beard as he looks at the cards, "the Teamster and Mountain Man would seem to refer to the force undermining the city and a powerful external ally respectively. Given our experience with Amprei, it might refer to Cheliax and Asmodeus, but that seems unlikely since his plan was stopped so easily. Politically, I'm tempted to accuse the Queen, but the Hellknights make a poor external ally. Their ties to Korvosa, though tenuous, are longstanding, and well predate Ileosa's coronation. House Arkona seems tied to every lowlife we've faced so far, but who is their external ally? Some faraway Vudran rajah or merchant prince? It doesn't make sense."

Fredo grunts, and stands up from the table. "All that can be said is that the meaning of the future spread will become clearer in time, when new information comes to light. We shall have to be alert for it."


Raijinn shook his head, but it didn't seem like he had been really listening. He still looked somewhat troubled, and as the others said their goodnights to Zellara and thanked her for the help, he realised that she had nearly left without him saying anything. He thanked her quietly and simply, with respect but still some trepidation.

As the others begin to leave, he stops them. "A moment, please, gentlemen. There is something that I wish to discuss."

He looked at Fredo and Burahl, realising that there was still very much about both of them that he didn't know. He thought about Burahl's sister, and how strong the sense of responsibility could be between two people.

"You must know that I would never wish for my burd- gift," he corrected himself, thinking of Zellara, "-to be the responsibility of others. But I have realised this day that I am in many ways still a child, and, well... I need to be more than that. We all do. Not tomorrow, but now."

"The city is in turmoil, and if the reading comes to pass, things may soon become even more hazardous. We cannot afford mistakes, especially those created as a matter of pride."

"I want to learn to control my power. I see now that it could be a valuable and even necessary asset. I no longer want to live pretending that it doesn't exist, or fearing what could happen. There are things happening now that I feel I must be prepared for, whatever the cost."

Raijinn frowned, realising he was rambling and dancing around his point because he was nervous and embarrassed. He decided that he didn't like feeling like that. "You are both talented in magic, in different ways, and, I... well... Would you teach me?"


Global Buffs:

Zellara bows her head in farewell, her work complete. Before vanishing, however, she touches the silver dagger Goffred's laid upon the table, using her identify ability on it. Unlike before, no information appears in Goffred's head. The dagger radiates no magical auras, although it detects as magical.

"I don't know what to tell you, Goffred. This one's a mystery to me." says Zellara, and then bows out, her illusory form collapsing into mist and then being sucked back into her deck, the deck rattling a little on the table while the mist flows inside.


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

Fredo nods once at Zellara's words as the fortune-teller vanishes into her deck. He looks briefly at the spread on the table, willing himself to remember it, then sweeps up the cards and puts them back with the rest. The silver-reinforced edges feel almost warm to the touch. He stows the deck in its customary pocket, then picks up the dagger. He looks at it distrustfully. Zellara's diagnosis doesn't make any sense. Instead of sheathing it back in his belt, he tucks it in the deepest part of his bag, below Lamm's ledgers and his other papers. Only then, after everything's put away, does he turn to Raijinn.

"Yes," he says simply, engaging only the tiefling's request. His justifications are important, but only to himself. For Fredo, they are interesting, and he must try to understand Raijinn's frame of mind if he is to be an effective teacher, but it is safer for now if he does not engage with them overtly. He is too accustomed to argument, and interrogating Raijinn's philosophizing now will do more harm than good. "Be aware, however, that what I have to teach is dwarfed by what you, or I, or anyone else embarking on these studies, must learn. For now, all I can teach you is a pattern of thought, a way of looking at what the world is and what it ought to be, and the vocabulary in which you can most precisely express your desires." Reaching back into his bag, Fredo pulls out the tome he studies every morning. He opens the first page. The writing inside is cramped and heavy, as though when Fredo inscribed his words and symbols onto the page, he wanted to make as deep an impression as possible.

"Let us begin."


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

Burahl thanks Zellara and bows as she returns to her deck of cards.

Burahl lays a hand on Raijinn side (as it is how far he could reach) and says with a comforting tone.
"But of course my friend, I will help you. Though I think Fredo will be more valuable to you in the practice of your own magic than I would, I will help you get your focus."

As Fredo opens up his spellbook, Burahl seems very interested in it as well. He sits on a tall chair at the table next to Fredo and rummages in his own bag, coming out with an old book with many pieces of paper sticking out. On the back is written a title of the book; 'Alchemy: Ingredients, preparation and usage or ‘How to heal ailments, transform, bombard and turn lead into gold.'

Among the papers at the back of the book there are pages describing several potions, written in handwriting which you would suspect is Burahl's. A description of potion colour, smell and taste, preparation time, duration and ingredients needed. As he flips to the back of his book with bland pages he goes through several spells in potion form Fredo and perhaps Raijinn might have heard of: Cure Light Wounds and Enlarge Person.

"I'll let you start Fredo. Could you please go through slowly, I might see things that interest me as well."


Global Buffs:

Go ahead and copy two spells from each other's spellbooks. As in, you may each add two spells to your book. This includes paying for spells none of you have. Also, can you put into your spellbooks the number of pages used?

The night goes on for a long time, with the three arcanists in a private seance and the other two members of the group off in their little corners, brooding.

From atop the walls of the Citadel, Thaven hears nothing but silence and the occasional cry of the flying hippogriff.

Eventually, though, the night ends. The arcanists put away their books, exhausted from their long night of studying, and commune, and teaching. Sleep overtakes everyone (except, technically, for Akiki, who drops into a trance) and everybody has a dreamless and restless night.

Very early in the morning, Thaven is shaken awake. His bleary eyes reveal the wide-eyed face of Cressida Kroft. "Soldier, wake your friends. I need you again."


HP 44/44; AC 17, T 14, FF 13; F+7, R+8, W+3; CMD 21; Perc +10, Init +4

Thaven bolts upright, nods to the Marshall and struggles out of bed, pulling on his clothes as he goes. He heads to the other heroes' rooms and wakes each one.


From Fredo I'll learn Expeditious Retreat and Infernal Healing. My nonexistent Spellbook is at close to 30 pages.

Raijinn wakes to Thaven, and rubs his eyes before quickly getting his gear together. It was difficult to regret getting so little sleep when he felt more at peace than he had in days. His mind was open to the possibilities that the world had to offer, and he left the room after Thaven, thinking about the things that Fredo had told him.


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

From Raijinn I'll learn floating disk and grease. Perhaps boring, but frostbite, shocking grasp, and true strike are much better for Magi than they are for Wizards, I have a better vanish in my spellbook in the form of invisibility and magic missile in the form of a wand, obscuring mist belongs to my barred school. Why floating disk over color spray? If I'd had floating disk prepared yesterday, I'd have been able to float away from the Eel's End.

My spellbook is forty pages long.

Fredo barely feels like he's slept at all, but he's not tired. He feels totally fresh, vigorous, stimulated. As the three had talked, the minutes he had taken of their conversation had begun to assume coherent spell-form. Rereading them in the morning, he sees that the most prominent themes are those Raijinn had spoken.

Prepared Spells:
2nd - invisibility, pyrotechnics (DC 17)
1stenlarge person, expeditious retreat, grease (DC 15), infernal healing, keen senses
0thdetect magic, disrupt undead, read magic, prestidigitation

Hearing Thaven's knock at his door, and a moment later seeing the armsman poke his head in, Fredo pushes his chair back from his desk, packs his book away, and stands stiffly. He remains dressed from the day before, but takes a moment to cleanse the fabric with magic before following Thaven. Cat stretches on the floor, yawning, her claws out, then rolls onto her feet and follows Fredo. Majenko, we have been summoned to Cressida's service, he thinks, on the off chance he can hear. Please feel free to join us.


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

Burahl learns Keen Senses from Fredo and True Strike from Raijinn's 'spelbook'. I'm not getting into the 'who's got the biggest spellbook' hehe.

Burahl wakes as Thaven wakes up someone else. His sleep troubled by the fact he saw an interesting spell/effect which he knew was too tricky to brew as of yet. It frustrated him that it was just out of his reach.
But the night went pretty smoothly, Raijinn was a good learner, Burahl's and Fredo's advice were apparently taken to heart. In the end Burahl got two new formulae out of it as well.

Prepared Extracts:
Enlarge Person
Shield
Cure Light Wounds
1 to mix for appropriate extracts

Burahl walks into the main room with a dazed look and sleepy eyes.
"What's the matter this early in the morning?"


Global Buffs:

Akiki still around? Raijinn prepared spells?

Marshall Kroft leads the five new heroes into a more private room as soon as they've all woken, dressed, and batted down their bedhead. Smoothing down her own bedhead, and refusing to sit (she is, instead, pacing), she begins. "Listen, I'm sure you've all noticed that the unrest has quieted down quite a lot over the past couple of days. This has been dearly bought progress, and we've treasured the quiet...now, I fear the quiet's at an end. Late last night, Queen Ileosa declared that she's found the King's killer, but I'm afraid something more is going on than just that. The woman named is a painted named Trinia Sabor, the woman who most recently painted the King's likeness. If she had really thought this person really did kill she king, she could have had the woman arrested quietly whenever, but the way that she announced it just seems to me like she wants the riots to come back. Certainly, with the mob and the Hellknights out on the streets, she doesn't stand a chance of making it to trial - they'll lynch her the second they find her. Even if she did kill the king, mob justice isn't right, and if she didn't, the real killer could use this distraction to throw us off the trail forever."

She looks at you somewhat expectantly before continuing. "This is where you come in. We need to be absolutely sure that she did this, before she's executed. We know where she lives - a flat in Midland at 42 Moon street - but soon, so will the mob. I can't send my guards into Midland, or it'd trigger a riot. I need you to get into Midland, find Trinia, and get out and back here, so we can interrogate her and be absolutely sure of her role in all this."

"Any questions? Oh, actually, before I forget, I have a little something for each of you."

For Thaven, she produces a fine darkwood bow inlaid with silver detail and a quiver full of arrows. The bow is a masterwork darkwood composite longbow (+2 STR) and there are five adamantine arrows, five cold iron arrows, and five silver arrows.

For Akiki, she produces a fine, long blade. It's a +1 silver rapier.

For Goffred, she produces a short, cylindrical metal rod with a wider end at the opposite side where you hold. It's a lesser metamagic rod of merciful spell.

For Burahl, she produces a pair of pure white leather gloves. They're healer's gloves.

For Raijinn, she produces a plain iron band. It's a ring of protection +1.


HP 44/44; AC 17, T 14, FF 13; F+7, R+8, W+3; CMD 21; Perc +10, Init +4

Thaven takes the bow with a reverence he rarely shows. He turns it over, tries the draw and smiles broadly. "It's beautiful. I... I can't thank you enough." He practices the draw, feeling its light weight and stroking the wood. Distractedly he nods when she asks about questions; it's like he's not even here any more.


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5
The Harrow GM wrote:
For Goffred, she produces a short, cylindrical metal rod with a wider end at the opposite side where you hold. It's a lesser metamagic rod of merciful spell.

Excellent! Now I just have to learn some damage spells :P

"The queen wants the people to riot?" says Fredo incredulously. His grip tightens around the rod, and he does his best to ignore Zellara's mental attempt to tell him what it does. He gets the sense that she's trying to make it up to him for being unable to solve the mystery of the silver dagger, but he needs his mind clear to think. "The only way that makes sense is if she wants to ferret out and crush any groups or individuals that have blundered their way into influence over the rioters. A provocation, a trap.

"That seems worth preventing," he says. He seems more at ease accepting this assignment than either the raid on All the World's Meat or the raid on the Eel's End. "Just to be clear, however, this is not the favor Thousand Bones wants from us?"


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

Wisdom Check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Int check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

This is just for roleplay reasons.

Burahl's eyes seem to shift for a few seconds as Cressida speaks of the Queen's declaration.
"I don't like those public displays out of the blue, it makes you feel something isn't right. I share your sentiment that there is more to it Marshall Kroft. Either she needs to find a murderer of the king to prevent a possible later rebellion, or she needs a scapegoat for someone very close to her."

Burahl seems lost in thought, but then waves his hand in a gesture to wave his thoughts away.
"I could be all wrong here as well, don't take this old rat's ranting that serious."
He smiles faintly at Cressida.

"We'll just have to see what this woman Trinia Sabor, her story is."
He looks at the pristine gloves Cressida has presented him and shakes hi head in disbelief.
"This is a most valuable gift Marshall, though I worry that soon these white gloves will be stained with the innocent blood they are to help."


Global Buffs:

To Goffred, she sighs and says "No, I'm afraid that'll have to wait. This is of tantamount importance, and Burahl's postulations are precisely what I'm afraid of, and it's why I want to catch this woman and make absolutely sure what's up here before anything happens."

"You are absolutely welcome. I've asked you for dangerous favors, and all that you've done is deliver, and I will still have more to ask of you in the future."


HP 44/44; AC 17, T 14, FF 13; F+7, R+8, W+3; CMD 21; Perc +10, Init +4

Thaven nods and salutes. "We'll bring this woman in, sir." He gathers his things and waits for the others outside the door.


My prepared spells will be as they usually are: L0 - Mage Hand, Open/Close, Ghost Sound. L1 - Shocking Grasp, Shield.

Raijinn bowed deeply upon receiving the ring, and was pleased to find that it fit perfectly over his ring finger. After listening to the conversation and thinking deeply for a second, he chimed in. "Perhaps it is a ruse to get the actual killer to slip up. If he thinks he is safe, there is a chance that he'll relax."

"Still," Raijinn frowned. "There must be a better way to achieve that same outcome than by condemning a potentially innocent girl to death."

"When do we leave?"


Global Buffs:

Raijinn with all of the telekinesis.\

"You leave as soon as you can, please. I've got work to do, but do hurry. Remember, 42 Moon Street, and avoid the main roads. The riots are largely in full swing again, except this time it's mobs looking for Trinia and the Hellknights trying to put them down again."

She leaves the barracks to head back to her office and administrate, leaving you all to prepare to leave. Akiki and Thaven belt themselves into their armor, strapping on old weapons and new, while the arcanists spend the time they have hurriedly studying their spellbooks for useful spells to get through the day. As soon as they can (which is an hour later) the heroes pack their bags and set out from the Citadel, crossing into the city proper.

She lives in The Shingles. Please describe how you traverse the city.


Uh. We utilise our collective knowledge of the back alleys and side streets to move stealthily through, avoiding large and main roads where there may be rioting / looting / mobs with torches and pitchforks?


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

Should we roll Knowledge (Local) for this? As I fully agree with Raijinn, we have lived in this city for quite a while, we ought to know a few backalley ways.


Especially given that many of us have somewhat less than reputable backgrounds.


HP 44/44; AC 17, T 14, FF 13; F+7, R+8, W+3; CMD 21; Perc +10, Init +4

Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8


Global Buffs:

Juss' checking that you knew to avoid the main streets there, thank you :D

Exiting the Citadel and traversing the city proves to be....well, it isn't the easiest trip for the heroes. Going into any crowded downtown area finds them face-to-face with an angry mob, scouring the streets for poor Trinia, who surely has a limited time left until she's found.

Instead of trying to force their way through the mobs, however, the heroes go through the less-inhabited back alleys, avoiding the mobs altogether. This route gets them all the way to the beginning of the Shingles, and in fact most of the streets within the Shingles themselves are essentially alleyways, so with a bit of clever stealth tactics, the group is able to easily avoid conflict on the way to Miss Sabor's home.

The aforementioned home is found fairly quickly, actually. She reputedly lives near the top floor of a makeshift apartment building. The front door is open, but most of the windows of the place are shuttered and closed. Most people don't want to actively watch their own city fall apart.


HP 44/44; AC 17, T 14, FF 13; F+7, R+8, W+3; CMD 21; Perc +10, Init +4

Thaven nods to the others. "I'll head 'round back and see if I can climb up in case she tries to run. Majenko, can you keep an aerial eye on things?"


Global Buffs:

The little red scaled cat leaps into the air, flapping up and around the building. 'Of course, Thaven. I'll keep an eye out for a sneaky woman painter.'

There's no back entrance, but climbing in the Shingles is much easier than climbing anywhere else, not only because the buildings are so much closer to one another, but because they're so ramshackle and don't always have such sheer walls.

Give me a climb check to begin climbing the wall. Also, the rest of you tell me what you're doing.


Male Chelaxian Void Wizard 5

"Before you go," says Fredo, running a piece of down across the little dragon's snout, "please accept some aid." The feather glows green for a moment and turns to ash between Fredo's fingers. He wipes his hand on his robes as Majenko clears the rooftops, the soot barely visible against the black and dark green. Cast keen senses on Majenko.

"Anyone who wants to follow Thaven should do so now. The rest of you, come with me to her front door. We only have a few minutes before Majenko's eyes return to normal."


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

"We shouldn't come barging in there acting like we want to capture her. We come here to ask her questions, right? And protect her of course, we might want to start with that."

Burahl follows Fredo to the front door.
"I guess you might want to do the talking again, I'm not the most diplomatic."


Send Akiki up the back with Thaven? It seems like what she would do.

Raijinn nods at Burahl's words and steps inside ahead of the other two, surveying the hallway before beginning the climb up the stairs.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17


Global Buffs:

The triplet of armed strangers moves into the old apartment building while the more dextrous of the group, the elf and the soldier, move around to the back, following Majenko's example, who alights on the top of a nearby building to watch the back of the building.

It doesn't take long climbing up the stairs before a door opens on the second landing, and an overweight, sweaty-looking human woman pops her head out. "What are ya doin' here? I'm sure ya don't live here." she asks, to no one in particular.

DM Stuff: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) = 7


Status:
HP: 38/38; AC: 17, T: 14, FF: 14; CMD: 15; Fort: 6, Ref: 7, Will: 3; Init +3; Perception +10
Ratfolk Alchemist 5

I take it the woman does not live in the house we are looking for. Rat's intuition.

Burahl takes a moment to take in what kind of woman she is and then replies.
"We are visiting an old friend of my family. Perhaps you know of Besbi? She is a ratfolk that lives a few blocks further up here in the Shingles, she's a close relative of mine. Well you know how it is, you have to keep social contacts warm and my sister said I should go visit, so well here I am. Alas in these turbulent times it is not as wise to travel alone, so we three friends travel together."

He waves his hand behind his back to indicate that the others move up ahead.
Burahl will continue the chitchat with the woman until she closes the door, trying to out-annoy her, he'll continue the rambling about everything and nothing, especially about information and gossip from the Shingles.

I do recall having said in the recruitment thread something about my elder sister living in the Shingles with her husband, though I don't think I have named her then.


Global Buffs:

Give me Bluff anyway, to conceal your true intentions. DC 22.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

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