It is a warm night in the dangerous city of Khorl, and the night is the time that many seek the safety of their homes. Not so a band of young companions, brought together by ties of friendship, and a morality that rises above the everyday corruption of the streets in the case of some.
Making your way back to your respective homes, you have been to a pub that is cheap, and what some might call characterful, and you now find yourselves in a section of town down by the docks that the watch avoid a night. Too dangerous to risk themselves.
But for our mismatched friends, it seems to present no danger, and they converse as they are wont to do...
"What I want to know, is why doesn't Litorian have limericks? That doesn't seem right. We're not a humourless people."
Tzuchaleny pauses for thought as she stalks protectively beside Keiva.
"Or are we? It's so hard to tell. I do know limericks don't work in Litorian though."
"It's not that Litorians are humorless, Tzu, I just think they prefer longer, more detailed stories. A good faen limerick can be an epic!" Keiva stifles a small cough. "I spent hours reading 'The Legend of Ruther Four-Claws' in the original Litorian (it was quite good, by the way), but a very similar faen story, 'The Ballad of Raeth Goldenhand,' is only one page long, AND he rescues no less than thirty-four damsels in distress! I think Litorians like details, and faen like the punchline. In a manner of speaking."
"Ruther Four-Claws was my hero! The way he had to find a special weakness to rescue each damsel was my favourite thing about it. The girl who had to be wrapped in nettles was the best, but the one who couldn't stand up was the funniest..."
Tzu looks hard at Keiva and adds accusingly, "You just coughed. You need to be inside. Or more wrapped up. I'm not looking after you properly."
Keiva waves away her friend's concern. "I'm always coughing. It's this moist sea air. I don't know how you stand the smell of it." Keiva pulls her furs more tightly around her neck. "Anyways, that makes my point. Ruther spends four stanzas wrapping that girl up in nettles. Raeth does the job, and moves on to damsel number 28, the one who can't se herself in a mirror. The one who is conspicuously absent from Ruther's tale, I might add. Raeth rescues thirty-four damsels, but Ruther only manages thirty-one. And of course, Raeth becomes a god at the end of his story, patron of damsels in distress everywhere."
"No, no, no, no, no.... the girl in the mirror isn't left out." Tzu waves her hands excitedly. "If you read it properly, you'll see she's part of the bit in the greengage orchard. It's very subtle. Just before he has to mend the Wounding Spike with the help of the ants. Hold still a second."
Ignoring Keiva's comments about the sea air, she re-wraps a scarf around her friend's neck. "This is why I worry. The air isn't harmful and you're still coughing."
Shekebbet walks silently for a time, his only sound the clacking of his staff on the irregularly maintained cobblestones, allowing his companions to discuss their literary hero before apparently surprising himself with a bit of extemporaneous verse.
"Lifting the maiden from the floor, ‘cause
the curse had left her with sore paws,
such is the tale of Ruther Four-Claws."
"You've read it too! That's wonderful."
"Umm, that's not exactly the sea air we're smelling right now...most of it should be collected by morning"
oh great, can't follow more than a word or two about poetry and now I've gone and babbled about poop! Some of us aren't getting to damsel one, never mind thirty-four...or was it thirty one...?
"That's just why I want Keiva to wrap up warm, Pendrick. She should be wearing a mask."
Tzu frets at the thought that her friend is breathing in undesirable air.
As the friends continue to discuss epic poetry and limericks, they hear some thumping and cries of pain from an alleyway nearby.
Tzu's eyes widen as she looks towards the sound.
"Someone's in trouble."
Shekebbet's lidless eyes turn to the source of the sound, hoping to penetrate the shadows with his keen nightvision as he lifts his staff from the ground and carries it more like a weapon than a walking implement.
"It's always something around here, isn't it?" he mutters rhetorically as he moves towards the sounds.
which Guardsmen are working down here? Grilig and Tommari I think. Good chance that's them 'protecting the innocent'
"Aww, I was really looking forward to hearing more rhymin' from you Soren".
Pendrick turns and moves with Shekebbet - his sword gone from scabbard to hands unconsciously.
"Let me know what you can see, my eyes aren't the best even in full daylight"
"Do we really need to get involved? Why put ourselves into danger over someone else's problems? Mind your own business, my grandmother used to say." Looking around, Keiva nervously fingers her ice axe.
The disturbance seems to be coming from a narrow alleyway up ahead and to your right.
"You don't have to Keiva. In fact you should not. But for those of us who live here, I think we must. Now, where would be a safe place for you to wait. I won't leave you in danger."
Tzu casts around for a secure area for her friend.
The conscientious litorian looks around but can't immediately identify anywhere that seems 'safe' per se in this area. There are other alleyways that Keiva could duck down and hide in.
"Pendrick, can you take a look? I can't leave Keiva."
Shekebbet rumbles softly in a Litorian purr, angling his head back so that the sound carries to Tzu,
He continues forward, with no visible sign of fear, although it would be hard to say what a sign of fear would look like on his rigid face...
Litorian
"I cannot allow my charge to go into danger. You know this Shekebbet. I will remain at her side."
"Let's all try to keep the chatter to a minimum, and ah, maybe to a language we speak?"
"But yeah, Tzu, Keiva, why don't you wait here, chances are this is just some old buddies of mine on 'City Business' anyway"
While he addresses the Faen and the Littoran Pendrick is subtly shaking his head while trying to catch Shekebbet's eye, pointing at the alley and then making a drawing motion across his own throat when he does.
He continues to move forward, trying to be silent, but not bothering to hide.
"This is ludicrous. First, I speak Litorian. And I'm not a child. I'm sneakier by far than any of you bigfeet. I'll go ahead and see what's happening. You stay here. Back in a flash!"
Without waiting for a response, Keiva stealthily runs ahead, darting up to the alley to get a look, whispering a prayer to Jarabba, god of strange scary noises in the night, that that's all it is.
Stealth (1d20+8=24), Spot (1d20+3=20)
Like a blast of silent lighting, Tzu charges after Keiva, all her senses alert.
"You come back here, you can't go without me!" she whispers irritably.
Sneak (1d20 3=23)
Spot (1d20 6=25)
Keiva dashes to the alleyway in time to see a burly man in scrappy leather armour beating up another man, dressed more like a clerk than a combatant.
As she peers down the alleyway, one final punch sends the victim to the ground, unconscious perhaps. The bigger man huffs. He does not appear to have noticed Tzu or Keiva yet. He carries a sword in a scabbard and shield slung over his back. He is obviously a trained warrior.
A wrought iron gate lies between the friends and the burly man.
Pendrick watches the Witch and her protector sneaky-speedwalk past him and grins.
"Scouts Out" he chuckles to himself, moving so he is 20' across from the opening to the alley.
Pendrick moves to catch up with the others.
Tzu hunkers down and speeds silently past Keiva, putting herself between her charge and possible danger.
The thug doesn't hear Tzu as she creeps up to the gate.
Sneaking is not Shekebbet's forte, and he bumbles forward with a distinct lack of stealth.
Init. (1d20+2=19) Hearing the heavy footfalls of her companions, Keiva thinks, Why do I even bother?
Keiva scurries up to the fence (Sneak 1d20+8=10) and draws her bow, pointing it unsteadily down the alley.
Tzu exchanges a glance with Keiva as Pendrick and Sekhebbet clatter their way into the alley and abandons her own plans for a stealthier approach.
Unfortunately for the heroically minded comrades, the less than stealthy approach of some of their number alerts the bravo. He turns and sneers at first and then looks a bit worried as he is outnumbered.
Keiva decides to let her friends make the first move. I have no idea what's going on here!
Keiva hangs back, waiting to see what the others do.
If the wrought-iron gate has a latch, Shekebbet will open it, to allow his companions to pass through. In any event, the advantage of surprise has been lost, "Back away, ruffian, before we drag you to the watch."
The mojh hustles up to the gate and stands next to Tzu. Shekebbet finds that the gate has a lock on it and cannot be so easily opened. The thug sneers as Shekebbet makes his threat.
"Hang on for a second while I hurdle this fence and give you a good stabbing" cries Pendrick, rushing forward Ceremoniously, jumping high against the fence and pulling himself over one-handed before continuing on his way towards the thug.
Oh for the love of...
Seeing Pendrick unable to get to the gate, Keiva runs forward, dodging between Tzu's and Shekebbet's legs, and wriggles her way between the bars of the gate. Escape Artist (if needed) 1d20+2=10
Thinking how much she hates this damp air and smelly city and dark nights and strange men in dirty alleys, she angrily launches a blast of the winter's cold that clutches her soul at the thug in the alley.
Damage 2d6=9
Keiva tries to squeeze between the bars but can't do it.
The thug looks on in something approaching bemusement as the friends cluster around the gate, trying different ways to bypass it. He looks less impressed as the chilly faen launches a bolt of cold at him. He winces in pain, as he fails to dodge it.
The thug takes out what appears to be a tiny glass ball with a flickering flame inside. He throws it at the assembled friends and it explodes with stunning force.
Reflex (1d20+2=18)
Keiva jumps to the side, plastering herself against the wall to avoid the fiery blast.