GM Rat Sass's Age of Worms

Game Master Governayle

Roll20 Link
Treasure Log
The Road So Far...
Map of Alhaster
Ascaria's Pub


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|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|
Mortimer wrote:
"Wait, is this a magic thing? Majesty Zeech wears a ring, and controls one of the beasts under the curtain, one of us gets the other ring and controls the other?!"

The Fool answers the question, deftly bouncing the unaccepted silver ring from hand to hand, hand to nose to hand, then heel to hand to heel and back to hand.

"Yes, that's how it works, you big brute. Won't do to bloody each other during this grand celebration!! You won't lay a hand on my Prince!! But if you need material for your spank bank, please accept the ring, and imagine you're throttling my Liege's throat through the as-yet-unrevealed avatar hiding beneath the silks!! That's assuming that your proxy bests his. Highly unlikely, of course, but you won't know until you try!!"

Eidi wrote:
"Lord Zeech, I have to acknowledge our colossus, Mortimer, gets more motivated when he is close enough to smell the sweat of the rival he is smacking."

Mahuudril groans quietly, while Zeech shrugs. "It's down to you two, then. I find both adversaries quite an entertaining prospect. Either Mortimer sheds his muscular frame to find himself physically equalled in the Arena, which must be off-putting, or Eidi finds himself once again youthful, and given the chance to live vicariously through another living creature. I have goosebumps."

The gathering looks back and forth, between giant and elder, wondering who will slip finger through silver.


Male, Gnome

Sense Motive Eri: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13

Even Ascaria gets what just happened. Though some of his shots are outside his range, he knows from the sounds of the audience which connected and which did not. Clearly Eri was holding back. Too bad. He'd have like to see Zeech lose. (Great post though!)

Ascaria is interested in the process of the pit. He's always felt that Sol and Mort were, very loosely speaking, his champions. The warriors in front. The ones who put themselves between poor Ascaria's delicate skin and the most dangerous stuff in the room.

He's not sure he'd want another, however temporarily. He'd be too inclined to heal it, which would probably be against the rules. He watches intently to see if Mortimer, or even Eidi, join in the battle... and if so, will they pull their punches?


Male Human Brawler (17), Thief (0)
Sinister Fool wrote:
The Fool answers the question.
Eidi wrote:
"Lord Zeech, I have to acknowledge our colossus, Mortimer, gets more motivated when he is close enough to smell the sweat of the rival he is smacking."

'Colossus'? 'Smacking'? Mortimer ponders.

Mahuudril wrote:
*groan*

Won't do to give in for her now... must play this out for as long as it takes...

"Why, well. While I don't have enough material for my 'spank bank', this seems maybe a little too placid for my particular ... idiom," Mortimer declares. I know I heard that word from somewhere... hope it means what I think it does...

He turns to the Outcasts. "Eidi, frankly, I think Solrisa has the best chance of winning this particular challenge for the Outcasts, but should she decline again, and you do not wish to partake of this sport, I will represent the Outcasts in this arena."


F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22
Eidi wrote:
"Lord Zeech, I have to acknowledge our colossus, Mortimer, gets more motivated when he is close enough to smell the sweat of the rival he is smacking."

Solrisa claps her hands, excited.

”Oh yes! Mort loves smelling sweat! YES YES! He’s a very good fighter,” Solrisa cheers on, Mort’s #1 fan. ”He’s very good at sweating and fighting.”

Solrisa, for her part, has no desire to ruin the illusion of her pretty dress (via glamored armor) by engaging in a fight at a party.


|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

Ready to proceed- I think we're waiting on Eidi to either accept or decline the ring. Should he decline, I'll assume Mortimer accepts.


Bald male Half-Elf elder

Eidi nods and understands "You both are sure better prepared for this fight. But its me who should endure the weight of the sacrifice" the elder smiles to Mortimer and then steps up and shouts for Zeech to listen "Ok, then, I hope I pose a good enough challenge so the Lord has time enough to impress his guests" he then opens his hand to accept the ring.


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|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

Zeech claps his hands together, silver ring glittering its place upon the his finger. "Splendid, elder Eidi! We shall be gladiators, you and I!" The Prince turns his face in Mortimer's general direction, though his eyes seem to look beyond the giant. "You're beginning to bore me, Mortimer. It's fortunate that my other guests find you entertaining, and you're lucky that the evening's still young." Zeech turns his unseeing face towards the floor of the Arena, and says no more. Needless to say, it stirs the side conversations of the other Attendees, to hear one of their own chided publicly.

The Sinister Fool, also known as the Ominous Fabler now, approaches Eidi, prompting the half-elf to extend his hand to accept the ring. Before Eidi knows what hit him, the Fool pops the ring into his mouth, pops it back into his free hand, and slips it onto the elder half-elf's ring finger, properly lubricated. "There you go, white chin!! Pre-moistened is pre-paired up for you." The Fool instinctively takes a step back, out of range of an immediate hand swat from Eidi, should he feel so inclined.

Eidi:

Please make a Fortitude Save, good half-elf.

As the magic of the ring begins to engage you, your eyes glaze over, and the world goes black, but only for a moment. You can feel metal beneath your 'feet?', and you can smell the dampness of the curtain surrounding you. As your new eyes adjust, you recognize the sensation of Darkvision. You can also hear the voices of the Attendees, though they sound as if they're positioned 10' above you on all sides after the two cages are lowered to the floor below. It's strangely disorienting.

You can still speak, and when you do, your voice will still emanate from your person, wearing the ring. You are, however, now in full control of a Cockatrice, which resides in one of the two cages below. Your champion is fitted with a special beak attachment, which looks like a barb, and your magical beast does a 1d4 damage, not 1d4-2. You'll also find that these creatures have a Save-or-Stoned Fortitude Save against their prey, not simply Dexterity Damage, as listed.

The ambient lights of the Arena intensify, allowing all those seated in the round to witness the next event of the Banquet. The arena floor is a perfect circle, roughly 40' in diameter, and it rests 10' below your seating around the ring.

The Fool gets to work. A series of ropes and pulleys come alive at the ugly gnome's insistence, and the two cages rise, then drop into the pit below. A third cage sits already on the floor at the south of the arena.

With a quick flick of his wrist, the middle cage snaps open, and a dozen feral cats bolt from their prison, only to find themselves in a slightly more expansive prison/enclosure. They begin to race around the arena floor, occasionally attempting to vault the smooth arena walls, to no avail. When they collide with each other, small fights break out among their number.

The Fool looks pleased with the activity. “If you can create more ornaments than the prince, and if you can survive his champion’s wrath, you’ll win a most fabulous prize indeed!”

Another simultaneous flick of both gnomy wrists, and the silks are whisked from their draping, finally exposing the opened cages.

Two strange-looking avians emerge, bodies of an emaciated rooster, the wings of a bat, and long, scaly tails. The beaks of both bird-like creatures are fitted with silver barbs.

Knowledge(Arcana) DC 13:

These little uglies are Cockatrices, Neutral small Magical Beasts.

1 question for every 5 points above 13.

The rooster on Eidi's side emerges tentatively, while the rooster on Zeech's begins to strut aggressively from its cage.

Initiative:

Eidi: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Zeech: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

"Have at it!!" The Prince practically squees.

One of the roosters steps lively, and snaps at one of the feral cats caught close by.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27 for 1d4 ⇒ 1 damage
Fortitude Save v DC 12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

As the silver barb pulls back, bloodying the cat, it takes no time at all for the cat to petrify!! A single, tiny stone statue now rests on the floor of the arena.

"Ooooo, that's one for me!! Keep up, ser Eidi, or you'll be left in my dust!!"

All of the Attendees lean over the polished railing to observe the spectacle, most of the faces interested. Kilraven is stoic, as usual, while Miszen wrinkles her nose, and allows others to obscure her vantage. The rest of the gathering rises to the entertainment. Mariss offers a friendly wager to Shag, while the hobgoblins pluck candied eggs from the serving girl's platter.

Mahuudril leans in close with Mortimer. "Don't let the Prince goad you into anything rash, handsome Mortimer. You should enjoy the fullness of the evening. I only ask that if you feel you need to leave, perhaps invite me to join you in a nightcap."

Toris looks expectantly at both Hoff and Vulras, who explain the nature of the magical beasts. The clarification doesn't appear to ease the colorful gnome's look of worry, especially when he learns that the things can fly.

Eidi is up! Roll20 Map has been updated.


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Bald male Half-Elf elder

Eidi's cockatrice stumbles with the cage when it is opened and looks confused around, while the elder quickly tries to get used to the new body. Observing the petrified cat, Eidi quickly determines what is required for the show, and his cockatrice waddles north.

For a moment it would seem the beast will fall off balance, but it somehow manages to reach one of the cats to the north and launch an attack.
Bite: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
P damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4

As the attack lands with much less style Eidi shouts back to Zeech "It seems the Lord kept the best cock for him!"


F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22

Solrisa claps and cheers for both the Prince and Eidi, taking no sides. She’s there as a guest for the spectacle and is enjoying it all immensely. She does feel sorry for the kitties, but as they are not suffering, she does not complain too much.


|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

Fortitude Save v DC 12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Eidi's rooster savages its targeted cat, but the bite only manages to maul it to death, rather than turn it to stone in death.

Zeech's rooster flicks its birdgaze in its opponent's direction, and the Prince on high chortles. "You're supposed to nick them, ser Eidi, not pop their heads off like that!! Here, let me show you!!"

The cats take the measure of the roosters, and are not pleased. The fur might fly, if it weren't so mangy. A rather muscular feral almost attains a full seven foot leap to freedom! Off the back of one of her lessers, no less. The ten foot pit is enough to frustrate the remaining ten cats, who scatter to various nooks around the cages. The yowling is able to overcome the hissing coming from the roosters.

The strutting rooster champion of the Prince charges the larger herd of cats, striking at the first one it encounters.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22 for 1d4 ⇒ 4 damage
Fortitude Save v DC 12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

The rooster manages to rip the cat's spine from its back, guaranteeing death, though the petrification sets it into a macabre bust of stone.

"There, you see? You have to give the vermin a little hope, so the magical bite has time to set in." Zeech's lifeless smile is disconcerting to those paying him attention, rather than the slaughter in the pit.

"Two!! to Zerooooo!! And such a fine prize waiting!! A shame if you lost it, old, old Eidi!!" The Ominous Fabler taunts the half-elf, while teetering over the railing, his mouth frothing a little spittle into the pit below.

Eidi is up! Roll20 Map has been updated. Side conversations are of course welcome :)


|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

Clarification- Solrisa slow-ninjaed me, but my post isn't meant to antagonize Solrisa's player for her recent post. Age of Worms' writers were inspired for this Banquet...


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Male, Gnome

Pleased he didn’t have to step forward, Ascaria starts to wonder at Zeech’s bird-love. He really has a thing for birds! He’s not so sure about the cats though. Shooting the birds was OK, he supposes, after all, he comes from a background where canaries were used in the mines to save miners lives. But the birds were just as dead, and being deep in a mine is no place for a bird, so if he’s being honest, there was some mistreatment there. To continue that honesty, he’s not sure he’s that bothered by it either. It is what it is.

Now Zeech is killing cats for their entertainment. He’s moving up the food chain. Ascaria takes a moment and wonders where it stops - if it stops. He rather imagines it doesn’t stop. He starts to envision the sorts of torture chambers that must exist in the deeper recesses of this ‘palace’. Zeech might not even consider it torture too, that’s the weird thing. Ascaria firmly believes Zeech sees people as being as disposable as these cats.

He looks across at Torris and Lady Miszen, near the edge of his vision, and tries to gauge their reactions - something he knows he's not good at.

Sense Motive Lady Miszen: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 = 16
Sense Motive Torris: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (20) - 1 = 19


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Bald male Half-Elf elder

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3
Eidi pushes his cocatrice forward but he is yet unfamiliar on how the magic works and make the poor beast entangle its feet and fall to the ground rolling through the sand.

"Ah well, I am only giving you some advantage Lord Zeech. Don't get too confident" with mental effort the elder forces the cocatrice to stand up once more.


|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

The Palace Servants make their rounds, platters of unusally-sized boiled eggs, cups of scrambled eggs mixed with fine meats, and cocktails consisting of raw egg and rum, and other liquid mixes.

Ascaria:

Lady Miszen is paying attention to the affair, though she splits her attention between the chaotic affair in the pit and the ring bearers. Her face is otherwise quite placid.

Toris is an open book. He is thoroughly fascinated by the strange roosters. His eyes flick back and forth between the two 'gladiators' of the pit, and only winces when the bird fails to follow through with its puppet master's desire to petrify the animal at its beak.

Eidi wrote:
"Ah well, I am only giving you some advantage Lord Zeech. Don't get too confident."

The Prince's eyeless gaze produces a little wrinkle of irritation at the bridge of his nose. "Do not patronize me, Eidi. I expect you to do your utmost to challenge me. There's no fun in it, if you don't fight back."

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 for 1d4 ⇒ 4 damage

Zeech's rooster attacks the retreating cat, a little more viciously than its previous attack, possibly reflecting the Prince's irritation with the half-elf's banter. The silver barb fails to find fur, which incenses Zeech as he slams his hand into the arm of his seat. The Prince's streak is broken...

Three cats incapacitated, nine to go... Eidi is up!


Bald male Half-Elf elder

Eidi smiles at the steps and makes the cocatrice to suddenly turn against the cat trying to escape to the north.
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4

"I shall be relieved then! Our host greatness has not paramount by preferring the fun possibility of losing over the kind patronizing of his guests" the elder shouts up like making sure everyone can listen.


|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

And like that, Eidi's eikon strikes true, and petrifies the cat! Zeech's bird cranes its leathery neck to take in the occurrence, then it swishes back into the hunt.

The Fabler ooo's and ahhh's, emboldened by the Prince's immobility, to cheer the competitor on. "Well struck, ser Eidi!! Now you just have to bleed another half dozen, and you'll triumph!!"

"We'll see about that." Zeech's words are succinct, as the rooster gets his attention, and the cats that he must see through the eyes of the strange creature.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 for 1d4 ⇒ 2 damage
Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

The cat in front of the Prince's champion staggers, but it does not transform into a feline bust shaped of stone.

"Ah, it appears my luck is turning..."

To expedite this, let's split the remaining eight. Eidi's up, but feel free to launch 4 attacks, as will Zeech, and we'll see what's still standing after the dust settles.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 for 1d4 ⇒ 3 damage
Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12 Dying, not stone

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25 for 1d4 ⇒ 2 damage
Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5 Stoned!

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 Miss!!

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 Miss!!

The energy in the room seems to mount, as the first phase of battle slowly works its way towards finishing...

The spectators are aware that once the cats are worked over, the two roosters will engage directly in a cock fight...


F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22

Solrisa claps and cheers for both Eidi and, less so, for the Prince, but keeps her enthusiasm going strong.

”Oh, I wonder who is going to win!”


Male, Gnome

Watching Zeech struggle at the end, getting only one in four, he wonders if Eidi can reverse his luck and pull out a win.

Then he wonders if he should. But we're already in this... might as well see it through to the end.

He waits, and watches quietly, to see the outcome.


Bald male Half-Elf elder

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Crit?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Eidi pushes the cockatrice once more, his senses mingling with the beast, but the first cat resists. The elder refocuses trying to bring a better challenge for the Lord, and so he catches one cat, and then another. The gore of that last one disgusts the half-elf who steps back, and thus, the cocatrice fails to land a blow on a passing one cat.

"It seems we are pretty close to each other Lord Zeech" Eidi smiles wide at the prospects of the cocatrice battle "Might it be you who is giving back some advantage now?"


Male Human Brawler (17), Thief (0)
Zeech wrote:
The Prince turns his face in Mortimer's general direction, though his eyes seem to look beyond the giant. "You're beginning to bore me, Mortimer. It's fortunate that my other guests find you entertaining, and you're lucky that the evening's still young."

Mortimer tries not to laugh out loud at the unseeing face of Zeech. The juxstaposition of the Prince's grave tone of voice next to his blank stare strikes Mortimer as clownishly amusing, and he is unable to accept Zeech's would-be threat at all seriously. It dawns on Mort that the magic of the ring probably gives Zeech the very vision of the beast that he is to control -- vision that is currently obscured by curtains.

Bright tears of suppressed laughter begin to form in the outside corner of Mort's eyes. He smiles rebelliously and waves without a care at Zeech as the Prince faces him.

He probably can't see anything right in front of his nose right now, but who cares even if he can?

Mahuudril wrote:
Mahuudril leans in close with Mortimer. "Don't let the Prince goad you into anything rash, handsome Mortimer. You should enjoy the fullness of the evening. I only ask that if you feel you need to leave, perhaps invite me to join you in a nightcap."

Mortimer eyes glint ever so slightly more at the corners as he turns his attention to her. 'Handsome' said no one ever ...

He nods to Lady Mahuudril and regaining some composure, he clears his throat softly. "I will definitely consider that, Lady Mahuudril. I must admit however, I am highly entertained by certain aspects of this spectacle thus far -- and, as the Prince himself has noted, it is yet quite early."

He turns his attention back to the gore that has become the arena, tries not to look too bored and hopes the ridiculous gladiator battle will end soon.

Come on, Eidi can't you make that oversized turkey go beserk already or something? ...


|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|
Eidi wrote:
"It seems we are pretty close to each other Lord Zeech. Might it be you who is giving back some advantage now?"

The Prince snorts. "In sport, as in life, never give advantage, ser Eidi. It's unbecoming for men of your station."

Mortimer wrote:
He smiles rebelliously and waves without a care at Zeech as the Prince faces him.

While Mortimer waves, Hemriss regards...

Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Two of the two cats struck by Eidi's guided rooster turn to stone, tying the competition! With three remaining yowling cats, the conclusion of the hunt is imminent.

GMPC Eidi flexes his bat-like wings, and launches himself upwards in an arc, preventing his next target from escaping the next attack.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24 for 1d4 ⇒ 3 damage
Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 Stoned!

Several of the Attendees hurrah for the elder half-elf, as the Outcast takes the lead over the Prince!

Zeech wastes no time in circling one of the two remaining cats, throwing a silvered beak out, hoping to even the score.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18 for 1d4 ⇒ 3 damage
Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15 Dying, not stoned!

The remaining cat makes itself small alongside one of the cages, and awaits its fate. Eidi's rooster sets off to finish the first round of this 'Lively Sport'.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18 for 1d4 ⇒ 3 damage
Fortitude Save v DC12: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 Stoned!

And within seconds, the first part of the Sport is over!!

"He's done it!! Master Eidi has bested our beloved Prince in a fair frisking of felines!! But wait!! The battle is not over!! Eidi has shown newfound mastery of puppetry, but can he go beak-to-beak with Zeech the Magnificent?!"

As if on cue, Zeech's beast makes a beeline against Eidi's, intent on drawing first blood...

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21 for 1d4 ⇒ 1 damage

While the cat grabs had provided some diversion for a good number of Attendees, this direct battle has drawn each and every other Guest to the railing, as speculation mounts as to who will come out on top. Shag and Montague place a friendly wager on the outcome, Montague quite audible in his odds in favor of the Prince. With such a wager, Shag accepts, placing his money on his hometown comrades.

Mortimer wrote:
"I will definitely consider that, Lady Mahuudril. I must admit however, I am highly entertained by certain aspects of this spectacle thus far -- and, as the Prince himself has noted, it is yet quite early."

Mahuudril smiles. "I too am highly entertained." The exotic elder woman waves to one of the Servants. "Will you be so kind as to fetch a glass of your finest philter? Make that two glasses." Mahuudril raises an inquisitive eyebrow at the giant, half-expecting Mortimer to decline, though her eyes set firmly to discourage such declination.

Eidi's out and about on travel, so I'll delay resolution on cock fight until he returns. Given my current stretch of luck, Zeech will fall to the mighty rolls of ser Eidi ;)

Eidi is up!

...

With the battle of the birds concluded, the Gathered are escorted from the bowels of the Palace, emerging on the back side of the Palace grounds. Toris does his level best to keep up with the sinister Fool, gesturing to his friends to do the same. Mariss gravitates back towards Solrisa's side, while Miszen manages to wend her way into Ascaria's orbit.

A long, narrow garden on the east side of the palace awaits you. Twilight has fallen, and the garden has been lit by numerous continual flames of varying colors, cast inside skulls hanging from delicate silver and golden chains.

Here, a curious game has been prepared. A mound of differently-colored human skulls has been arranged at one end of the garden, and the Fool takes pains to ensure the guests are arranged in a semicircle around this mound of skulls.

"And now, my beautiful friends, we come to the final game of the evening! I present to my wondrous Prince an unfortunate criminal
named Jack,”
announces the Ominous Fabler, as he hands the Prince a human skull that has been painted black. “And to the rest of you, I present these delicate treasures! Welcome to Bowling the Devious Heads!!”

The Fabler indicates the stack of differently-colored skulls. “The Prince shall throw Jack to the far end of the garden, and the rest of you shall toss a chap of your own. The thrower who comes the closest to Jack shall be declared the winner!”

Zeech lofts Jack through the air, the black skull landing a good 50 feet away from the semi-circle. "That should do. Alright, everyone. Have at it!!"

As the sport begins, Servants pass around gingerbread men without heads.

As this game involves friendly competition among only the Attendees, every one selects a skull, and gives a wholehearted toss!

GM Rolls:

12d20 ⇒ (3, 6, 9, 11, 15, 5, 3, 4, 5, 3, 11, 12) = 87

Toris lobs his blue skull far too high, his attempt falling far short of the black mark. Miszen tries to roll her purple skull, but the grass, and the irregularity of the skull defeats her aim. With the small folk demonstrating what not to do, the rest of the field do their level best to bocce.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Mariss lands his red skull the closest. Insult to injury, he chips V'russ's yellow skull to his advantage, knocking the hobgoblin's marker further away.

The half-orc slips a thumb behind his belt, assessing his aim, and finding it adequate. The rest of the Attendees turn their attention towards the Outcasts, waiting to see how they'll fare.

Those who choose to toss, please make a Ranged Attack, with a -14 penalty for the distance. Highest number shall compete with Mariss's toss!


Male, Gnome

As Lady Miszen rejoins his side, Ascaria offers his arm. ”Ahh, Lady Miszen, welcome back. Quite a contest ‘ay? A bit bloodier then my taste, but then to each their own.”

As the next game presents itself, Ascaria is pleased it’s at least less bloody. Not wanting to be found wanting by the good lady, he’ll try himself to improve the odds of the short-folk. ”Let’s see what can be done, shall we?”

Squinting into the distance, but able to see the black skull clearly enough, he tosses his skull as far as he can…
Ranged Attack: 1d20 + 12 - 13 ⇒ (7) + 12 - 13 = 6 (heroes feast, range)

As it thumps far short of it’s goal, he laughs heartily, ”Seems like the short-folk have come up short today! You lot will have to show ‘em how it’s done!” he calls out to the rest of the party.


F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22

”Oh Eidi! You won! YOU WON!!” Solrisa cheers and claps, dancing in her faux-dress, metal clanking as she bounces. ”Get him, Eidi! You too Prince! You get him too!” Solrisa cheers and claps but does not take sides.

She watches intently for what happens next, barely noticing Mariss.


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Male Human Brawler (17), Thief (0)
Mahuudril wrote:
"Will you be so kind as to fetch a glass of your finest philter? Make that two glasses."Mahuudril raises an inquisitive eyebrow at the giant, half-expecting Mortimer to decline, though her eyes set firmly to discourage such declination.

Mortimer raises two surprised (one compromised) eyebrow at the exotic woman, and smiles.

Damnit. Need to delay a little while longer...

He glances at Hoff, the dwarf.

"My dear Elegance," he begins, bowing. "It is yet a bit too early for a 'night cap', and I promised the fair dwarf there an arm wrestle session. I must keep myself 'pure' for the event. But after that..." he teases playfully winking, taking a skull and tossing it 'carelessly' over his left shoulder with his left hand toward Jack.

Swift for point blank shot, far shot and distance thrower.

Throw: 1d20 + 15 + 5 - 5 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 15 + 5 - 5 + 1 = 26 Hero's feast


Bald male Half-Elf elder

Eidi is surprised by the sudden attack, but he tries to turn it back on Zeech.
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4

-------------------------

The elder remains observant absentmindedly at the last game, still recovering of the disgusting experience of the feathered fight with Zeech.


|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

A savage bite snaps mid-air, as Eidi's rooster misses Zeech's. The Prince even makes a little noise of surprise, as the rooster's awareness of the snap is quite loud, down there on the Arena floor.

"Precision, master Eidi, or the strength is for nothing."

The strange bird under Zeech's control sidesteps, before striking out with its beak.

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 for 1d4 ⇒ 1 damage

Another little nip, and Eidi's representative fowl bleeds a little more.

The battle of the birds continues, neither creature given pause to consider its role in the evening's amusement.

Zeech's Savagery:

Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 for 1d4 ⇒ 3 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21 for 1d4 ⇒ 1 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27 for 1d4 ⇒ 2 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18 for 1d4 ⇒ 3 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28 for 1d4 ⇒ 1 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12 for 1d4 ⇒ 1 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 for 1d4 ⇒ 2 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19 for 1d4 ⇒ 2 damage
Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 for 1d4 ⇒ 4 damage

Let's say a Race to 20, Eidi. Cockatrices have 27hp, but I'm sure the cats fought back, and both bird-lizards ended up with a round 20hp before they squared off with each other. Zeech will level 9 attacks at you to Stagger you, and the battle will be called. Do your worst! ;)

...

Mortimer's toss is effortless in its arc! Fuchsia taps red, and Mariss is relegated to second place.

The audience waits to see if Solrisa, Eidi, and/or Eri throws a bone to best their comrade giant. The hobgoblins are already making noises of disinterest, but the rest of the group is certainly interested to see the last game of the evening play out...


Male, Gnome

Ascaria would be amazed at Mort's toss, but he knows the skill of their giant. Instead he applauds his throw, "Well done!"

He too looks toward Solrisa or the others to join in. "C'mon, this one's a cinch! Can't do worse than me, and I survived the humiliation!" he cries out laughing.


Male Human Fighter (archer) / Sorcerer (stormborn) / Eldritch Knight 1/7/7

Eri hefts the skull testing its weight. He takes a sip and a half of whatever intoxicant is at hand and lobs the skull.

skull toss: 1d20 + 14 - 14 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 14 - 14 + 1 = 12 range, Heroes’ Feast

"Ah, not enough juice." Eri takes a more ample draught and wipes his lips on his sleeve. "Nice shot Mort!"


F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22

Solrisa seems confused that she is supposed to throw as well, and after some prompting, she does. She takes a skull in one of her meaty manhands and tosses it with a big smile.

1d20 + 17 + 1 - 14 ⇒ (6) + 17 + 1 - 14 = 10 to hit

As her shot goes wide, short, and probably all sorts of errant, she smiles and covers her mouth and smiles more.

"Oops! Not as good at Mortie-poo!"


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Bald male Half-Elf elder

Eidi fights for the life of his warrior. Always behind Zeech, the cocatrice flaps its wings wildly when the other one jumps over, and stabs its beak one after another. The combat seems even, once Eidi's cock bites the other's eye and it seems its done, but it again suffers when the other takes feather after feather leaving a bleeding wound.

1 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1
2 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3
3 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2
4 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4
5 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2
6 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1
7 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2
Crit?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4
8 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3
9 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1
10 Bite Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4 22

Ultimately Eidi rises his hand and retreats the cocatrice unwilling for the beast to die "That's it, I surrender. It is clear yours is going to kill mine. Well played" the elder does not seem too much disturbed by the blood, but he seems curious someone has bested him at magical control.

-------------------

Eidi politely rejects to toss a bone "Excuse me, I am still recovering from the savage fight. My bones are not used to all this back and forth"


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|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

The Prince does go so far as to stagger Eidi's champion, but foregoes an easy execution, preserving both of the creatures' lives. "I call that a draw, my Ominous Fabler. I can not dispute master Eidi's quick maneuvering during the baiting. Master Eidi is a master baiter." Zeech's face is a placid lake, which rests stoically while the Fool breaks into deep cackles. The cackling seems contagious in some pockets of the Attendees, as the hobgoblins seem to mimic the Fool in response to the Prince's humor, though it is obvious they missed exactly what set the Fool off.

Others do their best to acknowledge the Prince's play on words, while returning to their various side conversations. This doesn't discourage the Prince in the least, who calls for Eidi to be rewarded.

"My able Fool, please see that Eidi receives the prize. He stepped up nicely to entertain us all."

The Fool exits the Arena, returning a pregnant moment later, carrying a sizeable golden egg. "Pure gold!! You can feel it!!" The ugly little man thrusts the egg into Eidi's arms. 40 pounds, or a little heavier than 18 kilograms. Given that fifty gold pieces weighs a pound, you can do the math ;)

...

Mortimer is declared the victor in the Bowling of Devious Heads, and for his great skill, he is rewarded in kind, when the Ominous Fabler produces a silver necklace, with a silver skull. In the eye sockets, two expertly-cut rubies for eyes. 2500gp in value

Several ooo's and ahhh's compliment the giant's new accessory, while others snort in obvious coveting. Mahuudril approaches Mortimer, giving the necklace a good look of appraisal. "Something like that should be worn for all to see. Perhaps you'd like to remove your shirt, and let set the silver against your sun-kissed skin?"

...

After the Bowling of the Devious Heads comes to a close, the peal of an unseen gong sounds the call for dinner—the feast is ready! The Fabler leads the guests back into the palace and thence to the Great Banqueting Hall. The Hall shares the same floor as the Balcony of Expectorance.

Roll20 Map has been updated.

A massive chamber rises through the heart of Zeech’s Palace. A tremendous long table of polished mahogany dominates the room, the walls of which are decked with portraits and landscapes of great quality. A large number of these feature Zeech himself, although a silver-haired, pale, remarkably beautiful woman, dominates one prominently-placed portrait near Zeech’s place at the table. A vast stained glass dome depicting what appear to be angels at play arches gracefully above, its perimeter decorated by a ring of severed heads mounted on iron spikes some twenty feet above the polished marble floor.

Perception DC 20:

The “angels” in the window are, in fact, erinyes devils, and their “play” is anything but something one would normally associate with angels.

The Fool bids you take your seats. The Prince asks only that Eidi sit at his left hand side. "Come master Eidi, you are a worthy conversationalist. I would hear more from you over dinner."

"More from you, yes, yes!! The Prince sees you for who you are, and we will hear you regale mighty Zeech with untold and unrestrained stories!!"

The voices are new, as they provide Zeech a choir of supportive words. The mounted heads are no mere mortal decapitates—they have been animated and given the power to speak. All twenty heads cheer and encourage everything Zeech says in strange and sonorous voices powered by magic.

Each place at the table bears a name on a card, and a staggering number of pieces of cutlery, including 10 different spoons.

I'll need each of you to make a Diplomacy Check. Those with 5 ranks of Knowledge(Nobility) need not make the roll.

One seat remains glaringly vacant- the seat directly opposite the Prince's.


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F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22

Solrisa looks quite worried as it is revealed that the feast hasn’t even started yet and she’s been stuffing herself on cheese and pastries at every opportunity. But, because she is a trooper and willing to put the best face on things, she smiles and tries to be eager about a second stuffing.

She bonks from table placard to placard like a hummingbird bouncing from flower to flower. She seeks the nectar of her proper place to sit.

When she does finally find her place to sit, she laughs as much as with any game outside. She had a great time trying to find her food. She stares at the various cutleries, deciding slowly which one to take while making small talk with people around her.

”Oh! These are such good spoonies!!”
”That cheese outside? Did you try any of the cheese?”
”Such lovely weather for tonight. We got very lucky.”
”I do love ham, don’t you?”

1d20 + 13 ⇒ (19) + 13 = 32 Diplomacy
1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 21 Diplomacy
1d20 + 13 ⇒ (4) + 13 = 17 Diplomacy
1d20 + 13 ⇒ (14) + 13 = 27 Diplomacy
1d20 + 13 ⇒ (5) + 13 = 18 Diplomacy


Bald male Half-Elf elder

Eidi smiles back at Zeech. If he got the folded meaning of the words its clear the elder was able to feign not caring about it. The half-elf collapses under the weight of the prize "Ouch! I am bewildered at the ominous generosity of our Prince host" he quickly glances at Mortimer, his eyes claiming for help.

--------------------------------

Perception: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (19) + 20 = 39
Eidi takes note at the erinyes statues, and points them to any of the Outcasts that close up.

The half-elf takes sit with a smile "Nice choir of chanting heads you have... Those could be of use for my Project. Might I know who was the artist...?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (6) + 14 = 20

The elder seems a bit annoyed he is far from his friends. He makes sure no one takes his staff away from him. Letting it lean over his legs from the empty side of his chair.


Male, Gnome

Ascaria carefully examines the dizzying array of cutlery, to get his mind off the speaking severed heads. Not what he would have over his dining hall that’s for sure.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 28 ⇒ (11) + 28 = 39

He wishes he was further down the table, nearer Toris and Lady Miszen. That’s where the fun is going to be. Not here, trapped too close to Zeech to comment under one’s breath without being overheard.

He behaves himself and waits for the next course to be served. He wonders when their guest of honor will arrive. This whole night will be for naught if they don’t get a chance to talk to her at some point.


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Male Human Brawler (17), Thief (0)

Mortimer spies the halfimp waddling with an egg -- nearly as big as the Fool himself --heading towards Eidi. As the Fool prepares to thrust the egg into Eidi's arms, Mortimer rushes to intercept it.

"Here, let me carry that for you, Sir Eidi," Mortimer says, scooping the egg out of the thrusting arms of the Fool and away from Eidi. He swiftly spins the enormous egg around the back of his right hand and up toward his fingers where he balances it -- egg still spinning -- on the tip of his index finger. His grey eyes glint gleefully in the golden reflection of the gifted egg. "To be sure, it is solid gold." He tries to tuck it into his shirt pocket, but it proves too large.

He eyes the Fool's foolish tricorn hat greedily. Maybe I could use that as an egg bag... He shakes his head. Nah. It's probably rife with parasites. Instead of swiping the hat off of the Fool's head, he pulls a length of hemp out of his bag that he has fashioned into a largish sling and uses that instead, slipping his arms through the over-sized handles to carry it on his back.

When presented with the silver chain and skull with ruby eyes pendant, he tries not to look too skeptical or surprised. "Oh! A prize!" he exclaims, defeating the attempt at either. As he gazes at it dangling from his meaty fist, a single eyebrow gradually forms a skeptical arch.

Mahuudril wrote:
"Something like that should be worn for all to see. Perhaps you'd like to remove your shirt, and let set the silver against your sun-kissed skin?"

His expression not changing terrifically much, and still facing the pendant, his eyes drift from the bauble to Mahuudril, then down to his chest.

Since when do I look like I spend any time on the Enhanced Daylight Bed(™)?

He laughs, lowering the pendant and slipping it over his head. "This'll have to do, for now! I wouldn't want to blind anyone by removing my shirt -- especially not you, my Radiance," Or lack there of... he adds more seriously, turning to Maduudril and bowing to conceal his doubt in his choice of words and therefore, his mad flirting skills.

Upon entering the dining facility, Mortimer glances up at the stained glass dome.

Perception: 10 + 24 = 34

He winces, but says nothing. As his eyes continue to adjust to the room lighting, his gaze eventually falls upon the portrait near Zeech's seat. Unable to tear his eyes off of the silver-haired, pale, remarkably beautiful woman, he absently starts slowly walking toward the portrait as if in a trance.

She's as pale as I am... who is she?

He stumbles on a bump in the carpet, and this knocks him out of his reverie. He hurriedly and embarrassedly looks for his place at the table.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

He aggressively yet expressionlessly tries to ignore the talking severed heads twenty feet above him.


Male Human Fighter (archer) / Sorcerer (stormborn) / Eldritch Knight 1/7/7

Eri watches the fool hand out the ludicrous bobbles and remains grim-faced. I wonder what magics those might have. I don't trust anything in here.

He finds his seat and examines all the spoons recalling all the various ways they can be used. This nonsense. Do we really need an oyster fork AND a caviar spoon? At least there's wine. Kn. Nobility +6

He reaches for the wine and examines the room.

perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23


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|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|
Mortimer wrote:
As the Fool prepares to thrust the egg into Eidi's arms, Mortimer rushes to intercept it.

As the giant bolts towards the gnome, the Ominous Fabler's eyes enlarge. His nostrils flare in righteous indignation, and his tongue licks at dried lips, preparing to unleash an unholy litany of courtly violation, but it is mere ruse. The gnome allows the giant to take from his quivering arms the dense metal egg. "Didn't realize the mutt-man had a man-servant." The Fool gives a squint eye to Mortimer, before shuffling off.

...

The Prince, of course, sits first. Hemriss is next, followed by Eidi. Zeech's Right Hand, then his Left. When all three have taken their seats, the rest of the Banquet Table fall into their respective chairs, like autumn leaves of various colors.

Eidi wrote:
"Nice choir of chanting heads you have... Those could be of use for my Project. Might I know who was the artist...?"

Zeech leans towards the elder half-elf. "You have a project, do you? What kind of project? Are you warding off intruders by dangling skulls about your residence? Do you practice necromancy? Intrigue me, and perhaps I might lend you a name..."

"Yes!! Illuminate the Blessed Son of Asmodeus!! He is generous, and rewards those who please him!!" The Decapitated rain down sing-song sayings, timed to begin perfectly when the Prince finishes, and quiet when the Prince prepares to speak again with an inhalation.

...

The Great Hall begins to fill with the sound of many voices- those at the table, and those chorusing the Prince from above.

Hemriss turns to engage the more handsome gnome.

"You're awfully quiet, master Ascaria. Does something concern you? How are you finding your stay in Alhaster? Look at you- Champion of the Gauntlet, sitting at the Prince's Table. You're a healer, aren't you? Would you consider your role in the Gauntlet the reason for your success?"

Mahuudril continues to address Mortimer, and the conversation entices the attention of Captain Vulras, as well.

"Come, Mortimer. Regale me and the Captain with one of your greatest fights. I would like to live vicariously through those muscles of yours. You of course don't have to answer a personal question, but are you betrothed? Do you have a certain someone who brings your blood to attention, ready for further orders? Ah, youth."

Captain Vulras actually blushes. "Well, I'd certainly be interested in your fights."

Toris tippy taps his small hands on the table, looking to and fro for the hooks of conversation, before settling on Lady Miszen and Eri.

"Hey, you can tell me- did you miss that last corollax on purpose? You looked like you were in your element with that crossbow."

Lady Miszen shushes Toris's boldness. "Manners, Toris. Your curiosity should remain tucked behind that glorious moustache of yours."

The colorful gnome places a hand on his chest. "I meant no offense. It just felt different from the cock fight. I was complimenting Eri's skill, is all."

The hobgoblins lean back in their chairs, speaking to each other, while they observe the conversations beginning to bubble between the other Attendees. B'kruss seems interested in Mortimer, while V'russ watches Eri.

Solrisa wrote:
"Oh! These are such good spoonies!! That cheese outside? Did you try any of the cheese? Such lovely weather for tonight. We got very lucky. I do love ham, don’t you?”

Mariss looks upon Solrisa. "You have an adorable way of speaking when you get excited. I wonder what kind of noises you make when you're aroused. Do you think we'll find out tonight? You don't have to answer me right away, but know that I'm staying at the Deluxury all week. You could do much worse than a night in my chambers..."

Kilraven enjoys his pocket at the table, which requires nothing too demanding of his own conversational skills. The Lord raises an eyebrow as he glances into the chats taking place across the table, but demonstrates a difficulty in hearing, when Toris tries to engage him. He is less lucky in deferring dialogue with Montague, so finds himself nodding at regular intervals when the Professor speaks on something with lively hand gestures.

Shag finds himself in the company of the dwarf Hoff, and the two seem to be ample entertainers, as the drinks continue to flow, and the table tidbits are cycled for small amuse bouches. Shag does his best to avoid the up-and-over sloshes of the dwarf's beer, covering his lap with a fine napkin.

...

A Servant approaches the head of the Table. The Fool stands up from his squat behind the Prince to intercept the approach. The Servant lends words to the gnome, then departs. The Fool then moves to Zeech's side, and whispers a couple of words, which brings a smile to the Prince's face.

Prince Zeech stands, and raises his hand, calling for your attention, and your silence. "The time has come, you lucky people. Please rise from your seats." As the Prince gestures towards the far end of the room, it's as if the painting by Zeech's side of the table has come to life.

The woman is dazzlingly beautiful, with alabaster skin and long silver hair set back with a tiara of black diamonds. Everyone in the rooms feels her gaze settling upon them. She greets Zeech with a nod but says nothing, and gracefully takes her seat at the opposite end of the table from the Prince. All but the Prince takes their seats.

"Welcome Lady Lashonna! You honor us with your presence this, and every evening you call Alhaster your home. I hope you find the Banquet to your liking." Zeech raises a glass to the Lady, prompting all at the Table to do likewise.

Silence falls upon the banquet hall, as the Prince composes himself. “My dear friends,“ he begins, and as he does, the decapitated heads above echo the word “friends” in a ghoulish tone. “I bid you enjoy this feast, eat and drink your fill in my humble abode.”

He claps his hands once. An instant later the great doors to the Hall swing open and a trio of manticores enter to the ghoulish hoorahs of the heads. Yet these are no wild monsters—the fire is gone from their eyes, and their wings have been cruelly severed. Even the once ferocious barbs of their long tails have been surgically removed. Each manticore carries great platters on its back, and a host of distorted servants trail behind them, eager to begin serving food.

Each guest is given a small covered silver goblet.

Sense Motive DC 20:

You notice flickers of disgust and trepidation flashing on the faces of several of the other guests. What has been presented is not new to them.

When all have been served, the Fabler stands to address the Hall. He speaks with a reverence previously not demonstrated.

"One of the founders of Alhaster was a desperate pilgrim who washed up on the harbor shore. He had not eaten for many weeks, and he fell upon the moors to die. As he did, he saw a worm emerge from the ground. In that moment, he realized the worm was a gift from the gods that he should live—and so he devoured it. In Redhand, it has always been the tradition to start a feast with such a celebration of thanks." The Fabler bids the Attendees now do the same.

Inside the silver goblet writhes a fat, greasy worm, its glistening flesh a nasty shade of green.

Knowledge(Nature) DC 15:

The worm is a relatively harmless green scrubgrub. While similar in appearance, it is not a Kyuss worm.

The clinking of silver goblet lids begins to sound, as the guests at the Table begin to partake of this proud Alhaster tradition.


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Male, Gnome
Hemriss wrote:
Hemriss turns to engage the more handsome gnome. ”You're awfully quiet, master Ascaria. Does something concern you? How are you finding your stay in Alhaster? Look at you- Champion of the Gauntlet, sitting at the Prince's Table. You're a healer, aren't you? Would you consider your role in the Gauntlet the reason for your success?”

”Oh, my apologies Hemriss, but the mocking skulls have me a little unsettled. I’m fine really,” he adds with a grin, masking his discomfort.

Bluff, take10: 10 + 9 = 19

”Aye, I’m a healer, that’s well known. I’ve been a healer as far back as I can remember, bringing light and comfort to the men and women in the mines. Some of them just kids really, digging in the tight spaces of the earth. It’s where I got my nickname, Canary.” he grins and babbles a little while about the old mining days before coming around again to her last question.

”Oh, I don’t think I’m any more responsible for our win than any other on the team. We each bring our own strengths, mine just happens to be healing. An uncommon focus for kids today, but I do all-right.”

Later…

He eyes the worms uncomfortably. He’d eaten worse, sure, but he doesn’t trust his host.
Knowledge Nature, take10: 10 + 5 = 15 vs DC 15

He nods to the party as if to say it's OK and he watches the other guests eat their worms to see how it's done. Then he does his best to join them. After all, local customs are important, and this seems beyond Zeech.


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Bald male Half-Elf elder

"The Prince has a good eye. I have indeed researched the energies of life and death" Eidi coughs abruptly "My age is taking me to a conclusion and so I am planning to build up my own mausoleum. If I am right, this is a good place to get ideas about how to achieve it"

--------------------

Sense motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
When Lashonna enters the room Eidi stands up and reflectively touches his head as if fixing imaginary hair and tosses his tunic making it straight while holding a sheepishly smile and staring at the elven woman. Sure, he thinks it is a shame she is too far away to engage into conversation.

K. nature: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (7) + 13 = 20
Eidi looks at the worm and smiles. This is not the first time for him to eat a worm, and he takes this one in particular as a more pleasing one. The elder takes the worm without hesitation and places it on his mouth. As he chews and feels the green fluids of the worm escape into his mouth Eidi smiles "It has a fresh taste to mint this one, isn't it?"

After the worm conversation starts to fade the half-elf looks at Lashonna then comments to Hemriss and Zeech as if willing confirmation "I have heard she defeated a cabal of heretics some years ago in this city..."


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F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22
Mariss wrote:
"You have an adorable way of speaking when you get excited."

Solrisa smiles, embarrassed that her actions have confused Mariss. "Oh no, Mr. Mariss," Solrisa demurs. "I just like cheese. And ham. No, I'm not excited, the *only* thing that excited about is *The* Dragon, but I do like cheese..." Solrisa's eyes scan the table for easily accessible cheese or ham. "Mr. Mariss, are you in search of someone who will get you excited? I remember the women who used to walk the gangplank down by the docks in Kaer Maga, they were painted so prettily! I wish I could have walked among them, but Mum said that I had been promised to *The* Dragon so no others could have me. But you? You could have any of those painted women. Yes you could! If you want, I will take you to those women who like to get very excited, Yes. I. Will." Solrisa stabs a pad of butter with her butter knife, eating it as a substitute for cheese. "Mr. Mariss, I will find many friends for you to share excitement with. I will."

* * *

Solrisa, perhaps surprisingly, doesn't even worry about drinking the green worm. She, in her heart, has no fear of the green worms. She's dealt with them before and knows *The* Dragon keeps her safe.

She gulps it and does not think twice about it, save to worry that she's eaten too much and might need to have her armor let out.

* * *

Zeech wrote:
"Welcome Lady Lashonna!"

Solrisa claps her hands, smiling as if she had finally found something very unexpected. She turns to Mariss.

"Mr. Mariss, you know many things. And know many people. Can you give me an introduction to that Lady there? I would be *SO* appreciative!" Solrisa offers her warmest smile to Mariss.


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Male Human Brawler (17), Thief (0)

Despite his efforts not to, Mortimer falls heavily into his chair scanning the seating arrangements with alternating arched eyebrows. His eyes slowly settle on Zeech with something of a bemused look. How does he eat with all that hair?

Mahuudril wrote:
"Come, Mortimer. Regale me and the Captain with one of your greatest fights. I would like to live vicariously through those muscles of yours. You of course don't have to answer a personal question, but are you betrothed? Do you have a certain someone who brings your blood to attention, ready for further orders? Ah, youth."

Mortimer coughs embarrassedly, then finds himself gazing across the table at Solrisa. He turns to Mahuudril, "Ah, ah -- no." he says quietly.

"Anyway" he states, clearing his throat. "This is one of my favorites --"

One of Mort's Favorites:

"Well, there once was this really nasty mine --" his eyes dart to Eidi in a painful recollection
Quote:
"We have again seen a spellweaver...

"-- nasty guy with a nasty, filthy beard -- Ascaria served up a super MPA -- Magepoint Pale Ale -- I pulled a tanglefoot bag, then Tynan checked the door... but it was the wrong door. We find this pool but it turns out the pool is really one big scrying device. So I'm there, and I figure the ugly beard guy -- is also there. I pull out a potion of Cat's grace and creep toward the balcony despite Ascaria's will."

Mortimer picks up the smaller utensils splayed in front of him as well as the butter ramekin to help illustrate his story.

"So I have this tanglefoot bag, and this Potion of Cat's grace, and this balcony overlooks this HUGE room, -- and there he is -- ugly beard guy and he's floating in the middle of the room and talking to me in my head and makes some weird threat about eating my brain."

He pauses for a moment, reaching for the water and takes a sip or two. He looks at his audience as he puts down the glass; and putting his hand to his chest he say dramatically, "I know -- my brain! I felt like I was in the balcony of some sort of twisted opera house."

"So Tynan, Eri, Sol, Ascaria -- everyone moves in behind me, and now we're all looking at this weird bearded guy. And he's got octopins down there on the ground creeping rather speedily toward us -- and there's one behind us!"

"So, I close my eyes and unload the tanglefoot bag on one of the ascending octopins -- slowing it down and pull out a potion of Spider Climb."

"Meanwhile Ugly Beard Guy throws some lightning at us, I dodge it and the balcony octopins while Tynan stabs, Ascaria serves, and Eri shoots the monstrosity behind us --"

Mortimer's tale is derailed as hears:

Mariss wrote:
"I wonder what kind of noises you make when you're aroused. Do you think we'll find out tonight? ... You could do much worse than a night in my chambers..."

He directs his voice loudly with a hint of impatience toward Mariss in order to garner his attention as well, "But it is Solrisa -- who in a miraculous show of bravery and skill rends the cephalopod's appendages to flaccid masses of gelatinous muck -- then splits THE WHOLE THING from mantle to beak reducing it all to a pile of putrid pudding..." He puts slight emphasis on the words "flaccid", "gelatinous muck" and "putrid pudding".

He lowers his voice back to a normal speaking level and continues, clearing his throat once again. "Balcony now cleared, it was then that lept onto the wall and crawled along the ceiling of the room until I'm above the Ugly Beard Guy -- then let go of the ceiling to drop on him! Out of mid air I just grabbed this ugly beard guy, he somehow forces me to let go. As I plummet 40 feet toward the ground I pull out my crossbow, load it, and shoot the Ugly Beard Guy in the nethers. I land safely thanks to something Eri did to me, and we ALL end up beating up this light throwing ugly beard guy together."

"Eri and Sol, plugging away at him from the balcony with their bows, with then a spear throwing Tynan. Ascaria was serving beer and otherwise keeping us all on our toes, and finally me on the floor -- shooting crossbow bolts up his nethers."

"And that's how the Outcasts did it," he finishes with a grin, and another swig of water.

~~~~~

Prince Zeech stands, and raises his hand, calling for your attention, and your silence. "The time has come, you lucky people. Please rise from your seats."

Mortimer stands even just as the Prince stands. "Welcome Lady Lashonna!" Unable to tear his eyes off of this spellbinding beauty, Mortimer struggles a bit in blind-grabbing his wine glass. Mesmerized, he tries not to stare and forgets to imbibe it. He sits only after Lady Lashonna is seated, looking toward his place setting.

She's got to be more pale than me -- it looks good on her... like she glows. I'm totally going to be an Elf in my next life. He glances at Eidi. At least they are as far apart as they can be while still being in the same room...

He looks curiously at the silver goblet place in front of him, then to others around the table.
Sense Motive: 10 + 19 = 29

Oh, this won't be great, but it's just another tasteless ritual. Mort roles his eyes in boredom.

Fool wrote:
"In Redhand, it has always been the tradition to start a feast with such a celebration of thanks."

On cue, Mortimer slurps his worm out of its goblet like an oyster, bites once into it and swallows it whole. He chases it with an ample quantity of wine.


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|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|
Ascaria wrote:
"Oh, I don’t think I’m any more responsible for our win than any other on the team. We each bring our own strengths, mine just happens to be healing. An uncommon focus for kids today, but I do all-right.”

Hemriss smiles a small smile. "A humble take on being selected by a god to perform miracles. You are certainly a welcome companion into the vipers' pit? There are no non-believers in the trenches of war, from what I hear. You do not worship Asmodeus. Do any of your Outcasts? I would think so, given their prominence in Cheliax."

Eidi wrote:
"The Prince has a good eye. I have indeed researched the energies of life and death. My age is taking me to a conclusion and so I am planning to build up my own mausoleum. If I am right, this is a good place to get ideas about how to achieve it."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16

The Prince looks Eidi over, one eyebrow slightly elevated above the other. "I found my inspiration in my own dreams, master Eidi. I suggest you try to do the same. I have several tonics you could try before bed, to induce a deeper state, if you have trouble in your old age."

Eidi wrote:
"I have heard she defeated a cabal of heretics some years ago in this city..."

Zeech's neck muscles strain slightly, as he answers the elder half-elf. "She wasn't alone in the effort, mind you. The Ebon Triad are like cockroaches. They still scurry in my streets, despite our best efforts to eradicate them."

Solrisa wrote:
"Mr. Mariss, are you in search of someone who will get you excited... I will find many friends for you to share excitement with. I will."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19

Mariss spares no energy to conceal his eye roll. "I don't need your help in such matters. I don't pay for quim. Matchmaking is one thing, madaming for whores is quite another."

Solrisa wrote:
"Mr. Mariss, you know many things. And know many people. Can you give me an introduction to that Lady there? I would be *SO* appreciative!"

Mariss drops his chin towards the shoulder closer to Solrisa. "Aye, I certainly know people, but Lady Lashonna is not just any people. I have yet to meet her, myself. You're certainly forward enough, why don't you just introduce yourself? It is, after all, a Banquet. You should mingle while you can."

Mortimer wrote:
[b]Mortimer's Master Class[/b

The dinner conversation takes an unexpected turn. In various moments, side conversations begin to wink out, as the hobgoblins begin to pay attention to the giant's storytelling, then Montague and Kilraven. In short succession, the rest of the table is drawn into Mortimer's retelling of the Fall of the Mindflayer. When the story comes to a close, several Attendees applaud, Toris leaning over the table the most vigorous in his handclaps.

Mariss slow claps, at least, a smirk on his face still set from the moment Mortimer raised his voice, uttering Solrisa's name.

All Attendees manage to down their worms, though Lady Miszen and Toris have more difficulty for the size of theirs compared to their mouth cavities. The Fool does his best to appear here and there, observing the worms return to their holes...

Feel free to continue RP, I'll advance the Banquet in a bit.


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Male, Gnome
GM Rat Sass wrote:
Hemriss smiles a small smile. "A humble take on being selected by a god to perform miracles. You are certainly a welcome companion into the vipers' pit? There are no non-believers in the trenches of war, from what I hear. You do not worship Asmodeus. Do any of your Outcasts? I would think so, given their prominence in Cheliax."

”Oh, I’ve not been selected by a god ma’am, it’s just natural. I’ve been able to heal since before I knew how to talk. It’s just always been in me.” he grins, then worries about the Asmodean line of questioning. ’I go to church on the required holy days, as I’m sure do the others.” he quips quickly. And for his part it’s true, excepting maybe lately as he hasn’t really kept track of the days. But he always went on the required days. He doesn’t want to be thrown in jail!

”So what about you? What do you believe when the lights are out and danger lurks?”

Later he smiles as Mort tells his story. It was a little rough, not how he would have told it, but Mort seemed to enjoy it so, and Ascaria always felt uneasy talking about himself.


Bald male Half-Elf elder

"Ah! My dreams! It would resemble more to a Calistran temple if it is to accommodate my dreams" Eidi cannot avoid to chuckle on the thought.

GM Rat Sass wrote:
Zeech's neck muscles strain slightly, as he answers the elder half-elf. "She wasn't alone in the effort, mind you. The Ebon Triad are like cockroaches. They still scurry in my streets, despite our best efforts to eradicate them."

"It would seem they do at least sprawl us much as cockroaches. We defeated a similar cabal below the streets of Egorian back during the arena tournament" the elder eyes stretches "Being such a strong obstacle in their plans, it wouldn't be unthinkable if they attempt to target you"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 23

And the half-elf does scan the table trying to look if someone is paying special attention on what they are talking.
Sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28


F Half Elf:
HP 135, F19R14W16,Dip+13,Fly+7,HanAnim+8;K(rel)+18, Spllcrft +17,UMD +22

”Oh she’s lovely, Mr. Mariss, and you’re right, I should go introduce myself,” Solrisa smiles happily at the idea of making a new friend.

She continues to eat, waiting for a good time to introduce herself to the Lady. She’s mostly forgotten why the party is here, what the party needs, or what the point of attending the party is in this time and from all the excitement. But she knows she needs to meet the Lady. And she will do this soon.

She listens to Mort’s story, clapping when appropriate and, this time, completely forgetting that it was her who did all these things. She seems worried when the hero, Solrisa, is in danger and cheers when the hero wins...unable to reconcile in the moment that she’s the one who survived. She’s so entranced by everything that her past and deeds have temporarily elude her.

She continues to make small talk while she waits her chance to speak to the Lady.


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Male Human Brawler (17), Thief (0)

Deep down inside Mortimer is very offput by having to swallow a worm, and he does his best to avoid showing it by trying to think of almost anything else.

What kind of jerk feeds a ... oh, yah. The faithless Asmodean kind. He glances at Eidi, then at Lashonna and frowns ruefully. If I'd lost to him in the cock fight, would Eidi and my places at this table be swapped? I mean -- this wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to sit next to Lashonna. They couldn't be further apart! How am I supposed to fix that now?

He looks up at Smirking Mariss across the table.

"Don't worry," he 'reassures' the half orc insincerely, happy for the additional distraction and taunting opportunity. "Maybe there will be dancing first."

Well, that WOULD be one way to get Eidi and Lashonna together... though for his sake it would have to be a really slow dance... And why is her portrait on Zeech's wall? Is Lashonna some kind of prisoner here in this town?

Eidi wrote:
"Being such a strong obstacle in their plans, it wouldn't be unthinkable if they attempt to target you"

Mortimer listens intently to Eidi's wise words, nodding gravely. He leans a little over the table to garner Zeech's attention while Eidi's stretched eyes scan.

"... seeing as they are ubiquitous, and you are all powerful and all."

AidDiplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

I should take over this whole party.

He summons a servant and politely orders an orchestra for the whole table.


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|Roll20 Link- Carrion Crown| |Roll20 Link- Age of Worms|

GM Rolls:

1d20 ⇒ 5

Ascaria wrote:
"Oh, I’ve not been selected by a god ma’am, it’s just natural. I’ve been able to heal since before I knew how to talk. It’s just always been in me. I go to church on the required holy days, as I’m sure do the others."

Hemriss smiles, though it fails to reach her eyes. "Natural healing, then? You smear salves and unguents on your cared-for? Perhaps you can show us your jar of leeches. No. If I understand the reports, you're a magical gnome. A gnome who chooses to believe the universe saw fit to fill them with power, rather than a deity, which is far more likely."

Ascaria wrote:
"So what about you? What do you believe when the lights are out and danger lurks?”

Hemriss leans towards Ascaria. "Our Lord Asmodeus is the Danger that Lurks in the dark. This is my faith. It is why I fear nothing of the shadows, only that I might disappoint Him, and fall to the stronger followers, as is the way. Of course, when I must close my eyes, I trust in the alliances I have made to see me safe to waking. The world can be a cruel place, and companions of like mind are quite valuable, wouldn't you agree?" The misshapen lady sips her wine, her lips bending at an odd slope to accommodate the rim of the glass.

Eidi wrote:
"It would seem they do at least sprawl us much as cockroaches. We defeated a similar cabal below the streets of Egorian back during the arena tournament. Being such a strong obstacle in their plans, it wouldn't be unthinkable if they attempt to target you."
Mortimer wrote:
"... seeing as they are ubiquitous, and you are all powerful and all."

Zeech readies to answer Eidi, when Mortimer enjoins the conversation from further down the table. "Yes, yes. That is the power of the rabble. They breed like rabbits, and feather their seed to the winds, making it a constant effort to see them destroyed. I am the hunter, not the hunted, ser Eidi. I have little to fear in the streets of Alhaster. It is, after all, my city. But Egorian is another matter. Tell me- how many did you slay, and how did you find them? I find it vexing that they made it as far as our Capitol."

Sense Motive DC 22:

The Prince lost sincerity in his tone of voice, speaking on 'his' Capitol. If the province of Redhand is, in his mind, truly a part of Cheliax, it would have been easy as pie to speak sincerely his loyalty to the Capitol...

Eidi:

The Lady Lashonna is quite fixated on you, and Mortimer. Her eyes take in the chatty gnome as well, but they return to the two of you frequently, while she does her best to take all Attendees in...

Mortimer wrote:
"Don't worry. Maybe there will be dancing first."

Mariss raises a glass to the giant. "Oh, she's all yours, Mort. Not sure she'd consider dancing your foreplay, but I've met stranger women."

Mortimer wrote:
He summons a servant and politely orders an orchestra for the whole table.

The Servant looks from Mortimer, to the head of the table, before bowing her head while shrugging her shoulders. Without answering with words, she excuses herself in her manner, and moves to Prince Zeech and Hemriss.

Perception DC 20:

The Servant conveys a message, indicating to Zeech that the guest known as Mortimer has requested a band of musical performers make themselves available during the Banquet.

Zeech frowns lightly, as he turns from his Servant, to Mortimer. "I must apologize, ser Mortimer. I must not have made myself clear. It is my obligation, nay, my very duty, to see you properly entertained for the entirety of the evening. Please, if you feel that I have failed in that endeavor, I must address the wrong. Is the conversation at the table not stimulating enough, that you would seek your own diversions apart from my own? Did you think that you had a hand in planning tonight's festivities? Speak, good man. I would know your mind."

...

The First Course consumed, Zeech waves to a Servant, who opens the furthest double doors. She allows a single domesticated manticore to enter. Its natural fur of auburn has been dyed a royal blue, its maw muzzled with masterwork leather and metal. It carries an enormous pie on a silver dish of great size strapped to its back. Pastry beaks of birds cover the pie.

As everyone watches, the crust is opened and twenty-four blackbirds emerge, flying around the room in terror. It becomes obvious enough that these blackbirds are a programmed illusion, when various guests raise their hands to shoo away a hostile avian, and find no ruffled feathers falling to the table, find no claw drawing blood from the hand held out.

The blackbird pie has a delicately sugared and almond crust that tastes surprisingly good. The meat of the pie is certainly fowl. As the pie is served, the servants bring in huge tureens of vegetables, along with a copious amount of a spiced white wine.

"Redhand Resinwint." Captain Vulras acknowledges the Prince with a raised glass of the spiced wine. "You honor us, Prince Zeech." Vulras leans back in his chair, the volume of his voice tempered. "Careful now. It rushes to the head, if you're not a seasoned drinker." Caution given, the Captain certainly indulges in the drink.

Everyone, save the Lady Miszen, joins the Captain in the first pour of the Resinwint. Let me know if you join the Captain, or the Lady Miszen.


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Male, Gnome
Hemriss wrote:
Hemriss smiles, though it fails to reach her eyes. "Natural healing, then? You smear salves and unguents on your cared-for? Perhaps you can show us your jar of leeches. No. If I understand the reports, you're a magical gnome. A gnome who chooses to believe the universe saw fit to fill them with power, rather than a deity, which is far more likely.”

Ascaria laughs, ”Yes, I am a bit egotistical, and I am certainly a magical gnome, though the ‘leeches’ are helpful for disease. No god bestows my power, for it came in a time before I even knew the gods. How could I get power from them if I did not first worship them? Is that not the usual manner?”

Hemriss wrote:
Hemriss leans towards Ascaria. "Our Lord Asmodeus is the Danger that Lurks in the dark. This is my faith. It is why I fear nothing of the shadows, only that I might disappoint Him, and fall to the stronger followers, as is the way. Of course, when I must close my eyes, I trust in the alliances I have made to see me safe to waking. The world can be a cruel place, and companions of like mind are quite valuable, wouldn't you agree?" The misshapen lady sips her wine, her lips bending at an odd slope to accommodate the rim of the glass.

Ascaria nods in total agreement. We are not so dislike you and I. We both believe that Asmodeus is dangerous and our companions valuable.

Captain Vulras wrote:
"Redhand Resinwint.” Captain Vulras acknowledges the Prince with a raised glass of the spiced wine. ”You honor us, Prince Zeech.” Vulras leans back in his chair, the volume of his voice tempered. ”Careful now. It rushes to the head, if you're not a seasoned drinker.” Caution given, the Captain certainly indulges in the drink.

When Zeech grinds the party to a halt over Mort’s musical inspiration, Ascaria frowns. Why is he taking it so personally? Seems old Mort is rubbing his rhubarb the wrong way. And they say, you should never rub another man’s rhubarb.

He wonders how the big man will handle him. He’s not one with words it’s true, but there’s an honesty there that’s hard to miss. And what's wrong with putting Zeech on edge? He might make a mistake...

Later, as the new drink is brought, Ascaria brightens even more - very nearly glowing in his chair. He carefully sips the spiced wine, knowing all too well that a drunken gnome does no one any good - and it’s going to be a looong night. So he takes a small mouthful, savors it, and swallows, presumably with a smile.


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Male Human Brawler (17), Thief (0)
Zeech wrote:
"I find it vexing that they made it as far as our Capitol."

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

As the wine chases worm, Mortimer's pallor attains a slight rosy flush.

"Our capital?", Mortimer snorts derisively in agreement with Prince Zeech. " Why, surely there are dozens of Provinces/Estates, villages and other small towns between here and Egorian ... and beyond where such rabble dare not lurk," he says, glancing at Captain Vulras, knowingly. His face hot, Mortimer takes a sip of water. "We should not dwell on the past, having already quashed it -- with whichever means. Instead, let us reflect on what the great city of Alhaster continues to offer to the future."

~~~

Zeech wrote:
"I must apologize, ser Mortimer. I must not have made myself clear. It is my obligation, nay, my very duty, to see you properly entertained for the entirety of the evening. Please, if you feel that I have failed in that endeavor, I must address the wrong. [ For Asmodeous's sake, you ungrateful mortal -- how dare you suggest I am lacking in some manner or other!] "

Well, I don't know about anyone else, but the awful drone of undead heads above isn't cutting it for me.

"Had I though that you had failed in your endeavor to entertain tonight, Your Majesty," Mortimer says to Zeech bowing his head respectfully. and carefully choosing his words he continues," I'm sure I would have departed long ago," he winks at Mahuudril. "I couldn't think of anything more perfect than your company and the company of your guests. I only reminisce -- perhaps foolishly and out of my station -- of a slight finishing touch," his rosy face confesses abashed. "Background music... a philter or two ... maybe later some dancing... a little serenade ..."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

He looks around the table brightly with hope. Right? Everyone wants dancing, right?!

He looks at Mariss and insists, "You want dancing."
He looks at Hoff, "You want dancing too."

Unimpressed, Mortimer stares at the portion of black bird pie placed on his plate. He relieves a (few) tureens of vegetables from the servants, offing some to those around him before helping himself to ample quantities -- being sure to use some vegetables to obscure the portion of pie in which he has no intention of eating. What kind of banquet is this? Where is the quinoa?

"Daikon?" he offers Mahdruul.

As he brings the Resinwint to his nose he involuntarily winces. Don't they treat wood with this for furniture? He pretends to sample it, then stealthily attempts to refill Vulras's glass by emptying his own into it when no one is looking.

Sleight: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24


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Bald male Half-Elf elder

"We actually stumbled with one of their high priests while we were walking around the Arena's dungeons" Eidi points to the beads he gave to Zeech before "I actually took them from his heretic hands. They will make a better service at your hands Prince"
Sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17

Perception: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (3) + 20 = 23
Eidi looks at Mortimer and smiles. The elder enjoys the music.

The half-elf takes the cup and joins the Captain, but he only takes a small sip. Leaving it back over the table, he merely comments "Not a warm milk, but interesting anyway"

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