Tynan works his blades, managing to strike the creature in all its elusiveness! Solrisa joins the double-bladed man with a powerful blow of her own! Ascaria heals once more, restoring himself and almost restoring the giant to full health, as well. Mortimer senses a better way to fight the creatures, closing his eyes to remove the odd shiftiness of the cat, while bringing a flurry of blows down upon the creature, striking it soundly on his last swing. Hourpen moves with kaleidoscopic streak, injuring the displacer beast with a fiery rune as he passes by.
Maurice and Eri continue to assail the remaining displacer beast on their side of the wagon with a volley of projectiles. Sadly, none of their shots, some of them otherwise sound, fail to hit the beast even once.
The northern displacer beasts lash out at their respective prey. The blinded panther stalks Eri, while the newly-bled cat spins on Tynan, regaling him with all attacks.
Solrisa continues to engage the displacer beast between her and Mort, sensing its imminent departure. "Oh! Don't run away! Don't you want to claw at me one last time?"
to hit; (bless,-PA, flank)
magic damage.
high is good
to hit; (bless,-PA, flank)
magic damage.
high is good
Round 4, Init 17+
Frustrated with the creature's shimmer, Tynan stabs at it repeatedly, once more.
I really hate whatever this is...
HP:32/40
Saves:Fort 5, Ref 9, Will 3
Badly injured, and still reeling in blindness, the panther locking horns with Solrisa and Mortimer has had enough. It retreats, while its tentacles snap at the brutes in a warning not to pursue it. It is hindered from a full out move, as its sight fails to return in time.
Round 4, Init 5
Eri looks down the barrel of his bow, takes a 5’ step, and shoots again.
for
for
AC 12
CMD 16
BAB +3
Defensive casting = 13 (@5th)
Spell Penetration= 5
The spells/day listed will include the casting (if any) that I made this round
b]Orisons[/b] DC:14(Acid Splash, Create Water, Detect Magic. Mage Hand, Spark, Message, Prestidigitation)
First Level: DC:15 (7/7 per day) (Feather Fall, Grease. Gravity Bow, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, shocking grasp)
Second Level: DC:16 (3/5 per day) (Admonishing Ray, Glitterdust, Gust of Wind)
Weapon equipped = +1 Composite Long Bow
+7 or +5/+5
+8 or +6/+6 within 30' with +1 dam
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Round 4, Init 6
Hourpen watches for signs to see if the creature near him is also looking to move off. He enhances his weapon and readies an attack incase it shows continued signs of hostility.
, , .
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Round 4, Init 8
AC 19, 23 on AoO; 40/46 HP
BAB = +6/+1 (level 6)
ToHit = 1d20+10
RHit = 1d20+10-2 (-2 to hit, +4 dam on Power Attack, +1d6 if cold)
LHit = 1d20+10-2 (-2 to hit, +4 dam on Power Attack, +1d6 if cold)
THit = 1d20+5-2 (-2 to hit, +4 dam on Power Attack, +1d6 if cold)
Throw = 1d20 + BAB + Dex
Fort+6 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+7
Will+4 (+2 base/wis, +1 headband)
Initiative +2
CMD = 23, 21 if flat footed
Flexibility Slots: 5/6
Shirt Slots: 10/10
"Oh! Don't run away! Don't you want to claw at me one last time?"
"Hey! Me! Meeeee!" Mortimer bellows at the beast, "Pick "
He watches in dismay as the cat turns tail."Scaredy cat..." Mortimer repeats under his breath, heading for the nearest Northern foe leaving Sol to finish the fleeing cat.
Upon closing in, he closes his eyes again and tries to sense the location of his target.
for
Close! Try again!
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Round: 4, Initiative: 13
Weapon Equipped = Wand CLW
Cold Iron Bullets (5/5), Silver Bullets (5/5)
Conditions = Bless (4/60r)
Life Link (6)(100’) = Eri, Hourpen, Maurice, Mort, Sol, Tynan
Channel Energy (6/9) (DC: 19)(Avoid 6) (3d6+1)
Amiable Blunder (1/1) (if Diplomacy failed by >5, reroll to avoid worsening attitude)
Rod of Extend (lesser) (3/3)
Melee Attack: BAB +4, Size +1 Damage: +0
Ranged Attack: BAB +4, Dex +1, Size +1 Damage: +0
Spells (Caster Level 6, Concentration +12)
Once per Day: Arcane Mark, Comprehend Languages, Mending, Message, Read Magic
Zero (16): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light, Purify Food and Drink, Spark, Stabilize
First (17): (7/8) Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Detect Undead, Diagnose Disease, Enhance Water, Liberating Command
Second (18): (6/7) Burst of Radiance, Cure Moderate Wounds, Lesser Restoration, Pilfering Hand
Third (19): (4/4) Cure Serious Wounds, Daylight, Neutralize Poison
Ascaria has a rough round, as he absorbs quite a bit of damage from his friends.*
"Oh! Don't run away! Don't you want to claw at me one last time?""Hey! Me! Meeeee!" Mortimer bellows at the beast, "Pick "
He watches in dismay as the cat turns tail.
Pummeled and sore from the many injuries the party is sustaining, Ascaria looks open mouthed as the two fight over who gets to take more damage.
There must be some sort of poison in their attacks making them act so!As much for his own self preservation as anything else, he channels again, still careful to carve out the displacing cats. He 5' steps to reach Hourpen just before the blast goes off.
He takes out the wand of cure light wounds and readies to use it.
Tynan falls prey to the creature's shimmer, as does Solrisa. Ascaria soaks up pain like bread on hot butter, healing still more. Mortimer pursues present panther in place of escaping one. Hourpen strikes, and with surprising strength! Eri succumbs to the shimmer of the cats as well.
Maurice keeps up his assault, and he hits!
The displacer beasts growl at intervals now, as one reassures the other of their continued presence. This seems to settle the matter, and they remain, at least long enough to see what damage they can wreak, before retreating themselves. Maurice receives a couple of tentacle attacks for his trouble, while Hourpen incurs the wrath of the still-sighted panther twice his size.
Maurice slumps to the ground, bleeding profusely.
Round: 5, Initiative: 13
Weapon Equipped = Wand CLW
Cold Iron Bullets (5/5), Silver Bullets (5/5)
Conditions = Bless (4/60r)
Life Link (6)(100’) = Eri, Hourpen, Maurice, Mort, Sol, Tynan
Channel Energy (5/9) (DC: 19)(Avoid 6) (3d6+1)
Amiable Blunder (1/1) (if Diplomacy failed by >5, reroll to avoid worsening attitude)
Rod of Extend (lesser) (3/3)
Melee Attack: BAB +4, Size +1 Damage: +0
Ranged Attack: BAB +4, Dex +1, Size +1 Damage: +0
Spells (Caster Level 6, Concentration +12)
Once per Day: Arcane Mark, Comprehend Languages, Mending, Message, Read Magic
Zero (16): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light, Purify Food and Drink, Spark, Stabilize
First (17): (7/8) Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Detect Undead, Diagnose Disease, Enhance Water, Liberating Command
Second (18): (6/7) Burst of Radiance, Cure Moderate Wounds, Lesser Restoration, Pilfering Hand
Third (19): (4/4) Cure Serious Wounds, Daylight, Neutralize Poison
Ascaria watches Maurice fall, and is glad to ‘see’ the thin green thread in his mind’s eye as the poor man is healed by his life link. As is Hourpen of course!*
Ascaria channels once again, making sure Hourpen in particular is in range (5’ step). He carves out the remaining displacers - especially the downed one. Don’t want that getting up again!
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Maurice's eyes pop open, as does his mouth. "Damn it, man! You beat a retreat, you might want to let me know first, you selfish prick!" He rolls an arm to pick up his crossbow, loading and firing it from the ground.
He spits blood in Eri's general direction.
Solrisa continues to guard the southern perimeter, readying to strike at the creature should it find its courage once again.
Round 5, Init 8
AC 19, 23 on AoO; 46/46 HP
BAB = +6/+1 (level 6)
ToHit = 1d20+10
RHit = 1d20+10-2 (-2 to hit, +4 dam on Power Attack, +1d6 if cold)
LHit = 1d20+10-2 (-2 to hit, +4 dam on Power Attack, +1d6 if cold)
THit = 1d20+5-2 (-2 to hit, +4 dam on Power Attack, +1d6 if cold)
Throw = 1d20 + BAB + Dex
Fort+6 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+7
Will+4 (+2 base/wis, +1 headband)
Initiative +2
CMD = 23, 21 if flat footed
Flexibility Slots: 5/6
Shirt Slots: 10/10
Eyes still closed, Mortimer hears Maurice's salty objection.
"Maurice!" Mortimer reproves. "Do you have to be so colorful around the Lady?!"
He launches his fist through the cat's jaw.
for
He tries to readjust the cat's head back into position to set up for his incoming knee.
for
for
Whoa... What happened to the forehead? He opens one eye to look at the target of his flurried attacks to assess its health.
for
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Maurice looks about, unable to see Mort for his response. "Which lady we talking about? Solrisa, or Eri?"
The huge cat-like creature collapses under Mort's mostly-successful strikes. The creature pays with its greedy gamble with its life. Its pack mate leans down on its front legs, the universal animal posture for readying to flee...
Round 5, Init 6
Hourpen feels the impact of the creature's attacks and quickly after the healing presence of Ascaria.
Mustn't squander such blessings.
Lashing out with both blade and spell, Hourpen concentrates aiming to leave no opening for the creature to take advantage of.
, , ,
, , ,
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Round 5, Init 5
”I see that you’re upset and I would be, too. But, if you want to shoot your ranged weapon maybe you should use it far enough away that the kitty cat can’t hit you.”
Eri sighs and takes a 5’ step and performs total defense hoping that Maurice heeds his advice.
I’d be better off just throwing my arrows at these forking things.
AC 12
CMD 16
BAB +3
Defensive casting = 13 (@5th)
Spell Penetration= 5
The spells/day listed will include the casting (if any) that I made this round
b]Orisons[/b] DC:14(Acid Splash, Create Water, Detect Magic. Mage Hand, Spark, Message, Prestidigitation)
First Level: DC:15 (7/7 per day) (Feather Fall, Grease. Gravity Bow, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, shocking grasp)
Second Level: DC:16 (3/5 per day) (Admonishing Ray, Glitterdust, Gust of Wind)
Weapon equipped = +1 Composite Long Bow
+7 or +5/+5
+8 or +6/+6 within 30' with +1 dam
Round 5, Init 17+
Tynan circles around the back of the cart, and stabs at the feline attacker, but misses handily.
HP:40/40
Saves:Fort 5, Ref 9, Will 3
Mortimer shatters several vital places along the displacer's body, allowing Tynan and Hourpen to close on the final beast around the wagon. The halfling is able to bleed the beast a little more, as does Maurice from the ground. Ascaria, Solrisa, and Eri all maintain defensive positions within the camp.
The creature bolts, and at full speed. It seems to leverage its tentacles as feelers, avoiding the trees as it hies away. With its sight still impaired from Eri's glittering, it's unable to avoid opportunistic assaults from the get-go.
...
In his already agitated mood, Maurice checks on the horses, then looks over the panthers' bodies. "You fixin' to do anything with them?"
...
The morning comes, and the wagon makes good time, as the third day brings you into sight of Egorian by sunset. City militia patrols finally radiate far enough that you no longer feel unsafe along the eastern road entering the city.
That feeling of security turns to something else, as you begin to really see Egorian for its dark glory. The Wall, for one, is massive, styled in gothic form, with red and black stonework that mirrors much of the city in its newer quarters. From the southern shore of Lake Sorrow, to the eastern bank of the Adivian River, the Wall is an imposing first impression. Thrune Manor rises above the city on hilltop within the Wall, while the Imperial Palace and Grand Temple to Asmodeus provide easy landmarks for their size towards the center of the city.
Maurice pilots the wagon towards the West Gate, where you are slowly drawn into a long line of merchant caravans, and farmer wagons. Eventually, after roughly two hours of waiting, you arrive at the Gate itself. There appear to be lengthy inspections for each and every wagon passing into and out of the city. Guards keep strict control of the distance between the awaiting wagons, and the wagon under inspection.
A guard, clad in black and red with a significant underbeard, approaches and speaks to Maurice, indicating where exactly to pull the wagon, and stop.
"Everybody out! Line up, right here. Show your packs, lemme see your weapons. Turn 'em out. Don't make me wrestle with your gear. I want easy access. Am I clear?"
Two corpulent guards approach, now that the first guard has you situated, to assist in the inspection. They all share the same concerned and disapproving looks as they begin to sort through your packs. "No. No. This won't do. Looks like we may have hold onto this..."
Their act is good, but it's not award-winning. They are exerting their position to extort a bribe or three, likely.
Once the scaredy cat runs away Eri turns and offers his hand to Maurice.
”Sorry I left you hanging. I should have pointed out that you were too close. Let me buy you an ale when we get to town.”
Eri takes his bow out and is ready to show it to the guards. When they start asking to see all of the things from every little bit of his gear he stops and whispers to Ascaria. [b]”They can’t be serious, can they?”
Regretful that the beast has shown its willingness to harass travelers, Hourpen does his best to help dispatch the creature so that it won't return to attack others. He attempts to mark it so that if it returns to harass the group it can be quickly identified, but the beast eludes the strike.
, , ,
"What was that thing?"
Hourpen looks longingly out the carriage window, toward the seemingly darkening sky.
With little sense of what the guards intend, Hourpen hopes to smooth over what ever issue may be occurring.
"How may I cooperate sir?"
~~~
The creature bolts, and at full speed. It seems to leverage its tentacles as feelers, avoiding the trees as it hies away.
Before he can think, Mortimer goes tearing after the last fleeing creature. He gets about 40 feet from the heart of camp before he stops.
What am I doing? He starts to crash slightly as the adrenaline rush subsides.
Not caring if the rapidly retreating Displacer Beast can understand him or not, he calls out after it,
He hands Maurice some herbs and spice in case he wants to barbecue some tentacles, then finishes his round of watch with Tynan on his feet.
~~~
Mortimer glances at the map as they approach the city, and his imagination kicks into high gear.
"What's that say? 'City of Thorns'? 'Thorntown'?" he asks, barely raising his voice above a whisper while pointing to the map. "Didn't we find One-eye'd Thedrick's missing eye? It was in a vial stuff under a Metal Box under his bed, and was stuck through with a thorn. As cult leaders, could this be how they identify as chosen ones?"
"Everybody out! Line up, right here. Show your packs, lemme see your weapons. Turn 'em out. Don't make me wrestle with your gear. I want easy access. Am I clear?"
Just a couple of sods trying to make a less than honest living...? He leans out a little from his seat in the carriage to look up and down the crowded street.
Better to not attract too much attention.
He leaps off of the carriage and draws himself up to his full six foot eight inches. He holds out his trident, but does not hand it over. "Here -- this are our 'weapons'," he says, shaking it at them, " and these are our packs," he says gesturing to what array has presented itself thus far, whether open for 'easy access' or not.
As he gestures, he tries to hand each guard 5 gold on the sly.
"Easy enough?" he asks, taking back what's confiscated (if anything important at this point) and motioning for everyone to get out of the lineup and back onto the carriage.
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Weapon Equipped = None
Cold Iron Bullets (5/5), Silver Bullets (5/5)
Conditions = None
Life Link (6)(100’) = Eri, Hourpen, Maurice, Mort, Sol, Tynan
Channel Energy (5/9) (DC: 19)(Avoid 6) (3d6+1)
Amiable Blunder (1/1) (if Diplomacy failed by >5, reroll to avoid worsening attitude)
Rod of Extend (lesser) (3/3)
Melee Attack: BAB +4, Size +1 Damage: +0
Ranged Attack: BAB +4, Dex +1, Size +1 Damage: +0
Spells (Caster Level 6, Concentration +12)
Once per Day: Arcane Mark, Comprehend Languages, Mending, Message, Read Magic
Zero (16): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light, Purify Food and Drink, Spark, Stabilize
First (17): (7/8) Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Detect Undead, Diagnose Disease, Enhance Water, Liberating Command
Second (18): (6/7) Burst of Radiance, Cure Moderate Wounds, Lesser Restoration, Pilfering Hand
Third (19): (4/4) Cure Serious Wounds, Daylight, Neutralize Poison
Ascaria takes a moment after the fight to heal himself of his lingering injuries.
He shakes the clearly broken wand...
Ahhh, that's better.
In his already agitated mood, Maurice checks on the horses, then looks over the panthers' bodies. “You fixin' to do anything with them?”
Ascaria shakes his head. ”You want ‘em?”
As he sees the Egorian patrols, Ascaria relaxes a little and brightens. He wants to draw, but the lurching of the coach prevents such a relaxing pastime. As the great gates and wall loom ever larger however, he grows uneasy again. ”This is Asmodean turf. Keep hands and feet inside the coach at all times… You must be this tall to enter the city a free man” he mumbles looking at Hourpen. He hopes nothing untoward occurs.
When the guards demand obedience, he complies. He empties his sling bag, such as it is, and looks in some horror at the various bits and pieces of detritus he’s accumulated. I really need to clean up my bag!
He leaves his dagger in his sheath for the longest time, but notices Mort holding up the trident and remembers that he too is armed, for what it’s worth. He takes it out and places it on the table by his pack.
”They can’t be serious, can they?”
He whispers back, ”Just do as they say and we’ll be in the city in no time I’m sure. The guards are very… deliberate I guess.”
He tries not to look guilty.
Mortimer is palming five gold coins at a time, and slipping them into the three guards' hands, which quickly find their way to their own pockets.
When he sees Mort reload his stuff, Eri tightens his bags and sundries and does not let go.
MINE
Don't see anything out of the ordinary. Will do as Ascaria suggests.
Hourpen follows Ascaria's example.
----------------
Tynan sizes up the bearded guard as he orders the group into a line and begins rummaging through packs.
"No. No. This won't do. Looks like we may have hold onto this..."
Being unfamiliar with the intricacies of Egorian, Tynan prepares his bag for search. Watching Mortimer's interactions with the guards, he cinches his pack and lifts it back to his shoulder.
"How may I cooperate sir?"
Neckbeard turns on Hourpen, aghast. "Do not address me directly, slip! Your masters should whip you good for speaking out like that. They give me permission, I'll do it myself, right here, right now." The guard shoves the halfling back towards the wagon, after looking through his things.
Neckbeard and his men continue to look through your backpacks, and make a show of handling your weapons, each and every one of them, to check the hilts and the tips. "Can't have you lacing your weapons with poison, that is ill-practice."
From Ascaria, he pulls two flasks of alchemist's fire. "Whoa, looky here! We have an arsonist in our midst!" He and his men chuckle as he sets them down on the table.
From Tynan, two more flasks. "I'm noticing a trend here."
Neckbeard beckons Solrisa forward, taking the bastard sword from her hand, and handing it to his lackey. "Alright now, turn around. That armor of yours there, might be hiding something." He begins to pat her down, from behind.
Solrisa raises her arms in a compliant gesture, but seems to lose her balance briefly, as Neckbeard passes a hand along her ribcage. Her foot lands squarely on the guard's inner calf, then runs down to the instep. "Oopsy! I am sorry! I'm ticklish. Doubly so when I'm caught unaware like that. Please, accept my apologies, won't you?"
Neckbeard begins to hop, clearly in pain as he clutches at his booted foot. He waves his two boys off, as they frown in his direction.
He continues on to Mortimer, where he pulls two more flasks, and encounters the vial with a green worm floating within it. "Another arsonist, but what do we have here? Why on earth would you want to hold onto this worm thing here?" Neckbeard holds it up to Mortimer, in better light.
Neckbeard and crew have accepted your coin, but Neckbeard still seems interested in the worm, less so the alchemist's fires...
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Throwing himself at Tynan's feet, Hourpen does his best to beg for mercy.
"No sir, please. Not a beating. I did as you said. I showed my cooperation. Please, not a beating."
Hourpen begins to paw frantically at the ground, scooting on his knees to move away from Tynan.
"Sir, I'll clean it up. Please don't beat me."
Neckbeard seems convinced of the cowed slip, giving him no further attention.
"Why on earth would you want to hold onto this worm thing here?"
"Oh, uh -- that's a souvenir from time I spent as a dungeon Guard beating unfortunate inmates of the Underworld. It's like a snow globe, here -- let me show you," replies Mortimer, gingerly taking the JarWorm from the guard. "Careful not to get it on you -- considering where it's been, it's likely rife with disease," he adds, making sure the lid is on tight. He gently shakes it as if it actually was a snow globe, and holds it up to the light as if he was expecting to see sparkly shimmers cascading around the worm.
Perhaps disappointingly, the liquid and the worm ooze around in the jar in much the same way honey might.
"Oh, hrm. Maybe it's too old now," he says, frowning at it," Oh well, " he says, carefully packing it back into his backpack, "A souvenir is a souvenir." He then clears what sounds like a huge hunk of phlegm out of his throat and casually spits it in the direction of the guard that was too close to Solrisa, as if he isn't aware of either his spit strength or his spit accuracy.
"No sir, please. Not a beating. I did as you said. I showed my cooperation. Please, not a beating."
Tynan barks at Hourpen harshly. "You'll get exactly what you deserve later." He then gives Hourpen a discrete wink.
Which is absolutely no punishment...
Neckbeard looks up at the giant, handing him back the vial, on his own terms, giving him the squint-eye. "You lie like a sack of rotten potatoes, but I'll let you have it back, seeing how you're so attached. Try to scare me off, I'm not buying it. Get yourselves on, now. You've wasted enough of my time already."
He and his wave you on, allowing you to keep your precious alchemist's fires. He pats his pocket, making sure he wasn't duped in the process.
...
Maurice asks for his next set of directions, understanding a general section of the city called Thorntown. Much of the time, Maurice waits for wagons to open up space for him to navigate the smaller lanes. You pass by Whipcrack, the slave district to your right, the common sounds of auctioneering and cries of pain mixing in the twilight hour. Aspex Garden to your left seems to be the start of better accommodations.
As night falls, you continue on for roughly half an hour's time on wagon, before you find yourselves in a much better part of town. A couple of brief conversations, and Maurice is able to pin down Eligos's estate. A heavy, iron-wrought gate breaks up an eight-foot brick wall, separating personal gardens from the bustle of the street traffic. A footman opens it, allowing the wagon and Solrisa on horseback to enter. Maurice takes advantage of the footman's offer to tend the horses, leaving you all to walk up a granite walkway, to the front door of a three-story mansion. A butler greets you at the beautifully-made wooden door, inviting you in only after receiving Allustan's sealed letter. You are brought into a lavish sitting room, and hardly wait at all, before an older man enters and greets you professionally, gloved handshakes all around.
"My, you've traveled a bit to visit. So says the letter, but Allustan is a little too loquacious in his writings. I'd rather hear your concerns, in your own words. If you're hungry, Reginald will attend your requests. I've already eaten tonight, but I can certainly share a sit-down with you all. Come, let's head to the dining hall." He doesn't wait for you to answer one way or another, taking Solrisa's hand, and resting it on his forearm, escorting her, and you all by proxy.
Heading down a narrow hallway, you arrive at the dining hall itself. It's every bit as grand as you might imagine, for someone in Eligos's position to entertain large groups of people. He bids you sit at the head table, and Reginald, a much younger man, meets with each of you for food requests.
Eligos pours himself a red wine from a wine bench, before sitting. "Alright, let's hear why I should be so interested in your visit. The hour grows late, and you'll need to find accommodations in the city before too long."
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Feeling completely out of his element, Mortimer stands in the sitting room afraid to touch anything. He tries not to gawk at the wall art.
He's relieved when Eligos shows up, but is rendered speechless by the grandeur of the dining hall. Shown to a seat , he completely forgets how to behave. Elbows resting uncomfortably on the table and constantly shifting, he tells Reginald that he would like some peanut butter.
"Alright, let's hear why I should be so interested in your visit. The hour grows late, and you'll need to find accommodations in the city before too long."
Oh, no! Not staying here? Shoot! Mortimer's gaze flashes around the room. If you're busy, we could come back later...
"You're very kind, to be seeing us at this hour," he stammers a little, reaching into his back pack. "We very much appreciate it. We thought you might find this an interesting study," he continues, more confidently pulling out the jar worm. "It's a Disease Worm of some kind. We encountered worms similar to it when an egg left behind by a black dragon broke open in the Mistmarsh. It completely corrupted the unborn hatchlings of the LizardFolk, turning them into something vicious and undead. Another type of Disease Worm ended up festering in some of the men from Blackwall Keep. They attacked us. There was nothing human left of them, we had to ... dispatch with what was left." He looks at Ascaria. "While doing so, I got one one on me, and it bored into my body. Ascaria here had to pull it out. They seem to need to spread by infecting living organisms. We don't know if they eventually keep going to become something more insidious. We're hoping to find some clue as to their origin, and/or what we can do to stop them from spreading. And there's more ... "
He tells Eligos about Kendra and Thedrick and the Evil Cults that they found in the mine, and that they were also studying the green worms no doubt to learn what they can and apply it toward the ruin of all people.
Ascaria thinks a moment, and orders the events in his thoughts. Once he has them all ready to go, he opens his mouth to speak - only to hear Mort plow on ahead!
He licks his lips and starts digging through his pack. He pulls out several scraps of paper and a parchment or two. As Mort gets to various places in the story, Ascaria digs through the pile and produces art to support the truth of it. If the lighting is not quite enough, he casts the cantrip on his hatband to better illuminate the scene.
At the end, he takes out his drawing of the various worms they've encountered so far and hands it to the kind host.
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"he tells Reginald that he would like some peanut butter.”
Eri smooths his hair and absentmindedly scratches behind his ear. Hmm, peanut butter does sound nice.
When Reginald comes around, ”Yes, I would like some wine and whatever meat and sundries you have in the kitchen. Mmm, yes and some of that peanut butter. That sounds delicious.”
"turning them into something vicious and undead.”
<Shudders>
Looking around with more than a little concern, Hourpen isn't sure what to think of the grand home. The mention of food reminds him of his hunger. As he pats his stomach he quietly regrets making such a mess of himself 'grovelling.' A shame to get dirt all over this fine furniture.
"Sir, your hospitality is much appreciated. I am happy to eat what the others have requested. Might there be a place where I could clean up a bit? I would rather not continue to dirty your fine home."
Eligos looks upon Hourpen with a touch of surprise. "Oh, you are considered equal to the others? Duly noted. Allustan failed to mention any of you by name." A brief wave of his hand, and Eligos beats Eri to the punch. Hourpen stands before you all, a tidy halfling.
Reginald manages to secure the various food items requested, bringing it out at odd timings during your discussion with Eligos.
As Mortimer takes the initiative to explain the course of events, and Ascaria supports the presentation with his drawings, Eligos remains silent, and absorbs the information respectfully. When it appears that you've concluded, he looks to the quieter members of the party for any further contributions. Solrisa continues masticating a fine cheese in a little too large a quantity, so smiles with her eyes, and covers her mouth with her hand, nodding for Eligos to respond.
"Well. I certainly didn't expect to hear from Allustan like this, after all this time. You bring grave news. Grave news, indeed. There is much to consider here, not the least of it being the presence of a cult, able to summon the creature you describe. Certainly a black dragon is a fearsome consideration, nevermind its 'gift' to the lizardfolk."
Something furry brushes your leg under the table.
"I will certainly spend time trying to piece this information together for you, as Allustan has requested. There is history here, but I can't put my finger on it, exactly. I'll need time in the city's Library, as well as the Academy. I'll need to hold onto all that you've presented here. Is that all right with you? I expect to return it to you, once my research is complete. I expect to be at this for the next several days, at least." He looks to you with a singular raised eyebrow.
"I think I've heard of a nice place to stay. I can't quite wrap my mouth around the name. Can you help me it's a nice place with comfortable beds and a welcoming bar with good food. If you can't remember that place either, can you recommend a place that we can stay for at least several days?"
Ascaria grows somewhat uneasy at one or two of the drawings leaving his possession, but in the end he shrugs and hands them over en masse.
”We have some shopping to do anyway. Say, uh, are there any churches other than Asmodeous in town? We have need of some holy water, and find that Asmodean water has a little… ah… after taste of a sort.” he struggles to describe what he means and trails off in the end hoping he didn’t just offend.
”Not trying to be rabble rousers mind you. Just looking for options.”
He listens to Eri try to remember. At least someone has some experience here. He’s hopeful of a reply so he can rest his head on a proper pillow rather than a jumbled up vest and a bit of blanket.
Eligos brings out a bone-colored pipe, and a deep purple sachet. Scooping out some tabac, he tamps down an appropriate amount, then lights a thin wooden stick from a nearby candle to bring fire to his smoke. He occasionally dots his speech with a wave of his pipe, setting it down on its stand at times. The room's air takes on a slight vanilla bourbon overtone.
"Yes, Egorian should be able to accommodate your shopping needs, as long as you're industrious enough to visit the different quarters. Eri, is it? You're right, in that Hung, Drawn, and Quartered is well enough known, but you're unlikely to sleep well, for its location near the docks. I'd suggest the Crooked House. A friend of mine there, Tarquin, would see to your needs, and likely provide you a discount upon mentioning my name." The man looks pleased with himself, as he takes several puffs.
"As for churches not dedicated to Asmodeus, you must not understand the history of Egorian, before The Archfiend rose to His prominence in these parts. You'll find churches still tolerated, to Erastil and... um... Sarenrae as well. I'm sure there are others, but they slip the mind at present. You simply need to locate them in the poorer districts." He looks at Hourpen briefly, but reconsiders saying anything.
"If you don't mind a personal question. How committed are you to this? Isn't it enough to turn over your discoveries to the authorities, and let them assume the risk?"
"Oh, you are considered equal to the others? Duly noted. Allustan failed to mention any of you by name."
Mortimer cries out suddenly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He looks at Solrisa and says, "Sorry..." In order to derail the attention he might have garnered from his outburst he adds, "Hey Tynan! Don't you have a fancy hat? Maybe you can lend it to -- Penfold -- might make it easier for all of us to maneuver around this city."
He turns to Eligos, and introduces everyone else to him by name (mostly accurately).
Rrriiiiiiiiight... She's still covered from neck to toe in plate armor!
He glances under the table to see what might be the source of the furry brush.
Eligos brings out a bone-colored pipe, and a deep purple sachet. Scooping out some tabac, he tamps down an appropriate amount, then lights a thin wooden stick from a nearby candle to bring fire to his smoke. He occasionally dots his speech with a wave of his pipe, setting it down on its stand at times. The room's air takes on a slight vanilla bourbon overtone.
Nice! I'll have to get some fresh leaf here in town to augment my meager supply... Ascaria can't recall the last time he enjoyed a smoke, but he holds off now as well not wanting to stink put the room with his cheap tobacco.
"Yes, Egorian should be able to accommodate your shopping needs, as long as you're industrious enough to visit the different quarters. Eri, is it? You're right, in that Hung, Drawn, and Quartered is well enough known, but you're unlikely to sleep well, for its location near the docks. I'd suggest the Crooked House. A friend of mine there, Tarquin, would see to your needs, and likely provide you a discount upon mentioning my name." The man looks pleased with himself, as he takes several puffs.
"As for churches not dedicated to Asmodeus, you must not understand the history of Egorian, before The Archfiend rose to His prominence in these parts. You'll find churches still tolerated, to Erastil and... um... Sarenrae as well. I'm sure there are others, but they slip the mind at present. You simply need to locate them in the poorer districts." He looks at Hourpen briefly, but reconsiders saying anything.
"If you don't mind a personal question. How committed are you to this? Isn't it enough to turn over your discoveries to the authorities, and let them assume the risk?"
"Thanks for the help!" Ascaria says brightly. He looks toward Sol, but waves his hand over the entire party "I think we're pretty committed really. Not every day a black dragon and god knows what else impinges on our little community. No, I don't think the authorities will take this as seriously as it warrants."
"We have some evidence, but maybe not enough to convince those with real power." Ascaria can't, for the moment, even think of who that would be. Who would act as we can act?
Mortimer's sudden cry startles Eligos, and possibly others at the table. When the giant ducks his head under the table, the room suddenly erupts in a foul stench. The stench seems to be coming from Mortimer himself.
You witness the point-blank elevation of a skunk's tail, which strikes you in the lap. The tail descends, and the skunk retreats quickly away from any feet it sees.
Although he manages to keep down the peanut butter, he reels from the oily and thick stench and falls out of his chair to the floor in an oversized whimpering ball of leather, metal and flesh.
"Augh!" he whimpers, eyes watering. "Could use ... some help..." he weakly moans.
Eligos stands, then bows to look under the table as Mortimer just did. "Not good! The yelling likely set him on guard. That would be Felix, my familiar. He patrols my halls at night, nocturnal thing that he is. I'm sorry, I should have told you to keep your voices low, but I assumed you already understood evening etiquette." Eligos looks with dismay on Mortimer, before waving his hand a second time, and cleaning off the giant. The smell, however, lingers. Quite potently, too.
Eligos takes Solrisa's hand, and escorts her from her seat next to Mortimer, to one adjacent to his own towards the head of the table.
"Alright, where were we? Ah, yes. Ascaria was answering about your call to duty here. I can't find a reasonable argument, so I will trust you as Allustan trusts you. His is hard-earned, I can tell you, so you must be doing something right." He pats Solrisa's rather-manly hand, and smiles, first at her, then at you all.
"Well, I suppose you should all be off. Do you have any further questions for me? I will be out and about on my research, but leave word with our footman, and Reginald should be able to coordinate any visits you require. In the evenings, you should have better luck."
'Evening etiquette' my ass. Who doesn't warn guests about the resident skunk? And what the Hells is it doing in the dining area anyway? There should be health codes about that -- even in this wretched town.
Fuming and thoroughly embarrassed, Mortimer grits his teeth and says, "Thanks," to Eligos, standing and brushing himself off. "I'll see myself out," he says through clenched teeth, making a wide berth around Felix as he heads for the door.
Gladly and with great relief, he takes his leave of the dining hall and out of the three story mansion. He waits for the others just outside to gather the carriage and see where they all might be heading.
I wonder if there's a cemetery around here.
Hourpen listens along quietly, realizing that a larger city will me larger problems.. At Eligos attention the halfling concentrates a bit on the man's hesitation.
Eri hops up ready to help Mort with, whatever, but stops short as soon as the smell hits him. Skunk. No thank you.
”Well, I suppose you should all be off.”
"Thank you very much for the info. Crooked House sounds perfect. We'll be in touch."
Eri waits for everyone else to gather.
"Hey Tynan! Don't you have a fancy hat? Maybe you can lend it to -- Penfold -- might make it easier for all of us to maneuver around this city."
Tynan give Mort a questioning look, but doesn't answer until the group has departed from the mansion. As they walk, he moves near the large man so they can speak.
"Try to avoid talking about any enchanted items we posess to people we don't know well. It's not unlikely that we'd be shanked in an alley just so they could take them." Tynan pauses briefly, the gives his head a tilt. "Also, who the hell is 'Penfold', and why would I let him use my hat?"
Hourpen shrugs as he looks toward Tynan, motioning toward himself.
"I think he may mean me."
”Well, I suppose you should all be off.”"Thank you very much for the info. Crooked House sounds perfect. We'll be in touch."
"Yes, thank you for your warm hospitality!" and a stinking Mort...
He wonders if an application of deep red wine on Mort's smelly frame will help, but he doesn't douse the big man in the fine home. He'll wait until they're in the streets again to bring it up.
Eligos escorts you to the front door, pausing by a dragonchess board on a sideboard. Or rather, what appears to be a dragonchess board. He lifts the top part of the board, revealing a number of jars of powder. He takes a small amount of a silver-colored dust, and brushes his hands off in the direction of Mortimer, while intoning a sing-song like lyric.
Mortimer no longer carries the smell of skunk. In fact, he doesn't smell like much of anything. The pleasant smell of sweat that often accompanies his more aggressive moments is absent. The less pleasant smell of road travel, same. It almost offends the senses, the absence of smell.
He bids you a good night, as Reginald takes over, and escorts you to the gates, where he indicates the streets that will guide you through the night air to your destination, The Crooked House Tavern. Maurice hears your plans, so concludes that Able Carter's is no longer required in their wagon service to you all, unless you wish to continue it?
...
Your travel in the city carries you from, not towards, the central Thrune Square. The Crooked House Tavern sits comfortably just off the grand plaza of Southgate, a more upscale marketplace nestled between the middle class Briarpatch District, the upper class Thorntown District, and the Wall itself, and one of its three southern entrances.
For the late hour, the Crooked House is still running pretty robustly. A stern-looking half-orc mans the door, giving each of you a look-over as you enter. He looks at both Solrisa and Tynan, and points at their weapons, wagging his finger to be clear that weapons aren't to be unsheathed under this roof. Towards the back of the common room, a group of three merchants sits and talks quietly. In the southwest corner of the large room, a halfling plays a flute, while an attractive Chelish woman dances slowly. An obvious alcoholic sits at the bar, holding out a cup which another beautiful woman, Varisian perhaps, fails to refill. A wiry man works behind the counter, counting out papers, and marking a ledger with a peacock quill. He looks up, only after the half-orc grunts at him.
"Oh! Good evening! I'm a lucky man, if you're fixing to drink tonight, luckier if you're fixing to lodge. How may I help?"