It's a Long Way to the Top - Hell's Vengeance (Inactive)

Game Master Leedwashere

As we're expecting/hoping for a rescue, I figure I'll stay there too.

Muziel is happy to wait from his post in the sheriff's office.

Jail sleeping suits Penleope. Must likely to involve a fight

While Cimri goes to the jail, Ismene returns to her room at the Asmodean temple. In the safety and privacy of her small cell, she sits down with her legs crossed under her and prays to Asmodeus for strength and guidance. Even in that uncomfortable position, she soon falls asleep sitting up.

Cimri Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Kolaiah Perception: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1
Muziel Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Penelope Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

For those sleeping at the Jail, the night passes a little uncomfortably, but uneventfully. The prisoner is still there when the sun rises, and if any plans happened during the night they either weren't executed or nobody noticed. Everyone can get a full night's rest to recover HP and abilities (if applicable). I'm not sure if I covered this before, but there's another minor house rule I like to use. Add your Con bonus (if any) to your HD to determine the amount of HP recovered for resting.

As people are just finishing with their morning routines, getting ready for the day, there's a quiet, but insistent, knocking on the Jail's front door. Cimri gives everyone else a raised eyebrow look and opens it with one hand while resting the other on the handle of one of her daggers.

Once the door is opened a thin, wiry man with greasy hair and a toothpick between his teeth slips into the jailhouse lobby. He nods his head at everyone. "You folks're the ones takin' over here now the Sheriff's gone, yeah?"

Those who didn't stay the night at the Jail can feel free to have arrived early and already be there, or arrive just now, or do something else entirely

Yep, that be us. Penelope calls out, running her fingers through her black hair and wondering if another bath is in order.

"Excellent, excellent," the man says, rubbing his hands enthusiastically and flicking his gaze between each person, trying to size everyone up. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ingoe Zoags." He subtly inclines his head in a feigned almost-bow. "Most people just call me Mister Ingoe. I run the docks just north of town, see?" He flicks his toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue while he brushes an errant lock of greasy hair from his face.

"Pretty much everything that comes in and out of Longacre by the Whisper River comes through my docks, you dig it?" He presses a hand to his chest and puts on an obviously faked expression of meekness. "I'm nothing more than a concerned citizen. There's trouble afoot around here, and I'd like to make sure that I'm on the winning side." He looks at Penelope, specifically, and winks. "I think we both want to put all this trouble behind us, right? Perhaps we can work out a way to help each other?"

"Hm... Mister Ingoe, what kind of help are you talking about?" Muziel takes off his hat and scratches his head, uncertain of what use this Ingoe could be. "I mean, I like your spirit and all. You've definitely come to the right people. You know, it's hard to find good elixirs and reagents in this little town, but I'm sure some of those things go through your dock. If you can track down useful items, I'm sure we'd take a look."

local: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12just seeing if Penelope recognizes him from her olden days

Penelope will walk up next to Muziel, crossing her arms, looking at Zoags with a wiry smile Is that what're suggesting... trade? she asks sarcastically.

"Trade in a manner of speaking, yes," he says, smoothly. "I wasn't necessarily thinking of physical goods, although I can certainly keep an eye out for whatever you might be looking for." His voice hushes a little. "What I came here to talk about, though, is information. There's an undeniable revolutionary spirit going on around here, but almost every letter in or out of town passes under my nose, you dig it? If certain pillars of the community are maybe moonlighting as revolutionaries, they might be keeping contacts which you folks might want to know about." He waggles his eyebrows, then stiffens up and stuffs his hands in his pockets. The toothpick dances back to the side of his mouth on which it started when he came in.

"But it's a bit of a long walk to the docks, you see, and it ain't running along if I'm not there. I gotta know that my patriotic spirit is appreciated, you dig it? A man can only do what he can afford to in these troubled times. But if we had a recurring deal to make sure that lost time doesn't break my business? Something like, say, ten gold a week..." he trails off, shrugging and looking for reactions to his proposition.

Penelope sees the massive potential, even though 10 gold a week sounds like a huge sum to her, growing up in the gutter like she has. She looks to the others I ain't much of the negotiator, Master Zoags... then back to their guest, running her tongue across one of her larger teeth, as if cleaning it of something tasty. I just help make sure deals are kept.

She'll pause to see if anyone steps in, other wise she'll suggest taking the offer up the chain.

Muziel suddenly sees the possibilities that were available, and gets very excited. Though he would like to negotiate the sum. Being rather incompetent at negotiation, he tries to confer with the others.

"Psst - what about offering him 1 gold per day - that's 7 gold a week! And maybe we can get the Archbaron to foot the costs."

Shrugging at those that remain silent, Penelope reaches into pouch and pulls out seven gold, and pressing it into the dock master's hand. Seven gold as our little Greed suggests. If you find anything good you can have the other 3 as a bonus, and we'll talk to the higher ups about making it permanent. Deal?

diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21 Hey she is diplomatic!!!

"Couldn't have said it better myself!" whispers Muziel approvingly. In fact, he definitely would've said it much worse.

Zoags mulls over the counter-offer for a moment before nodding and smiling. "I'll take it," he says. The dock master quickly and expertly makes the money disappear into his clothing with one hand while pulling a slightly dog-earned envelope out from the inside pocket of his cloak with the other.

"You folks made a good choice, I already got something you might want to look at right here." He grins with an expression that makes it clear he wasn't going to bring it up if an agreement couldn't be reached. "The town doc's someone a lot of people look up to, and she was sending this to someone in Remesiana. I don't know what's in it, but it's a shame it got lost in transit, you dig it?" He hands Penelope the envelope, addressed to one Nivianne Giatanno, gives her another wink, then slips back out of the jailhouse. "Feel free to stop by the docks anytime, and we can see if there's any interesting or useful items that might have never arrived, too," he adds, directed at Muziel, before he disappears through the door.

local: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 she knows NOTHING.

"Here, let me see, let me see!" Muziel hops up and down, trying to get a view of the letter that Penelope has.

But at the end of it, he's not really impressed. "Okay, so the doctor owes some taxes and will have to close up shop. Juicy gossip for the townsfolk, but doesn't seem to matter to us, does it?"

In case it's relevant, Muziel makes sure that their prisoner is NOT hearing any of this stuff.

"It's pretty underwhelming, yeah," Cimri agrees. "But if she's getting desperate enough to send a letter begging for help, it's probably worth keeping an eye on her going forward. She might start to feel lost enough decide to seek help from the Glorious Reclamation, or perhaps we can use this knowledge of her plight to force her to be a voice for our side, somehow. Zoags is right that a lot of people in this town look up to her.

"Anyway, it's been almost a whole day since we put that barmaid in the slammer. If we're going to hang onto her as bait, we should probably feed her, I guess. I can take a stroll 'round to Kemmaino's Market to get some basic foods while you guys wake up Envy, get a hold of Wrath at her temple, and maybe figure out what we want to do with our newfound power today."

"Well, I'm excited to have someone to sell things to! I'm thinking Ingoe is going to be a good trading partner. We've collected a lot of things. I think it's time to turn anything we don't want to keep into extra gold. The other thing we need to do is figure out what some of these magic items are. Maybe Razelago can figure them out?"

Muziel intends to do the following: Take magic items to Razelago to see if he can identify them, and then sell unwanted items to Mister Ingoe for gold.

So.... on the selling point, any chance I can just start selling the loot on the loot list, and distributing the proceeds? It would make bookkeeping much easier.

I'll go with you, Muziel. Be the packmule of sorts. she'll wave to the silent others, sure they are dumbstruck at her amazing diplomacy skills.

First Stop:

Razelago isn't at the Ash House at first when Muziel and Penelope stop by, but after a few moments, timed almost perfectly to be just before they feel inclined to give up and leave, the Devil teleports into the room with a wet popping noise. With the mashup of baby and insect parts it's hard to tell an expression with any accuracy, but his voice suggests a mild annoyance when Muziel makes his request.

"Identifying magic properties isn't really my wheelhouse," he admits. "I'd suggest visiting the home of Tealan Ruckleer. I've heard that he was a battle mage in the Queen's service before he retired here. The man keeps to himself, but he might be persuaded to help. I don't know much about the man, actually, his home seems to be warded against teleportation. I don't think he knows of me, he might just be paranoid. If he won't help you can always try the Wilmore House, but I'd be careful there. There's something off about her, and she'd the only one that ever seems to notice me when I'm invisible... but as far as I can tell she hasn't told anybody. I don't know what her game is, or what's the deal with her cat, and frankly I find the whole thing disturbing."

Second Stop:

Ingoe Zoags listens thoughtfully as he looks over some of the objects to be sold. "I've got some contacts in Remesiana that can move this stuff pretty easily, I think. I'll take this stuff off your hands and flip it down there, no problem. Those city-type nobles never learned how to haggle, you dig it? I've got an empty barrel or two here we can use, so let's load it up."

For the time being, you can use Zoags to sell things for half price, no problem. That may change as events proceed, but I'll let you know if/when it does.

"I don't know why you're all so worried about Nissa Wilmore. She's funny! We have an understanding. Where do you think we got Penelope's healing stick from?"

Muziel shrugs. "But we can always use some more magical allies. Let's see what this Tealan Ruckleer fellow is about. Would be good to know if the battle mage is loyal or a rebel."

Muziel reports on the various activities that have occurred, including the stealthy efforts to help Caggan and his resulting transformation into a werepig. "So yeah, that last part really came out of nowhere. But we have no evidence of his transformation, aside from a few hairs! Any idea where we can go next to learn more about Caggan? Like maybe where his home is, or who he hung out with? Seems like both him and the missus were put down in the last fight so nobody's home - I mean, unless he had kids?"

Muziel also shows Razelago some skull-shaped onyxes. "We found these in the sheriff's office. Any idea who they might've belonged to or what they're worth? I think if these were seized from someone, maybe they'll be an ally?"

And Muziel shows Razelago a bill of ownership from the sheriff's office. "The note says, "Halfling, Male, 20 years, Service Trained. Missing toe on left foot. Responds to the name 'Ardin.'" Any idea who that is?"

After getting some information, Muziel happily talks with Ingoe Zoags about unloading some things before meeting Tealan Ruckleer.

A battle mage? Sounds like something we should check out. If things go south, we should have a feeling of where anyone able to level whole streets would fall.

After Razelago tells us to leave him alone or provides some answers, we can drop by and sell the bits we have and then off to a battle mage.

Razelago's apparent annoyance evaporates completely as he takes in Muziel's report on the happenings, and especially with Caggan's sudden transformation. "Alas that I wasn't present," he says. "These eyes record everything they witness. I believe it's common, though, for those afflicted with lycanthropy to revert to their original nature upon expiration. Just another one of the ways that rooting them out can be so frustrating." He pauses, pondering the second part of the question. "I believe the man lived upstairs to his tavern. I don't recally ever seeing any children the times I was there, but he was extremely close with his employees. Wereboars tend to form extroardinarily tight relationships, or so I've heard. Beyond them, as the bartender of the more popular watering hole in town, he had interactions with -- and was likely on friendly terms with -- almost everyone here at some point or another. I expect he kept his secret closely guarded, though, and it's possible that not even those closest to him knew what he was hiding. Unless they shared in it, I suppose. I believe were-creatures are almost never found alone."

His apparent interest in the news also seems to extend to a more favorable attitude towards looking at the additional items Muziel asks about. "I can't say that I know the intended owner of those stones," he says, in regard to the onyxes. "But given the most common usage of that particular stone, and the shape into which they've been carved, I'd say it extremely likely that they were intended as material components for the raising of minor undead. I'd say they have an intrinsic value is probably fairly small, perhaps a dozen or so gold each, but if you can sniff out who they were confiscated from they might be worth more to them.

"I also can't say I know of any Halflings that go by 'Ardin. There are handful of Slips in town, but if any of them are escaped slaves I would expect them to be going by an alias. It seems more likely that this escaped slave would have left to seek out the detestable Bellflower Network. You may as well hang onto the bill in case the Slip ever turns up. Having the bill without the slave, or vice versa, is basically worthless to anybody."

Thank you boss Penelope nods to the devil, once they are out of the room, she'll suggest selling the normal stuff while they got a moment, maybe see if the battle mage is willing to help and then check out the dead barkeep's home.

Muziel agrees with Penelope, and starts picking out things to distribute to party memebers and to sell. After that, the next stop was Teagan.

Tealan Ruckleer's home is a sturdy cottage, and one of the handful of buildings in Longacre situated outside the town's walls. Except for Louslik's Tannery and Scarlet Crown, it's also the farthest from any one of the gates. The dirt road to the house passes in front of the old mayor's residence, the house and grounds of which show the signs of many months of neglect. Ruckleer's home and yard, by contrast, is quite well kept.

The muffled sounds of booted feet on a wooden floor follow shortly after knocking on the retired mage's front door, and soon a six inch by two inch slot slides open in the door at about normal head height for a human. Eyes surrounded by heavy crows feet peer through the slot, quickly finding Penelope's. "This is private property," admonishes the wary voice from within as the eyes narrow slightly. "What does a young woman like you want all the way out here?"

Penelope tries to be courteous Just to talk sir. Plus my good friend here... she points down to where he might not be able to see our gnome ... would really be liking help with something magical in nature.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5 LOL I knew the last one a fluke! The above attempt probably through gritted teeth while kicking a small child :)

Muziel doffs his hat momentarily. "Uh, yeah, from one mage to another!" says Muziel. "Er, not that I know as much about magic as you do. Which is why I'm here! Let me show you!"

After an unsurprisingly awkward introduction, Muziel begins showing some of the magical goodies he had discovered, hoping to pique the mage's interest.

"I'm not exactly sure what these things are, but I bet you do." He pulls out Caggan's Cloak, a tapering stick with blue veins, and 10 sticky gelatinous blocks for inspection. "Just the first of many items. Any way we can make a deal? A weekly salary in exchange for your magical knowledge?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18

The eyes raise up a bit in the slot trying to get a better view farther down. "Hang on a minute, I can't see that low," says the voice. "I wasn't expecting small folks when I put this slot in. Should probably install another one lower down for times like this, but that doesn't help much right now, does it?" The voice chuckles. "But let me see, here. A real pale lady and a," another short pause, "a Gnome by the sound of him. You're some of the Baron's new agents, right? I'll let you in and we can talk easier where I can see you both. Neither of you are squeamish, right?"

There's the sound of several locks being undone on the other side of the door, including at least one muttered passphrase in a language neither of you understand, followed by the door swinging open. Tealan Ruckleer stands before you dressed in comfy-looking robes and slippers. This is shortly followed by an awful moan from behind him and the previously heard, but no longer muffled, sounds of boots on the floor.

"If you're who I think you are, then you've already met the new bodyguard I picked up off the street late last night," he says, stepping to the side to allow entry and revealing the drained, shambling form of Zaggar of Vulture Crag animated as a zombie. "It's fine, Stinky, go back to your room." The Hobgoblin corpse moans again, then slowly shambles out of the entryway. "I'd be very appreciative if Stinky could stay just between us three chickens," he adds as he closes the door after letting the pair inside. "Under normal circumstances I'd not really be interested or in need of any sort of steady employment, I'm afraid. Retirement has been pretty good to me. But if this Iomedaean crusade takes over town, I don't think they and I would get along very well, as you could probably imagine. I suppose I could take on a salary, but I'd be just as happy to help out as a case-by-case consultant. It depends on how often you think you'd need my help. We can talk terms, or I can tell you what you got there for five gold. Ten if you're worried it might be cursed."

Muziel looks to Zaggar, then to Tealan, then Zaggar, then Tealan again. "Woah, did they teach you that back in battle school? You know, I wish Wrath had come along. I think she'd have appreciated this."

Muziel steps inside the entryway upon invitation, then looks for a table to set down the items he pulled out. "I know we were talking gold, but I think I have something that'll really excite you. Check this out." Muziel digs out the 7 skull-shaped onyxes and sets them on the table as well. "Recognize these? Pretty, don'cha think? Seems like they'd be pretty useful for someone with your skills."

He gives the mage a moment to admire the gems before continuing. "So like I said earlier, I'm kind of a student of magic. And I've been trying to work on fusing clockwork machines and animals, you know." Muziel leaves out the part where he tried similar things with halflings. "It's been going great, really! But . . . I think I could use a little more guidance. I figure, there's got to be some relationship between what I'm doing and creating undead, right? So here's what I'm thinking. If I give you a good price on these gems, will you help us identify whatever magic items we find, and teach me a thing or two about magic and undead?"

Yep, I'm trying to set up Muziel's plan to dip in a caster class.

Did we all come along? If so, then I'll try and be unobtrusive, as magic talk isn't my thing either. Although the animated hobgoblin would amuse Kolaiah.

These various stops are mostly in different directions from each other, so if you want to have caught up with them and go along that's fine with me. Cimri would probably be back from getting food for the prisoner by now and could stay behind at the jail to make sure someone keeps an eye on the place while you join the others.

"Not exactly," says Ruckleer enigmatically with a small smile at the question of whether he's learned the ability to animate dead at 'battle school.' His expression quickly changes to something much more serious as Muziel produces the onyxes.

"I paid for seven stones just like these a little over a year ago," he muses. "I had long since assumed that I'd either been ripped off be the seller or the shipment had been lost to river piracy en route. I'd be very curious to know how you came by them, and if these are the very same ones I ordered." He rubs his chin, thoughtfully for a moment.

"How would you feel toward an even trade?" he asks. "I feel like I already paid for these once, and so would rather not part with currency for them a second time. In exchange, however, I could provide you and your colleagues with free item identification whenever you need it, as well as doing my best to help you become more of a master of your art. This battle mage nonsense is a convenient notion that I've not spent any effort to disabuse people of. It is true that I spent time serving in the army, but Necromancy has always been my specialty. It's a much subtler magic than the more flashy schools like Evocation and Enchantment, and it takes a great deal of finesse to manipulate a creature's vital spark. If you're interested in learning, I'm sure there's a lot I could teach you."

Yeah sir, no reason you can't have been with us

Penelope loves the zombie, poking it, making a face or two. Sounds like a good deal to me, but you're the magic guy Muziel, so it is up to you.

"Deal!" agrees Muziel. He sticks out a hand to give Tealan a handshake to cement the deal. "Hey, Tealan. You know the townsfolk here. Where's a good place to go knocking if we're looking for some like-minded citizens who wouldn't appreciate the Iomedeans taking control here?"

Zombie Zaggar moans occasionally as Penelope pokes it, receiving a glance from the creator but not drawing any comment on the behavior.

Ruckleer reaches down to shake Muziel's hand. "I'm afraid I don't know the citizens as well as you might think," he admits, shrugging, as he scoops the handful of onyxes into a pouch on his belt. "I generally try to keep a healthy dose of separation between me and them whenever possible. Smaller-minded folks, especially those of the religious bent, don't usually take too kindly to the discovery of a Necromancer in their midst and so I've just played it safe by avoiding them all except when necessary."

He cracks his knuckles, incants a few arcane words of power and scans the items Muziel laid out on the table, concentrating for several seconds as his eyes glow with a soft radiance while he studies the auras of each item in turn.

"You definitely have some magic items here," he announces once his spell has finished. "The cloak makes the wearer slightly resistant to harmful effects (Cloak of Resistance +1), while the other is a mostly-depleted wand of shocking grasp (CL 2, 16 charges left). I'm confident that neither of them are cursed, too. The cubes don't radiate magic, but now that I've been seeing them for a while..." his voice trails off as he uses a fingernail to slice off a small corner of one of the gelatinous blocks. He raises that tiny amount of it to his nose, sniffs at it, then places it on his tongue, swishing it around his mouth like a noble tasting wine. "As I thought," he concludes. "Definitely some doses of Pesh. It can make you feel strong for a while, but be careful with that stuff. It's pretty addictive and you may start to lose your grip on reality if you take too much of it."

"Pesh! Hm... wonder if there's someone in town who uses this stuff. I bet they'd kill to have access to so much of this." Muziel spends a little more time chatting and learning from Teagan, and then promises to come back for more lessons in the future.

I think that counts as a day of activities for Muziel.

Same goes for Penelope, though she'll try for another bath at one point or another.

Oh wait, looking at the bartender's apartment above the bar was something she wanted to do. She'll suggest that to the group.

Muziel agrees to check out Caggan apartment.

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Lead on!"

Muziel Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
Penelope Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
Kolaiah Perception: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (14) - 2 = 12 edited in after discovering Kolaiah's post came in while I was working on mine :P

The upstairs portion of the Last Stand is a fairly comfortable living space surrounded by four bedrooms, three smaller ones and one larger with an enormous bed. The large room and two of the small rooms remain in mostly good order, while the third small room is noticeably devoid of any personal effects whatsoever, including clothes. The personal effects left behind in the others make it plain, however, that the largest room belonged to Caggan, while the smaller rooms belonged to his employees. Curiously, the search of the place finds two differently sized and styled sets of women's clothes in Caggan's wardrobe, with an empty space suggesting a third had been recently taken at about the same time as the third smaller room was emptied.

In addition to the missing items from the third room and Caggan's wardrobe, one of the floorboards in Caggan's room had been left pried up, and a dusty box sits opened and empty on the large bed, with three circular areas inside that are dust-free. Beyond a dozen gold pieces worth of jewelry (none of it silver) left behind in the two smaller rooms, there doesn't appear to much of worth to find, in terms of both monetary value and informational value.

"Possibly he ate the one and was thus able to sell off all of her possessions?"

Sounds yummy she'll pass show the note and dagger as she finds them. Didn't one of the barmaids get away?

At the Last Stand

"Yoo hoo! Anybody home?" Ismene shoulders open the door to the Last Stand, finding the common room empty but hearing activity upstairs.

"Wrath, we're up here!" calls Muziel as she hears Ismene announce her entrance. "Hey, we got something for you. Remember this cloak from Caggan? Turns out it's magically enchanted to protect you from harm. Try it on!" Muziel will hand Ismene the Cloak of Resistance +1.

He then inspects the silver dagger. "The folks here must've known Caggan's secret, and kept the dagger in case Caggan unleashed his inner beast! Also, it's kind of funny how none of the jewelry in this place is silver, even though it's commonplace stuff. Maybe some of the barmaids are also were-creatures? We should test that out with our captive! Ready to go back and try?"

Muziel proposes buying a silver necklace and give it to the barmaid to see if she'll wear it. He's done exploring this room.

How bout I just stab her a little with the knife? Cheaper and all.

Leaving her basket of strawberries on the bar, Sister Ismene joins the others upstairs. "What are you all doing up here?" she asks. "And what's this about a cloak?"

Accepting the proffered cloak, she drapes it around her shoulders. "Oooh, I like this!" New clothes weren't something Ismene ever prioritized, but free was a price that was tough to argue with. She remembered seeing this same cloak on Caggan - it was a nice cloak. She'd always thought it seemed oddly tasteful (and expensive-looking) for a gruff guy like Caggan. And now it would be oddly tasteful for a gruff girl like her. "Thanks. What else did you find? Oh, by the way, I brought strawberries. They're downstairs."

Is there a physical description of the cloak from the AP? If not, I can always supply my own. To some extent, I already have.

How bout I just stab her a little with the knife? Cheaper and all.

"Wait, so if you stab the barmaid and she's normal, she bleeds, and if you stab her and she's a were-creature she also bleeds. I'm not sure that solves anything. Though, do you think you could tell from taste whether the barmaids were were-creatures?" Muziel was joking. Mostly.

But the talk of food is immediately distracting. "Strawberries! Sounds delicious. We found lots of women's clothes here. You might as well keep anything you like. Looks like someone cleared out of this room recently but we're not sure who. Could be the barmaid that got away, or someone else. And somebody knew about Caggan and his transformation, I'd say." Muziel gestures toward the knife and note, before heading downstairs to munch on some fruit.

Huh, guess you got a point there... so if she was a werething, I should stab her with a normal dagger? The locket idea is less complicated then I guess.

About taste Every tastes different, not sure it is lifestyle or just general birth. The one I drank from was tasty, but no idea if that meant anything.

Also point out the dust free circles in the box. Very curious what those are...