MoF's Hells Rebels

Game Master MordredofFairy

With his slight lead on the others, Nissim has a few extra seconds to rest before the others arrive. He's managed to mostly recover and is beginning to think about the next steps they will need to take.

We can wait here for a few hours probably. Hopefully that will be enough time to foil the immediate search for us. But overnight may not be possible. After dark we will also have the curfew to contend with. We will need to think of a better place and quickly.

Might Nissim know of that very desirable 3rd door?

K Local: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

I guess he really HAS been leading the quiet life :-/

May not be so much an issue of leading a quiet life, and more one of finance. This IS a high-class establishment. Companionships come with a price tag beyond what you casually caugh up unless you're among the social upper class. That being said, you don't know of the third door, but together with Juliette, you work out that the curfew MIGHT work in your favor. Because it's bad for business. After it starts, only few new customers visit, until the curfew ends again. As such, it's likely the overnight rate is not much higher than a short-time fee, as the room would likely be vacant otherwise. There's still plenty of time today before the curfew, so by all means, move on once you feel ready, just saying it's an option(among many)

Ah, a 24 hour establishment. Makes sense of course. Nissim really does lead the quiet life, until today at least.

Varuzhan gently sets down the rebel when they get to their destination, then takes some time to catch his breath. He had gotten an odd look here or there while he traveled, but hopefully nothing that drew too much attention. Without the cloak, the man could be just another incidental victim of the crowds or Asmodean agents.

Varuzhan searches the rebel's things, hoping to accomplish two things. First, he just wanted to identify who this person was. He searches for any personal effects that might give a clue. Second, he is hoping for a healing draught of sufficient strength to bring him back to consciousness. Right now, there were a lot of questions, and not a lot of answers. The man could help change that equation.

Miranda's eyes follow the strange device as it leaves her possession, which Boros seemed to have noted! "Oh.." she actually blushes a little. Good thing she was covered in illusionary gnome! "I was just curios as to what it was! Haven't seen those types of gun-wands before."

Lily finally looks around once they've stood for a moment, leaving her with time to gather her thoughts. Seeing Varuzhan and Nissim still nearby... she holds out the jar that she found. The pair were both interested in herbs... and maybe by extension, potions and poultices. If anyone would know if what she'd gathered was worth keeping, they would.

Regardless, she notes the bust above the door, and smiles softly, realizing where they were. It wasn't a big smile, by any means, but breaking through all of the bleakness like a ray of sunlight was still the ultimate result.

This was where Hannah had taken her for their second date. Hannah had rented them a private room and they'd spent the night talking about just nearly everything. Songbird Hall had been worried sick; she'd went to the Devil's Nursery and then not come home until an hour after dawn.

"This place should be safe... if a little costly."

Varuzhan digs through the contents of the pouch, and the possessions of the rebel you saved. He finds a letter, a key made of a strange metal, a potion(of cure-light-wounds...one of you would make the check), some coins(3 Gold) and a scroll(of fireball...same, someone would have made the check).

Moments later, Lily asks him and Nissim about the contents of the jar. Opening it and taking a look, Nissim quickly realizes the contents are poisonous.
N-C-Alch: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
V-P-Herb: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Juliette, watching the street for patrols, signals an all-clear to the others, as a group of Dottari move out of sight turning the corner at the end of the street.

Boros reloads his weapon, under the watchful gnome eyes of Miranda, who is trying to understand the firewand by force of pure curiosity.

This is my post for whenever we get moving. I'm sleeping a lot, and don't want to hang things up waiting on me to wake up and keep things flowing. If there's no movement for a bit, assume he's braced against the wall, resting.

Seeing the bard signal that it's time to move again, Boros checks that his cloak is shut properly, for whatever good it does, and follows the rest of the group out of the alley, across the street, and straight to the bawdy house. He ignores any looks or comments directed at him or his allies, instead keeping a look out for an unwelcome official types.

Making Perception check to keep watch for anyone that might be an issue for the group.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"All right!" Miranda looks up at the establishment. Not a place she had ever been to - but again that included most places this side of the river! But hmm. I need to fix this while the illusion lasts. she thought, aware of all the ways ill-gotten goods could help to track down thieves. "I'm going to run a quick little errand then I'll come back here okey?"

Basically Miranda is looking to see if she can find something out of lead to buy/joink and keep the Unholy Symbol in while her totally-not-bloody gnome illusion holds!

Varuzhan is pleased to find a potion, but disappointed when he learns what it is. "Feh. This curative elixir will close some wounds, but it won't be enough to bring this rebel to consciousness -- not alone, anyway." Assuming he's at more than -9 HP?

But the letter is much more interesting. "Just what I expected." He does not hesitate to pry, and then gather the attention of those around him. "This letter to his son says that this man is a member of the Sacred Order of Archivists and was investigating a rebel group called the Silver Ravens. He claims that the Fair Fortune Livery was once a hideout. If that's the same place as the old livery, I've heard rumors at the protest today that that place is haunted, but now it seems more likely those rumors are cover for the rebels clamoring around in there. A "haunted" house is likely a fine place to lay low, once we've overstayed our welcome here."

As Miranda talks about leaving, Varuzhan's eyes narrow in suspicion. He checks his coinpurse to make sure it's there. Given the way she quickly snatched the other fallen man's goods, he could only assume she had greedy hands. "An errand, you say? And I'm to expect that you'll return again? Well, you'll find no better place to have those wounds tended to than by returning to us." They were fugitives now, and Varuzhan wants to persuade them to stick together.

"Anyway, let's see what this ... Maiden's head... has to offer," he says disdainfully.

Edited to add a few more things.

"Sure!" I guess *some* suspicion is warranted? Miranda beams and attempts unloads her back on Varuzhan. "You can hold on to this 'Locate Object and Kill Me' bait if you want something for safekeeping while I'm gone?"

Varuzhan eyes the fell halfling's strange gift. "No, I think you'd better find a way to dispose of that," he agrees, understanding her motives better. Though he does worry about what may happen to her.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Gnome-Miranda's grin widdens. "Thought so. I'm gonna see if I can't find something lead and stuff it in - or stash it somewhere." She stretches a little and pokes the unconscious man gently. "See if you can't make sense of him in the meanwhile!"

2d20 ⇒ (17, 13) = 30
While Nissim has been leading a quiet life, he is plenty certain(Juliette to an lesser extent so) that establishments such as the one ahead of you are warded against scrying.
It's part of that whole "privacy" selling point. High-Class Customers (and political dealmakers) prefer certainty regarding not being observed or listened to when they do whatever is done in the rented rooms-

That is a good point! Let's see if someone points it out to Miranda as well : )

Nissim frowns slightly as attentions begin to turn toward gadgets and shopping.

We're no safer here than we were back at the scene of the fight. We've only bought ourselves a bit of time by moving, and we don't know how much time that is. We need to get inside that building immediately.

It should be warded against scrying he says watching the um, halfling trying to unload her gear onto Varuzhan. And giving our new friend that potion will need to wait as well. We can't assume he will understand his new circumstances well enough to cooperate if he regains consciousness, and we don't have time to explain.

According to our singer friend, we're clear to go now. So let's go.

Nissim starts across the street.

"Should?" Miranda winces. She didn't really like the sound of that! But on the other hand - she was really curious about both the firewand and the greycloak. What if I miss something? She weighed both scenarios against each other for a bit and decided. With a radiant smile she announced and followed Nissim. "If you think the warding is enough; I'm all for it!"

"We're not exactly important enough to scry on anyway, NOT that we should be discussing this in a public location. Even if we're away from the eyes of the Dottari and the Asmodans, there could still be prying eyes anywhere." Juliette suggests to the others who seem to have little issues admitted to breaking laws in a public area, as she follows Nissim across the street.

Lily nods, and falls into step with the others, wishing she had a mirror, and thankful that she didn't since there wasn't much she could do for it.

"True enough," agrees Varuzhan to Lady Aulamaxa's cautionary words. "I'll stay out of the way with our unconscious . . . 'friend' . . . here. Perhaps if you, the quiet girl, and my bookish companion go in first to ask for a room, it won't look too suspicious. " He gestures toward the brunette (Lily) and to Nissim as he says this. They were the normal looking ones among the bunch. And it was probably in everyone's interest if they were not associated with a winged "demon-like" creature or the unconscious body he was toting around. He did his best to hide his features, though he was not at all practiced at this. Varuzhan then returns to the rebel and picks him back up, trying as best he can to make the man look like someone who had perhaps gotten too drunk, as opposed to someone beaten to an inch of his life. Disguise: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17

Nissim nods at Varuzhan's suggestion and says to Lily "Shall we go on in first then?" offering his arm for her to take.

Lily looks first to Nissim, then the door, then his arm... then the others and then shrugs lightly, placing her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I suppose. Have you been here before?"

Now I'm just picturing it. Two women and a man walk in, followed by a Strix, a drunkard and a tief-halfling. Owners of the business: "It takes all kinds... don't worry, we don't judge."

In his somewhat dazed state, it takes Boros a few moments to realize what the fellow in the cloak is doing with the rebel. Still keeping a wary eye out for trouble, Boros steps forward to help haul the unconscious rebel and maintain the illusion that he's just passed out after a really good tavern-crawl. This incidentally gives Boros a potential excuse for his own unsteadiness, as well.

You rush on over to the other side of the street, and into the next alleyway(the one with the side entrance, which is, technically, the main entrance for most visitors), hoping to avoid people remembering your thrown-together group after seeing you enter through the front. A drunken beggar sitting in the alley entrance throws a glance your way as you pass, but is quickly disinterested again when he figures out you have no alcohol with you, focusing on the main street again without diverting further attention your way as you make your way to the back entrance.

The outer door is unlocked, and you step inside, to find a second door, on which you knock. Moments later, an elven female dressed in silk that leaves little to the imagination while not showing anything opens the door to let you step inside. Seeing your group, she bids you to wait for a short moment. You find yourself in a lavishly decorated antechamber, with pillars formed as elaborately carved silhouettes of beautiful man and woman. There is no clear source of light, but the whole chamber is dimly lit. A huge double-door leads on towards the main hall with the social area, with tables for dining and conversation, and socializing with the employs. To the side, two sets of stairs go up and down, respectively, to a multitude of rooms outfit for a variety of purposes. Before you are finished taking in all the sights, the elven courtesan wordlessly returns with the madame through a door opposite the stairs, said door only covered with a curtain of the same color as the wall. The madame is a middle-aged human woman(as rumour has it, she had been a middle-aged human woman when most of you were born, too...either her skill with make-up is magical, or she is...possibly the later, as her eyes seem to glow in a bluish hue.) smoking a pipe, and with knotted up hair.
"Why, I see why you fetched me, dear, do go and entertain our guests, I doubt your services are needed here", she dismisses the young elf, moving into your middle, turning to get a good luck at all of you.
"Now, dear potential customers...forgive my forwardness, but I can't help but notice that...this gentleman is unconscious. This small-framed lad cloaked in magic. And you are wounded.", as she points her pipe towards the rebel propped up between Varuzhan and Boros, Miranda, and Boros as well as Varuzhan in turn. "Now, everybody is equally welcome here at the Maiden's Head, and I'm not asking if you knocked this man out, nor what you are trying to hide beneath the glamour, nor how you got wounded. But I need you to be aware that if you intend to commit any crimes here, you are not welcome. As such, while we do value your privacy, your groups composition forces me to ask you, before we talk business: What have you come here to do? A mediation? An orgy? A mistake? Seeking refuge from the law? Visiting someone?"

Making Sense Motive check to see if he discern anything of significance about the the madam's words or behavior.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Boros' lips twitch upward in barely-suppressed amusement as the madam casually destroys the group's admittedly slipshod facade in just a few sentences. Since she seems willing to talk about it, however, he doesn't do anything to risk souring her reception, instead catching Varuzhan's eye and nodding questioningly in the direction of some of the larger seats scattered about the chamber.

Though he would normally speak up in response to the madam's words, his exhaustion from hours of walking in full armor, two fights, and numerous wounds that bordered unpleasantly close on being fatal have effectively robbed him of his usual urge to open his mouth and in doing so, insert his foot into it.

Lily looks first to Nissim, then the door, then his arm... then the others and then shrugs lightly, placing her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I suppose. Have you been here before?"

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 18 SON OF A *****! "Nah Miranda doesn't need 12 in Wis, I'll put the extra points in Str just to deal some early damage and carry stuff around..." I never felt so cheated by a longshot roll before :P

Miranda looked around inside the darkened room, her fell gaze unaffected by the lighting. It was a curious place - somehow cleaner and much more dirty than any bar she had ever visited. When she spotted the pillars she couldn't help but giggle a little.

When the madame entered the scene Miranda looked down and let out an annoyed groan. Should I have glamoured up a dress with a lower cut? She was mildly annoyed over the tall-folks lack of appreciation for small-folk assets. But when she looked up again to try and glare daggers - a skill she had yet to master - she couldn't help but notice the woman's strange eyes. And those were more interesting then the small earlier slight.
______________________________________________

I was thinking of hinting that we were seeking refuge from the law (since it was one of the offered options!). But she didn't actually want anyone to commit a crime while here and evading the law would be sorta just that ... So I removed that part! If someone manages to get 19 and convey whatever is in it (I'm assuming the Madame's disposition towards people lawbreaking :P) to Miranda she would try and pass on the hint using the stuff bellow!

A sly little smile grew on the gnome's face again and she mumbled. "Feels like a bit of a mistake, and I do need some meditation ..." It was hard to resist the urge to excessively blink!

Bluff (Secret Message?): 1d20 ⇒ 15

sense motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

I'd love to say "never have I felt so cheated by a fairly easy roll" but in reality this is just another disappointment in a long line of them. :-/

Know(Arcana): Glowing eyes indicate ...?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Varuzhan is taken in by the sight of the comely elven courtesan, until it dawns on him that he's gawking. He shakes it off. This is exactly the kind of corrupting filth that these human lands breed. He then awkwardly goes out of his way not to look at the woman. Instead, as she arrives, he directs his attention to the madame.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

He groans inwardly as the madame sees through every deception and ruse. "Ugh, so much for subtlety," he whispers to Boros, though just as likely loud enough for others to hear in this quiet chamber. It didn't seem to matter anyway given what she had discerned.

Instead, Varuzhan nods in agreement at Boros's suggestion, and moves toward some place in this chamber where they and their unconscious friend could sit, be it a chair or a stairway. It occurred to Varuzhan that they might make a mess of the ground, but frankly he didn't care at the moment.

Earlier: "Yes, actually. After the tour of the Opera House, and then a picnic in the park - my idea - she brought me here. It was a very good night." she says, offering a smile. She hadn't intentionally left out the woman's name, but had been thinking it only moments before, thus slipping her mind.

SM: 1d20 ⇒ 12
Diplomacy (Appeal to Human Decency): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25

"All of the above..?" Lily asks, then furrows her brow. "Wait, an orgy..?" she shakes her head, "No, no. You misunderstand." she responds as the pinkness of her irritated skin flushed just enough for the perceptive woman to probably catch with ease. "We were at the protest earlier... when things happened. People in gray cloaks attacked the guards, and then... a thing killed all of the people in gray cloaks." she responds, turning her head away slightly as her eyes fall. "We found him in an alleyway... accosted by thugs, torturing him... the others fought off the thugs and we barely managed to help him in time... and now we're here. If we aren't welcome, I understand... but the streets are..." she shakes her head, leaving the word unsafe unspoken.

"I understand if we need to leave, but with the way things are going... I'm unsure that many of us would make it home."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17 GAH!

For a moment, Juliette was glad that her disguise was mundane, and that it seemed that she had not been recognized as being disguised, even though her disguise was rather simple at best.

However, as Lily began to speak the truth of today's events, the noble woman couldn't help but apply both of her palms directly to her face with enough force to make a sharp sound and leave red marks.

1d2 ⇒ 2

Luckily, her signet ring was facing inward rather then outward, though she had effectively managed to brand herself on the left cheek.

"I suppose there is no sense in lying now." Juliette says under her breath as Lily finishes.

"My name is Juliette Aulamaxa, and I fear that the same thugs who assaulted this man we be looking for me soon enough. As I have shown them this," She indicates her signet ring, turning it around for the Madame to see. "And attempted to make a deal with them, only to fail. I do not know who most of my companions are, and we have not had a chance to speak with this man either, but we need a moment away from prying eyes and understand that this place offers privacy."

Nissim, is surprised. He hadn't expected the young woman to reply in the affirmative. It does seem a lucky break though, and one they could use about now.

"Perhaps you should be the one to speak with them then. You may have a better idea than the rest of us how to carry this off smoothly. I can also help some small amount with your efforts"

As they walk Nissim delivers a charm by touch to Lily.

+2 on Lily's diplomacy check

Varuzhan continues to observe the madame. There was something curious about her . . . Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13 . . . but he didn't think he could really place it.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Knowledge (Nobility): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29 Wasted nat 20

Juliette considers weather or not she knows anything further about the madame.

Boros carefully helps guide the unconscious rebel to the nearest seat large enough to fit three, sets him down carefully in the middle spot in an attempt to avoid reopening his critical injuries, then sinks gratefully into the open spot to the rebel's left, after adjusting the sheath of his rapier.

He also makes some effort at keeping the cleaner portions of his cloak between himself and the seat's costly fabrics, but is too wiped out by the day's events to make more than a bare minimum effort. After letting himself luxuriate in the sensation of not moving, Boros tips his head forward to look past the rebel at the other temporary packbeast. Extending his right arm in an offer of a soldier's greeting (forearm to forearm), he introduces himself quietly. "Name's Boros. Boros Black-Hand if yer feelin' formal," he adds with a weak wave of the aforementioned appendage, which is heavily stained by what looks like soot. "Nice work ya did back there, bustin' heads with yer staff. Pleasure to meet someone not mindin' a bit o' spatter in a fight."

After Lily and Juliette have finished speaking, Nissim adds "It is as they have explained. We have no unseemly plans here. We simply need a place to rest briefly and get to know each other."

Attempt to aid Lily's diplomacy check

Aid Another: Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Miranda shakes her gaze from the curious blue eyes and slinks away to join Boros and friends. Assuming they are not immediately thrown out she'll also attempt to hail down whatever passes for a waitress at the place and order something cold, something spicy, something high-proof and something napkin-y.

"Oh -" she added with a grimace "A toothpick if you have?"

With a small jump she takes a seat. Then, with a quick glare at the back of the matron, she adjusts her dress and grins at her new companions. Bound to be exciting at the very least! "Sooo ... How are you holding up?" she probes and rubs the top of her head. There was a growing bump where the clerics mace had 'said hi' and she winced a little as he touched it. I hope they have something really really cold!

Varuzhan pauses for a bit as Boros extends his arm, his instinctive suspicion of others holding him back. But they had indeed fought side by side, so he grasps it. "Varuzhan." he says, offering his name. "You fought well too, for a human. Your "gun" is an intriguing weapon."

"Quiet down!" he immediately cautions as Miranda joins them. "I see you've inherited the most . . . energetic aspects of your halfling heritage. Still, you fought courageously in the alleyway. I am Varuzhan." He seems to not answer the question about how he's "holding up." He finds the answer to that question rather obvious.

"Eh - " Miranda replies with a shrug but does actually quiet down a fair bit. With a grin she continues "- at least I kept most of the mess inside. You two are probably gonna leave a puddle!"

With a quick look around, presumably for the waitress - or eavesdroppers - she continues and offers her name. "Miranda. I would say 'pleased' - but I think I'm going to rate today pretty low."

Just to clarify, you are still in an antechamber...the double doors to the social area are closed. Unless you go there, there's no ordering stuff@Miranda...there are places to sit, though.

The Madame listens carefully to what those of you speaking up are telling her, then remains silent for a good two inhalations from her pipe:"To me, it sounds like you are shaken young people who saw something terrible happen at that protest. You came here to escape from that harsh reality, and find solace in each others arms. Or some b~+&$%!* like that. You are most definitely not on the run from the law after doing something very stupid...and admirable. Of course, I have never seen this man...", pointing at the still passed-out rebel"-but I believe he will be happy to pay for your room. Do follow me, please."

Having spoken, she quickly claps twice, and from beyond the curtain, a number of very small, glowing lights fly out, and she addresses them:"Mo cinn beag milis , le do thoil a ghlanadh suas go fola agus praiseach . Ná déan dearmad an boladh , ach an oiread ."

The little lights swarm around the places where you lingered, and the stains you left behind diminish and fade. The woman leads you downstairs, and through a short corridor. At the end of the corridor, she unlocks a door, then proceeds further with you. There are many doors, almost seeming identical, and the passageway is winding and splitting. "These are the rooms for...regular customers. They are designed to their liking and exact specifications. Of course, we could use magic to provide this service, but many of our customers are...old fashioned. It also makes sure that each detail is correct, every time they visit." Stopping at a door looking just like all the others, she turns around: "I'll send one of my girls down with some food and drink, later. Do rest up, all of you, I'll have you woken after curfew." - She opens the room to reveal an almost perfect replication of a sleeping hall of Lady Docur's School for Girls(information she is perfectly happy to disclose if none of you can deduce it by yourself from experience, the style and/or window-view(which gives away it's location)) . A few more of the lights you saw upstairs are floating in the room, but head for the door when you enter, and leave. The madame points at the windows, saying "Day", and the sun seems to rise, over a surprisingly detailed representation of Kintargo as seen from Lady Docurs School. "Night", and the sun sinks and gives rise to a full moon illuminating the cityscape, with the light level in the room adapting. "Is there anything else you need, you poor shaken souls who are very definitely not on the run from Asmodeans?"

The slight disappointment Miranda had felt upon realizing she couldn't find a waiter soon washed away at the prospect of free house and food. And since it was free, well technically probably paid for by the unconscious man, she felt that it might not be polite to ask for specifics. Or not at *first* at least ... Instead she happily goes along the woman - she was more then redeemed for her earlier mistake. Also those small flying things were sorta fascinating ... And now she *did* actually ask if we needed anything!

"Toothpick?" Miranda asked meekly and jumped into the most plushy looking bed.

Boros grimaces in embarrassment as the newly-introduced Varuzhan mentions his gun. "In truth, that wasn't one o' my better battles. Seems like his Infernal Foulness himself was watchin' out for those three bastards, because I just couldn't get a decent shot lined up."

As the disguised small-folk lass joins them and introduces herself, he smiles in greeting and barely manages to suppress a pained laugh at her words. He then returns her introduction and offer of her name with his own before replying to her. "Aye, true enough, la-, ah, Miranda. But then, ya made more than a bit o' a mess yerself with yer teeth." Boros lets a pained grunt as he shifts on the seat before continuing with a teasing grin. "In a place like this, mind, ya could make a good bit o' coin chargin' for that sort o' thin'. Those fellas ya bit oughta' feel privileged they got it free."

As the grin fades, Boros sighs carefully. "But as to the rest of it, aye, not a day I'll remember all too fondly myself, apart from the new friends. And those would have been better made over cold drinks and hot food," he finishes with a faint smile.

Making Knowledge (nature) to recognize the little glowy lights for what they are.
Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

As the lights appear, seemingly by the madam's command in that unknown language, Boros startles and reaches instinctively for his gun. Only the sight of the lights beginning to dispose of the evidence of their arrival, as well as the fact that none of the others seem too perturbed, allows him to relax just enough to not immediately open fire.

He then rises and helps Varuzahn lift their unconscious load before following the madam to what is revealed to be a fairly pleasant room with multiple beds. When the theme of the room is revealed, Boros can't help but laugh; he's seen the students in question before and can certainly see the appeal some folks could find in the whole thing. Helping Varuzhan guide their unwitting benefactor to one of the beds, he finds one for himself immediately after.

As the madam makes her offer of services, Boros nods as he speaks up. "Aye ma'am, I'll need somethin' to wash the gore off o' myself and my gear, and then a bit o' somethin' hot to eat, accompanied by a big pot o' tea with plenty o' sugar." He looks around at the other occupants as he begins to remove his armor, eventually revealing plain underclothes that are crusted with dried sweat and blood, not to mention sporting some rather nasty cuts. If any o' ya are in need o' a bit o' patchin', I'm not too shabby at wound-work, if I do say so myself." He nods in Lily's direction before continuing, unaware that she's not the only one present with the ability to heal via magic. "Not exactly fair, to my way o' thinkin', to lean on her for a service she could make a fair bit o' coin for under other circumstances."

Once the Madame has allowed them entrance, Nissim begins to relax some, and he continues to more and more as they reach the room and are left on their own. No longer holding all that tension in, he begins to realize just how weary he is. His body feels weighted and his head aches.

Aside from the stress of being exposed to bloody combat for the first ever, twice that day no less, and the flight to escape, Nissim had all but exhausted his spell repertoire for the day. He rarely had occasion to cast at all, it was more an academic hobby than anything else. It was the stain of that which is really taking its toll.

Nissim finds a chair and sits down heavily. He needs a few minutes to close his eyes and reorder his thoughts before he would be ready for anything more.

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

"Elder Witchlights," remarks Varuzhan, recognizing the glowing creatures that appear. "Can they also use their magics to clean our clothing as well?" he asks the madame, hopeful that they could oblige.

He's a bit confused about the notion that the unconscious rebel would pay for the room, but did not decide to raise a fuss about it. They were receiving free shelter, which was far, far more than he ever expected. Still, there was the matter of the unconscious man. "Yes, we'll all need to get cleaned up," he agrees, "but most of all this man. I need some clean water, clean cloth, clear alcohol, and scissors to re-dress these wounds. If you have some additional means of healing, that would be welcome. Otherwise, I'll make sure he holds together until we have the strength for that." He begins to yawn - it was way past his bedtime, given that he typically slept in the day. But there was still more to do. "If you can have one of your ladies fetch those things, I'll get into proper clothing to keep him hale."

He then looks to the foreigner. "As for you, Boros, you need rest yourself. But if you have the strength for it, perhaps you can help." I only want Boros to help if he's allowed to rest anyway.

He looks cautiously around at his companions. He didn't exactly want to remove his cloak here, but there was little option. "I assume you all know I'm not human. You may already know what I am. Regardless, don't be too surprised." Varuzhan removed his cloak to reveal a set of black feathered wings, which he stretches out, much as a man waking up might stretch. His left wing stretches impressively, but the right one seems somewhat disjointed and lame. He then gingerly removes the heavy breastplate he had underneath. "The name's Varuzhan. You all did a fine thing saving this man. No ordinary folk would have risked themselves. Perhaps the Fates themselves have brought us together."

Assuming the madame obliges, Varuzhan makes sure the rebel is in good shape before he rests.

Finally, he reveals another thing from his bags. A creature flutters out, and all can see it's an owl, with dark plumage somewhat like Varuzhan. "This is Lore, a friend who watches over me. Do NOT think of catching him to claim the Lord-Mayor's bounty on such creatures." He gives the bird some food and water, and then some instruction. "Go, watch over this place, and warn us if danger approaches." Lore will find a secluded spot outside the building near the entrance, to conceal itself and look out for any trouble that might approach.

Lore's Stealth: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 31
Lore's Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Boros merely blinks, then smiles faintly in satisfaction as his prior supposition of something being under Varuzhan's cloak is confirmed. He then shakes his head to clear it of idle thoughts and points to Varuzhan's own wounds as he replies. "I wasn't exactly all alone gettin' beat on, so let's not go makin' recommendations as to who needs rest more. I'll wager yer no better than I am at sewing yerself closed, so ya'll need someone to check ya out as well."

As Boros makes his points to Varuzhan, he's bringing over his own kit to the unconscious rebel's bed. "Besides, with me, yer friend there," he says with a wave of his free hand in Nissim's general direction as he unpacks his kit, "And yerself, it seems we have an embarrassment o' riches as far as healin' goes, so there's no need to be stingy with it."

After a couple of minutes Nissim opens his eyes and says "the man had a curative potion with him. He should be given that as soon as his wounds are bound. The sooner he's conscious the better. I will take care of changes to dressings and such. I am uninjured."

Despite Lily's lack of understanding in the hilarious way... am I the only one who finds it rather creepy to go into a brothel and find a perfect copy of a bedroom for a school for teenage girls? No one? :P

Lily follows along after, also recognizing the small creatures, though not drawing too much attention to them, instead looking to each room as they pass. Once they reach the room they'll be staying in, Lily purses her lips, and furrows her brow once more, looking around the room, head turning slowly, but eyes darting from place to place. She raises a finger and looks like she's about to speak for a moment... then promptly walks to the side of the room and opens a door, stepping inside.

"Washroom is here." she acknowledges, as she disappears inside and begins to work at her own makeup... she didn't look terrible, considering the running mascara lines... but she would come out of the room looking much better... along with a wash basin and soft cloths for cleaning. She immediately begins fussing to clean up any of the others that needed cleaning, while avoiding actually touching their wounds. From up close, and without her makeup, the dapple of freckles appeared to be a sort of rusty carmine color.

"It's so strange how much this looks like my sister's room at Lady Docur's..." she adds as she fusses over the half-tiefling (if she's let her illusion fade), or Varuzhan's otherwise. She was waiting to take care of Boros last, regardless; that hand alone would ruin the entire basin.

@Varuzhan: There are, not including the door to your room, about 3 closed doors between Lore and "outside", assuming he remembered the exact way while being carried. Getting out by himself could be difficult. You are welcome to send him off, but in that case, please add an Intelligence-Check for Lore.(On the plus side, nobody in the establishment has need enough for coin to consider hunting him for the bounty)...the warning part could also be difficult, trying to come back. Just in case it's a misunderstanding: The madame led you DOWNstairs, from the ground floor. Your room is in the cellar, below the common room. The "Windows" are Illusions that react to one of two keywords, showing the view over Kintargo from the school, to provide proper immersion. There are no real windows.

@Lily: No separate sub-rooms(thats too expensive), but there can be a basin behind a room divider(which, unlike the real things at the real dorm rooms, do show the silhouette of things happening behind it)

Hearing Varuzhans request, the Madame shouts after the Witchlights:"Fan . Nigh an filth , fuil , agus allas ó na custaiméirí."

In the baskets, you find bread(both dark and white), meat and sausages, varying kinds of cheese, some vegetables one can eat raw(including, of course, tomatoes) and fruits both local and exotic, water, wine(both red and white, and not the cheap stuff), and a bottle of spirits.

"I am well enough that I do not need to be patched up." Juliette lets the others know, since the only thing that had harmed her was the burst of negative energy, she felt much better then many of the others looked, and suspected that a nights rest would take care of almost all of her wounds.

It provided Juliette with some comfort that she recognized the madame as one a friend of the family of such, already knowing more about her in regards to her political views then those who she was sharing a room with at this time. It was quite unlike Juliette to trust strangers so quickly, even more so considering she had trusted them with her own life - and her family's name.

And speaking of family..."I need to write a letter, I must inform Lady Eldonna of my activities, it would not be fair to her to suffer the consequences of my actions without me informing her of them." she declares to no one in particular, almost thinking aloud as she pulls out a piece of parchment, along with a pen and ink. "However, in doing so, I need more information on the man we rescued." She adds, placing the parchment and writing materials down rather then utilizing them at this time.

It would seem that at this time, Juliette was more worried about the political ramifications of her actions then what was going to happen next to those who were physically present in this room.

Caring not for the possible value of the food and beverage - likely a result of her noble birth, Juliette begins to eat some of it as well as partake in the wine.