Order of the Gate (Inactive)

Game Master SOLDIER-1st

Cassius listens with a frown, and nods when Vorgal looks back to him.

"There are runes on you to supposedly bolster your fortitude, your reactions, and your willpower... if they are truthful... as well as binding symbols. And this little-- note on your neck, presumably from Zakat himself:

"This life is mine to take, do so and face my wrath."

He shrugs his frustration with that, with Zakat, and glances to Saren, who has observed all this. "Have you any insights, sir? To the situation in general, or Bjorn in specific... we will, of course, carry out our orders and proceed to Druma, but that damned orb worries me."

Saren peers at the runes and glyphs marking Bjorn's skin intently for a while.

"Well, honestly I'm not an expert on this style of magic. While I've heard of it, I have little else to go by. It's unlikely that any but perhaps the Vicarius or maybe some other senior signifier would be able to dispel these. If it can safely be done at all. Given what little I know of... Zakat? Then I would assume that he genuinely wants you to live, at least until such a time as he is free and able to kill you himself. If I had to guess there are probably contingency spells in there to let him locate you, and if he's clever, to teleport you. But I simply don't know enough. I apologize. My skills lie more towards the combative than the scholarly." He shakes his head.

"On the bright side however, I am also willing to bet that the orb and it's magic is attuned specifically to you five, so I do not believe you have to worry overmuch about somebody else accidentally blundering into the trap, as it were. though I would like to personally examine the orb with you, now that I am more rested and focused, just to see."

Ivari continues to absorb the information as presented but otherwise stands by. At mention of examining the orb the paladin frowns slightly, Sir if you do decide to examine the orb might I recommend a contingent of knights to encircle you as you examine the artifact? Cassius came under fire from someone or something we still have not located. I am worried the object is being used as a lure...

"I have no objections to meatshields," the winged man laughs.

"I'll let you all get caught up, unless there's anything else I can do for you?"

Sorry for the delay.

Cassius scowls grimly at the notion that Bjorn could be tracked by Zakat like a candle in the dark-- or even worse, teleported. He sighs and nods.

"Duly noted. No need to apologize, sir, you have been helpful. And I am... pleased to see that you yet live. I feared the worst."

He rubs at the bridge of his nose. "I would happily go with you to the orb, but our orders are to remain in our quarters, now. If you can override those, well and good; until then, I fear I have given the Lictor enough reason to resent our presence here. But it's true what Ivari says: an unseen archer filled me with more arrows than I care to have in my lungs again anytime soon, and he is still at large. Have a care, yourself. And rest well tonight."

He salutes Saren, then drops heavily into a chair when the Maralictor has departed. "Circles within circles," he sighs. "Well, Bjorn, I would take those markings from you were it in my power. In the meantime, enjoy having a chain linking you to a mad bastard."

"Vorgal-- we might be well suited to a few hours study together. At least we ought to compare our spellbooks.If any spells from mine are useful to you to learn, feel free."

I don't think Cassius will copy any down (all he could afford would be a 1st level spell anyway), but, GM permitting, Cassius will scribe a scroll of infernal healing (-12.5 GP) during their 'waiting to be ready for further travel' period.

"Of course. I'll let you know if I discern anything pertinent," the winged man nods, returning your salute before departing.

Yup, you have enough time to scribe a scroll. I'll progress things tonight hopefully, but probably tomorrow, so if there's anything else anybody wants to say/do, go for it.

The day passes slowly, but eventually it does pass. Saren discovers nothing in particular about the orb, but other than that nothing happens to trouble you any more. At 0800 you are quickly ushered out of your quarters and into a covered wagon. Saren drops by semi-frequently, always with a slight sheen of sweat on his face from flying. You still find it strange to see him without his signifier mask.

The first day is uneventful, though whether you find it more relaxing or boring is hard to tell. However, less than a minute after departure the next morning an alarm is raised. You all instantly awake, waiting uncertainly as the commotion outside increases, then slowly subsides. Finally Saren pokes his head in.

"Get out," he orders. You obey, and emerge to see Paralictor Malachai and Maralictor Saren standing in the sunlight, and at their feet...

The orb. Directly below where your wagon was parked during the night.

"Lictor Vidoc is going to be slightly peeved I bet," Saren grins humorlessly. Malachai grunts.

"We cannot have this... artifact... thing following us. Particularly once we're in Druma. We need to find a way to deal with this. Azana! Marcus!"

Two signifiers hurry over to his side. With the masks and armor it's difficult to tell much about them, but you deem that one is a short male, probably older given the cane he is holding (though he doesn't seem to be leaning on it overmuch), and the other is a taller female, with intricate designs covering her mask and armor. Somewhat... familiar designs.

"You will assist the Gate however necessary. I want this orb gone by noon," he growls in irritation. The signifiers nod, seemingly unafraid of his temper, or perhaps just overused to it. The pair, along with Saren, joins your group, and you huddle up.

"Greetings," the elderly hellknight says, his voice calm and soothing, "I am Marcus, and this is Azana, of the Nail. We are pleased to be working with you today."

Azana sighs, and you'd be willing to bet a small fortune that behind her mask her eyes rolled.

"Azana here is quite familiar with Varisian tattoo magic, as well as its parent Thassalonian rune magic. I am sure that together we can get this issue dealt with."

His voice and demeanor are most pleasant, and you are confident that his primary role in his squad is to soothe the tempers of its more high-strung members.

"I'm sure. Alright. Strip down big boy, and let's get a look at what that thing did to you," Azana orders Bjorn, her voice somehow combining irritation, seduction, and brusqueness all at once.

I had worse dates...

Bjorn starts to move, but just before uncressing its light shirt, Bjorn looks at Cassius.

Acting Maralictor? Must I proceed?

Kayle looks away, respecting Bjorn's privacy.

Ivari clicks his tongue gently at the turn of events but focuses his energy at the surrounding area, wary for the trouble that might follow the orb...

On Watch!: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

Cassius stares at the orb for a long moment, blank-faced.

Then he jerks back into motion at the greetings of the other Hellknights. He clears his throat and nods to the two senior signifiers courteously.

"We would be grateful for any insight you may have, Signifiers Marcus and Azana..." At Bjorn's question, he inclines his head towards the covered wagon. "Perhaps we might do this in there-- there is no need to give the entire caravan reason to gossip, surely..."

He nods approvingly at Ivari's taking up of a guard position. "Kayle, keep watch with Ivari for now, thank you. Vorgal, as the other student of the arcane, perhaps you'll join us in the wagon."

Assuming Azana is fine with conducting the inspection in quasi-privacy:

Cassius quickly explains what little he and Vorgal were able to glean of the runes and their meanings. He also explains how his summoned devil had been completely unable to move the orb, yet that it had not triggered its effect on him, either.

Vorgal casts detect magic, alternating his face between the orb and the runes on Bjorn.

Inside the wagon Azana nods in approval at Cassius's assessment.

"For someone who's not an expert in the subject, you are impressively accurate in your assessment," she says warmly.

"You are correct. This pattern here," she indicates three symbols, one on each temple and one above Bjorn's heart, "Are runes of free will. Not the most powerful I've seen, but certainly hefty enough to be of great assistance. These here..." she indicates a group of five this time, one on the back of each wrist and ankle and one on the back of his neck.

"These are runes of quick reflexes, in roughly the same power range as the free will ones. And this large grouping here," she gently traces what at first you thought was a single symbol on his stomach, but quickly realize is many interlocking glyphs, "is called unflinching fortitude. Those are all the most basic ones. Mildly impressive in their power, but not particularly complex. But these here..."

She indicates a sprawling tracery of tattoos that runs from shoulder to shoulder.

"Are much more complex. There are generally three types of binding runes, and all three are used here. These trines are used to capture and hold spells cast, to be dispelled later. And these bursts," she indicates a row of interlocking hexagons, with rays pointing inward and outward at all corners, "are... for limiting planar travel?"

She pauses, confused for a bit.

"I'm not entirely certain. The runes for teleporting and the runes for blocking teleportation are intertwined. I've never actually seen that before. It appears that you're anchored to a plane, but the anchor can move? That doesn't quite make sense..." she trails off, deep in thought.

"I'm not sure, I'll have to do more research. But these circles here at least are straightforward. Summoning circles. So apparently you can be easily bound. The rest of these tattoos mostly seem to be personal markings and warnings to others in various languages."

She steps back.

"Any questions thus far?" she asks.

Sure, if I'm allowed, I'll be very interested in a way to get rid of them. Whatever benefits some of them give me, I'm sure sure the payback from the others is greater.

Says Bjorn in low tone, and his words are, somehow, void of hope.

Cassius inclines his head at the compliment, though his eyes don't leave the cursed tattoos on Bjorn's form, nor his look of frowning concentration go away.

"So, with the one hand, Zakat bestows blessings after a fashion-- making Bjorn better able to survive threats he faces... but with the other hand, he wraps him with a chain, is that about the sum of it?" he says grimly. "Please, continue, ma'am."

"It would appear so," she nods to Cassius, then turns back to Bjorn.

"Let's have a look at this orb before we go trying to do anything first," she says, giving him a moment to redress before hopping back out of the wagon. Marcus follows, though at a more sedate pace than his companion.

Outside you see the pair scrutinizing the orb, their signifier masks glowing faintly in the sunlight, Azana's blue, and Marcus's red. They are silent for some time before finally breaking their concentration. Marcus quickly moves over to Azana, grabbing her arm as she tries to run off.

"Calm down, it's alright," he says calmly, attempting to soothe the other Hellknight. She growls and jerks her arm out of his grip.

"I'm fine," she growls, adjusting her robes.

"Go calm down, I will stay here," he encourages her gently. She grunts and trudges down the caravan and out of sight.

"I apologize. She is young yet, and unfortunately gifted. She is unused to another's ability outstripping her own. Unfortunately there is little we can determine about this artifact as of yet, though I'm certain Azana will throw her full efforts into overcoming this particular obstacle," he chuckles quietly with a mixture of amusement and pride.

"As best we can tell, the orb is just a conduit for another power elsewhere, and once its abilities are used the object itself will be consumed. I'm not sure we can dispel or destroy it via other methods, at least not without a good deal more precaution than we can afford on the road. However, the flip-side of that is that due to it merely being a conduit, it may be possible to follow the power back to its source; presumably this stormborn, or at least some power associated with him," he explains.

"I am afraid this will not best please Malachai. But there is nothing for it," he sighs slightly.

"I will go inform the Paralictor. Is there anything else I can do for you? Or that you feel we may have missed?" he inquires.

Sorry for my insistance, but must I assume that there is not an easy way to dispell or negate the runes on me without consuming myself, like with the orb?

Says Bjorn, trying to speak in a calm tone, due to respect towards the signifiers.

"I don't know yet exactly what the repercussions might be, though the most limiting factor at the moment is that we simply don't have the resources to do it. Azana is, I try to say without a measure of pride, probably the best abjurer the Hellknights have. I can say for certain her magics are better than any others in the Nail at the very least, though I'm confident that at least a few in your order might be on par with her. Regardless, even with her expertise, she is outclassed, at least for the moment. Perhaps her research might reveal some new method or strategy, but for now we are... stuck," the older Hellknight replies, patting Bjorn on the shoulder.

"I would not worry overmuch however. She is very good at what she does. Once she can sit down and research, I'm confident a solution can be found. Until then it is just a matter of patience."

I appreciate your effort, signifiers. -Says Bjorn with a reverence.
Then, adressing to his comrades, the big man asks for instructions.

How must I proceed? May I stay near the sphere, or just resume my regular schedule?

Ivari frowns at the conversation at the edge of his hearing, so recently a hellkinght only to be saddled with such a struggle, the paladin wonders to himself if Bjorn will be allowed to stay with the squad. I certainly caused the stormborn the most issue, it is unjust that Bjorn must shoulder this curse...I should have been the one to touch it... The hellknight continues to examine the area, waiting to see what comes next.

Cassius shakes his head to Marcus's questions. "You've been helpful, thank you. If this .... can trace backwards... then yes, do let us know. I would dearly like to... resolve this matter, if ever given permission to do so by our superiors."

When the signifier has left, he sighs and turns to Bjorn. "Normal schedule, I suppose. You seem to be in the fit of health, after all. Damnation on this, though-- the thought that he has a chain on you, and can pull it when he pleases, infuriates me. Probably he can also scry through it," the wizard says sourly. There, that's what he should have asked Marcus-- he makes a note to do so.

"Still... nothing for it, it would seem. At least not right now. Speak if you ... feel anything strange," Cassius sighs. "It was on my order you touched the orb. Damnation on all of this."

When he next sees Marcus, Cassius will indeed ask him if it's probable that Zakat could use the orb, or Bjorn himself, as a scrying focus or the like. Other than that, Cassius is ready to keep moving.

FYI I am back around but did we lose a GM?

Hey look free time!

Time passes and Malachai, though angry at the lack of progress with the orb, orders the Hellknights to continue on.

The rest of the trip passes uneventfully, breaking camp in the morning, traveling all day, then stopping at dusk, and always, always the orb is right there beneath your wagon in the morning.

You barge up the Iseld all the way to Logas in Isger. From there the rest of the trip is overland. Despite the rampant banditry in Isger, nothing bothers the caravan. Every thug and pillager in the country knows better than to cross the Hellknights. Eventually you cross the border into Druma, and you feel the air subtly shift as the Hellknights grow tense. A contingent of Blackjackets awaits to escort the group at the border.

Though you get little to no chance to interact with the Blackjackets, the escort seems to go smoothly enough. No shouting or signs of violence occur during the trip to Kerse. Upon arrival the company is quickly stationed in one of the seemingly many palaces the crowd the city, giving you the first chance in many weeks to finally escape the confines of your wagon for a significant duration of time. You stretch your legs and gaze at the opulent (bordering on gaudy) splendor of the city from the balcony of your suite.

I'll give you all a day or whatever to rp anything, then move on to the big meeting!

Ivari stays wary throughout the trip and is silently thankful when he can at least walk about in his armor rather than sit in a cart.

Once in quarters the paladin is content to down dress but leaves the breastplate on, still concerned about sudden trouble. Looking out over the city the hellknight frowns, So much to see but what lies beneath this tawdry varnish? Hopefully an arrangement worthy of our orders. I worry that Zakat means to disrupt us and humiliate us in the seat of this place...

Each night at the end of their travels, Cassius spends some time in silent glowering at the orb, though he does not touch it; only stares at it, trying to discern what Zakat ultimately intends. He makes little progress, unfortunately. (You can technically make Spellcraft checks to identify a magic item anew every day, but I'm guessing there's not much point in rolling those as this is a special and unique item, not an existing thing. Correct me if I'm wrong and there would be an in-game point to rolling further Spellcraft checks.)

He is tense as a taut wire, and as the miles are eaten up beneath the wagon wheels, Cassius only grows more so. He finds himself deeply missing the grating voice of his familiar-- how many times had he cursed the bird and begged for the gods to take away that damn voice--? And yet, now that it's gone, he thinks he would give a great deal to hear the feathered nuisance one more time. Unconditional loyalty is a rare thing in the country of Cheliax, where even your family may not be people you can trust... the parrot listened to his ramblings, his musings, his angry muttered rants, without judgment-- a true confidant. He does not feel he has anyone he can similarly confide in, now. For he must play the role of leader to the rest of the squad, and a fretting leader does not inspire confidence.

He is glad enough when they reach civilization again, but still the tension is a knot between his shoulderblades. How long til Zakat makes his move? Can they possibly be prepared enough? What of the unseen archer? He dreams at night of the smell of lightning-burnt flesh, and wakes sweaty in the tight space of the wagon.

But the suite is big enough for him to pace, and he does so with spirit, crossing from one side to the other before looking out the balcony. "I worry the same," he says of Ivari's words, rubbing at his forehead. (He thinks he's grown all-new wrinkles, this trip.) "Yet what can we do, other than to try and prepare? I feel we are yet steps behind him, playing a game where only he sees the board or knows the rules. Until he makes his next play, we can only do our best before the Drumans. Bah, I wager you the orb shows up in our bedchamber tomorrow morning."

The next morning passes uneventfully, with the exception that, as predicted, you wake to find the orb in the living room of your suite, an enduring reminder of your fate.

Sometime before noon Saren (finally with a new Signifier mask) and Malachai come into your room, along with Azana and Marcus. Malachai scowls at seeing the orb, but otherwise ignores it.

"The welcome banquet is tonight," he says without preamble.

"After that, we'll go and meet with the Blackjacket squad, and then depart for the FTX in the morning," he hands a sheaf of papers to Saren.

"The Maralictor here will hopefully answer any questions you might have. Azana and Marcus will continue to try and deal with this orb."

Malachai's voice hardens at that last statement, and Azana's posture becomes decidedly defensive, though Marcus seems unaffected. You surmise that there have been more than one heated discussion on the subject. Malachai turns and quickly strides from the room. Marcus gently pats Azana on the shoulder as the younger Hellknight slumps slightly before going over to once again look at the orb.

Saren passes the papers to Cassius.

"These are reports on the squad your team will be working with, along with several persons of interest who will be at the banquet tonight. Information on the exact details of the FTX are sparse, but what we know is in there too."

He sighs in relaxation as he reclines on one of the many sofas in your living room.

"Let me know if you have any questions."

Yeesh, completely lost track of time on this thread. Sorry.

Cassius stands to quick attention when the Signifiers come in, listening intently. "Sir, he says with a salute, as Malachai leaves. Then he takes the papers, a slight frown between his brows.

"Yes... give me a moment to go over these papers, if you will. At ease, team."

Cassius settles himself onto one of the divans, reading swiftly through the briefing regarding the other squadron, so that he can disseminate the data to his team.

Vorgal Veil

Vorgal sits patiently next to Cassius, writing out a list of spells. He makes some marks next to some, then puts the page next to him waiting on Cassius' attention.

Vorgal takes each page in turn as Cassius finishes them.

The spells checked off on the character sheet linked above are my prepared spells.

Part 2 coming soon to a forum near you!

Ok all done.

Unfortunately, I currently have little enough spare cash for spell scribing costs, but should we come into some, I'll give Vorgal's spellbook a second look. Cassius's spellbook is in his profile; he would also have made the offer to Vorgal.

Cassius reads swiftly through the documents, committing things to memory and then setting the sheets down on one of the ornate side tables for the rest of the team to peruse at their leisure.

"They sound a competent team," he remarks to Saren, "though rather light on arcane support, if our intelligence is complete." He adds on drily, "Do you know if the 'instruction' methods mentioned will be in the form of opposed combative scenarios?"

Has Cassius, perhaps, heard of any of these individuals other than by the briefing itself? I'll roll the checks that seem likeliest to be appropriate:

Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25
Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Knowledge (nobility): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

Bleh, dice.

"From what I know, the Blackjacket's arcane operatives almost never go in the field, their dedicated spellcasters specializing more in divination than anything else," Saren shrugs, scratching underneath his mask.

"And I doubt there will be anything like that. The agreement is still too new and tenuous to risk with any sort of 'accidental' deaths or injuries."

(Ah, thanks for the reminder.)

Cassius muses on this a moment, then nods. "It makes sense after a fashion. Forewarned is forearmed, and so forth. Well, I am relieved to hear we will not be facing off-- enough has already gone wrong on this mission. As you say, an 'accidental' maiming would do neither Druma nor Cheliax any good."

He gestures to the papers, glancing at the other team members. "Familiarize yourselves with the briefing materials and with the team from whom we will be learning. We must do a good job, here; perhaps that can help soften the blow of Zakat's re-emergence.

"While I imagine I may not still be squadron leader when our second joint mission comes round, we ought to consider the techniques we will employ when we, in turn, are called to teach our new friends."

The day passes uneventfully as you try to relax and enjoy the quality of your accommodations. Azana and Marcus are quiet, only occasionally murmuring to each other and scribbling notes and the occasional equation on a piece of paper.

Finally though you hear a chime and soon after Saren walks into the room, dressed to the nines in his formal black and crimson robes, his unique leather mask freshly oiled and etched, and his bronze wings gleaming. Behind him trails a rather long line of servants, all carrying cases and trunks and bundles of cloth.

"Alright Hellknights. Let's look good!" he says cheerfully as the small army descends upon you and begins dressing/undressing you. Azana and Marcus quickly flee before they too are accosted.

Hair is trimmed and brushed, faces and hands washed and oiled, nails clipped, and a battery of other groomings take place in a whirlwind frenzy.

Less than an hour later and you gaze at yourself in a full length mirror, impressed at the change. A thick, hooded crimson mantle sits over a slimming black silk outfit that manages to be practical, comfortable, and stylish while still maintaining a military look. Over your left breast is emblazoned the symbol of the order, an infernal eye staring from a swirling portal, woven in shimmering gold thread. On your right shoulder are the gold symbols of your rank; a diamond and bar for Bjorn, a diamond and arrow for Ivari, a star for Kayle, a pentagram for Vorgal, and a pentagram with a burst around it for Cassius.

A servant finishes up polishing Cassius's mask and puts it on him, making sure it's secure before pulling the hood up and over it. You all gaze at one another, almost not recognizing the regal and intimidating group you see before you.

"Not bad," Saren remarks as the servants clean up and quickly filter out of the room, "You almost look like you could potentially be Hellknights now!"

A smile and wink betray his kidding.

A short time later and a servant arrives to escort you to the banquet hall.

Never before have you seen such wealth and splendor. Practically everything in the room is gilded, and precious gems and bands of rare metals stud columns of smooth marble. The tables and chairs are all crafted from finely cut darkwood, the deep hue of the wood polished to a dark umber glow. Lush Qadrian carpets cover the granite floors and two enormous stained glass windows sit high up on the walls to allow the rising and setting suns to shine through.

The rest of the room looks up as you enter, the doorman announcing your presence. Everybody present seems to fall into one of two color schemes; White and gold for the Kalistocrats and black for everybody else. The Mercenary League representatives and bodyguards in their distinctive black jackets, the somber servants in their black livery, and of course the various Hellknight orders all have mostly black uniforms.

"Kalistocrat Brotie, Captain LaDour, I present Acting-Maralictor Thwaite and his squad," Saren introduces you, having herded you over to the pair.

LaDour gazes over you impassively, his eyes sweeping each of you briefly before returning their attention to the rest of the room, constantly searching. You can clearly see the neat scar that marks the right side of his face, a badge symbolizing his dueling proficiency.

The olive skinned Kalistocrat on the other hand greets you graciously, devoting his full attention to you.

"Welcome! It is a great pleasure to meet you. I am eager to learn all about you," he says, his gleaming white teeth contrasting with his tanned complexion.

"I must apologize," he says as the group sits down at the head table, the rest of the room slowly following suit, "This is not where I would have chosen to host such a gathering, but it is closer to where the, ah, main event will be taking place, and my primary residence is currently undergoing renovations. Perhaps one day after things are more stable you will consent to return and stay in a place more fitting."

As a young man, Cassius had expected he would ultimately be managing his family's estate, serving as a right hand to his brother, and he'd duly studied his figures in order to be a competent book-keeper and manager of the Thwaite family fortune. So as he is ushered into the opulent feast chamber, he cannot help but mentally calculate the wealth that surrounds them... but as the gold pieces are converted mentally into platinum, and the zeroes start piling up behind the platinum, Cassius gives up, letting his mental tally of the wealth in the room dissolve into nothing.

He's grateful for the mask of his office; it covers the disgusted curl of his lip. The contempt is not for the Kalistocrats and their extravagant fortunes-- rather, it is for his own family, for how they had been so desperate to improve their lot in life that they had literally struck a bargain with devils, selling their own kin and possibly their souls in the process... and for what? A nice manor house, a title before the name? Silver candlesticks on the parlour table?

Here is wealth to dwarf his family's ambitions by a long shot, and while he is certain that Drumans use many a ruthless trick in the acquiring of their fortunes, he doubts it goes quite so far as the literal sacrifice of their own children.

He puts all this out of his head as he is ushered into the presence of the Kalistocrat. Cassius bows formally to the richest man in the room.

"You do us great honor with your hospitality, Kalistocrat. I should be flattered to be invited to your home at a more convenient time. It is my sincere hope that this meeting marks the beginning of a profitable arrangement for both our nations, where we may learn from one another and increase our fortunes accordingly. I should be happy to answer any questions you have about myself or my squadron-- may I present Hellknights Bjorn, Vorgal Veil, Ivari Thien, and Kayle Lightbringer."

He offers another small bow to the captain. "Captain LaDour. It is a pleasure. Your reputation precedes you."

Sense motive: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

(This is a general sense motive to try to be aware of any unspoken sentiments or other socially interesting sorts-of-things, not necessarily a check vs any words that have been said so far.)

While I know that a significant portion of the slowness has come from me as of late, there are some of you who haven't posted in over a month. I would like everybody to make at least some sort of post before I do much more to progress, so I can make sure that you haven't disappeared on us =P thanks.

Weird I think I lost a post or two somewhere because I've read through things and been in the thread but out of it the last couple of days. June has been a crazy month. Sorry for my absence.

Despite being new to the armor Ivari feels somewhat unnerved being out of it in the heart of another land. Despite this the paladin does his work to clean up and present himself with proper bearing relying on his youthful upbringing in a noble house to respond with proper etiquette as he moves through the event.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Bascially staying quiet and looking/acting pretty while the wizard lights up the barbecue for a good grilling...

Sorry thought this game did out and stopped checking in

Kayle bows to the Kalistocrat.

Never really understood the need for suck extravagance, surely there could be some more practical use for all this wealth

Runes fault :P

Bjorn salutes with formality, as a Hellknight should, though he feel somehow unconfortable.

In his mind, he feels like a beacon that will attract an otherwordly threat to bring havoc at the meeting to ruin it all.

It is really an honor, Sirs.

For once, Vorgal is grateful for the formal training his father made him endure for years.

Vorgal offers a bow before sitting. "Well met, Sir. And though you wish for otherwise, it really is a lovely place you have brought us too. "

"Oh thank you, I will certainly let you know once the renovations are complete," the Kalistocrat says, beaming, while Captain LaDour remains, as his name suggests, dour, and merely gives you a brief nod of his head.

"So tell me of your travels? Is Isger still as overrun as everyone says? I know that many merchants have difficulty moving goods through that country. I always count myself fortunate that the Mercenary League is so devoted to their duty, we almost never lose goods thanks to their efforts..."

I'm not sure how much you all want to rp potentially boring conversations, so I made this section optional. There's a few minor rewards/tidbits in here, but nothing mandatory, so if you want to skip to the FTX just let me know and we can do that.

Might be worth doing a little just to see if we can glean more about the people we are with?

Ivari nods at the commentary about Isger, his tone conversational, The reputation of the area, of course, has it sound as though banditry is excessive and frequent. For our part, however, we saw little of that. Our trip here was quiet but that means little. We are a new face in the region and a tad cowing when moving in force.I have no doubt that the more the Hellknights are in the region the more likely people will be used to our presence and think it worth their while to test our limits.

Agree with Ivari. Shame to just brush past any attempt to talk, etc.

While Cassius is never likely to win the Most Personable in the Graduating Class Award, he was raised among and around nobility, and he knows how to keep a civil tongue in his mouth. He talks courteously with the Kalistocrat, nodding in agreement to Ivari's words.

"For my part I hope that increased cooperation between the Hellknights and the Mercenary League will result in safer trade routes between both our lands, as well as Isger," he says, with a little nod of his head towards Captain LaDour. "With the fine training of the League, and the discipline of the Orders, working together to bring order to the regions, petty banditry should be easy to rein in.

"Of course, there are always those rare, more serious threats that might crop up from time to time..."

Basically, Cassius is fishing for any sort of response from the Kalistocrat (or LaDour, etc) that would indicate they know about Zakat's reappearance-- and the orb, for that matter. He finds it hard to believe that with their resources for information-gathering, they wouldn't know about it, but he's just trying to get some confirmation.

If needed, Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"Oh indeed! While banditry can occasionally serve to be profitable, on such a vital tradeway as that it is nothing but a bother. I am confident that between our two forces, the rabble can be dealt with. Though of course, as you say, more serious threats will arise to fill in the gaps, as oft happens. But that is the purpose of this exercise though, is it not? To further strengthen each other, that such threats might be effectively dealt with."

Hope everybody had a pleasant murica day. Or for those non-Americans, a pleasant weekend =P

"Very true," Cassius says, inclining his head to the Kalistocrat. "And I look forward to the learning experience... I must confess, I have only the vaguest idea what these exercises are going to entail, but I suppose you don't want to ruin the surprise, hm?" he says, with a small smile up at LaDour, even if the man seems unlikely to return it.

Speaking of surprises.... he hopes Zakat is not one of them, either tonight or at any point in the days to come. Cassius sighs as he sips just enough to be polite from his wine glass. The wine is exquisite, but he doesn't want his senses dulled by too much of it.

I'll give everybody else the rest of the day to post if they want, and then we'll do your thing Cassius.

While Bjorn does not usually show any external sign of his emotions, the words of Cassius praising the training of the Mercenary League barely makes the big man raise an eyebrow.

Mmmh, I know what "diplomacy" if for, but it is now by all our estrict discipline, what is Cassius after?