Suicide Squad

Game Master Patrick Curtin


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HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma looks at the trough of water then back to others.

"Any of you capable of heating this, or must we take cold baths?"

Is there any privacy to the tub's location?


Elf Unchained Rogue 9

"Sorry Darlin'. Looks like it's cold showers for all of us. Ah well. It was gonna be one of those days anyway." Ash says with a shrug.

Hew doesn't look happy at the prospect of a cold bath either. But he re-gathers his belongings and goes over to a corner of the Barn to sit on a small pile of hay and sort through his stuff. He greets each piece of equipment with a smile and murmured hello. As if greeting old friends.


female aasimar (musetouched) Bard/Cleric (ecclesiathurge) 11 Heirophant 3 | hp 122/122 | AC 25 , tac 21, ff 21 | CMB +8; CMD 28 | F +12, R +13, W +14 | Init +7 | Darkvision 60; ft Per +18| Bard Spells: 1st (6/6), 2nd (5/5), 3rd (5/5), 4th (3/3) | channel energy 5d6 (9/9) (dc 21); adoration 7/7 (dc 19) charming smile (11/11 rnds) (dc 19); touch of good 7,7; holy lance (7/7); performance (30/30); glaive +17 (1d10+6)

As they reached the stables and the tub was set up and filled Indrana looked on it with relish. There were very few things she liked but being clean was one of them, and she wasn't clean. As Atma began to look at the trough and question whether or not hot water was available the fiendish woman didn't skip a beat. She approached the tub and simply tore free the ragged remains of her garment and let them fall seeming completely unconcerned with her nudity before these strangers. She went to the tub and climbed in as she began to scrub herself free of the filth she'd accumulated. She even managed to, somehow, scrub the entirety of her wings well before she started on her hair. Once she was finished, in a fairly short period of time, she rose and let the water sluice from her body before she got out. Once she'd extricated herself from the trough she reached down and casually lifted one end, with out any apparent effort given her seeming lack of muscles, and up ended it, dumping the soiled water and then setting it down once more before she headed to her pack and pulled out a towel to finish drying with.

Feeling clean Indrana began to pull items from her pack, first of which was a harness like garment of studded leather which she easily donned, then came a ring, necklace, which she somehow fit around the collar, a belt, all of which she puts on with seeming affection before finally putting on the high leather boots. With all of that accomplished she reaches into the pack one last time and grabs something which she begins to pull free. She twitched her arm slightly in the depths of the obviously magical bag and got a large sickle like head through it before she started pulling on it and finally freeing a very large and sharp looking scythe which she slung across her back and secured. She looked up and said, "I'm ready to get this over with."


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma calmly watches the winged woman bathe, making no move to step aside as she splashes around. Some water spills on Atma's gray shift causing the young woman to shiver slightly as the cool water makes contact with her skin.

When Indrana finishes and dumps out the water, Atma simply waits for the trough to be replaced, and then raises an eyebrow while looking at Chandi expectantly.

"No heat, you say," she drones needlessly, both hands held up before her face. Atma shrugs and pulls her dirty shift over her head. The hair on her arms, legs, and other places is all a startling white against the backdrop of the almost metallic tan color of her skin. She's certainly not over voluptuous and has merely average proportions for a female. Naturally though this means she still very much a woman, slightly curvy if narrow-hipped. Several scars are visible in various places as well as what must be an elaborate tattoo on her back and spiraling down one leg. Assuming Chandi in fact refills the tub, Atma almost delicately steps first one leg and then the other into the tub in which she kneels and very deliberately washes herself using some soap and a handbrush which she produces from inside her pack. While not quite as enthusiastically as Indrana, Atma does a thorough job in particularly on her blackened feet which she scrubs vigorously until they are very much a version of bronzed pink rather than the awful black they started as.

Once finished she simply exits the trough, not having nearly the same level as strength as the tiefling, Atma ignores the dirty water. She dries herself and dresses, her appearance very much improved. Atma pulls her hair back and uses a black headband with lace on its edges to keep it in place. It matches the black frilly long-sleeved dress she removes from her pack. White lace adorn the collar, cuffs, and edges of a completely black dress which fluffed out a bit due to some white petticoats underneath the skirt. A black sash tied into an enormous black bow at the small of Atma's back completed the ensemble, and she tugged on some rather curious gloves as well. She then proceeded to buckle on some armor which once equipped, she muttered something, and it seemed to melt into her dress and was now unseen. Lastly, she produces an ominous pink crystal which she then clipped to her choke collar as if that was precisely why it was there.

Atma's eyes widened from their half-lidded state at the sight of Indrana's scythe. She stared at it and approached the woman to study it closely.

"Hmmm..." she emitted. Then quite suddenly, a flare of void energy erupted from her hand and a smaller scythe, more a hand sickle or even like an exotic kama if anyone had seen the weapon, formed out of the black and purple energy, white static shooting across the ephemeral weapon's length. Atma's expression remained blank, but she turned her hand this way and that studying her creation.

She nodded succinctly and the weapon vanished in a brief flash of dark light. Then she looked at Indrana directly as if finally acknowledging the woman's presence. She raises a hand to cover her mouth behind white lace.

"I like your wings," she said dully.


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Myth opens his mouth to respond to the women's question but as they proceed to bathe he shrugs and begins to study his spellbooks.

Once the white haired monster exits Myth strips down and spends several moments casting a spell the motions of which are exaggerated.

Spellcraft DC 12:
Bull Strength

He then tilts the tub over dumping the contents. He eyes his "handler" watching her fill the tub yet again. Despite his nakedness in full view he makes no snide remarks or clumsy sexual overtures. Once she is done he whispers, "Stand back".

Once again his hands pass through arcane motions, in fact it is the strangest spellcasting anyone in the group has ever seen. Overly dramatic and the language is some bastardized version of the arcane and it feels like forever until he is complete.

Spellcraft DC 12:
Flaming Sphere

When his motions are complete, a sphere of pure fire springs forth just above the tub rolling around on its edges, soon enough the once cold water is bubbling hot. The elf dismisses the spell and steps in, quickly wiping the filth and grime away. He then steps out and towels off. He walks briskly back to his belongings and changes into a new set of plain black Wizard garments donning a headband and ring. The wizard seems to own little else of value besides the books in his pack.

He again sits and flips the pages like a starving man would devour a delicious meal.


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma's sleepy eyes narrow as Mythaniel conjures a ball of fire over the water.

"Figures it would be you who has fire, Little Morsel," she mutters from behind lacy cuffs. She watches him bathe intently like a cat watching a caged bird.


Male Fetchling Ninja 9

The ashen-skinned fetchling remains quiet during the proceedings, watching with bland interest as the prisoners are unshackled. When his manacles are released, he quietly stretches his hands, in a purely symbolic gesture of freedom. Ever since he had been imprisoned, he never resisted or lashed out at his jailers, biding his time instead in quiet resignation. As such, he was never restrained in his captivity, and this shackling for transport to the courtroom was an unfamiliar and highly unpleasant sensation.

He regards his bundle of gear with interest. Still, he contains himself as the group heads to the stables. As the group bathes, it becomes conspicuous that this wiry man is surprisingly not dirty. He does briefly wash his hands in the cold water, pausing for a moment to run his fingers over the black widow spider tattoo on his forearm.

He turns to the bundle and dons his leather armor, tucking a variety of small blades all over his person. He pauses when he sees the largest of them - an elaborately decorated short sword. He holds it to his face and breathes in the scent, and then it, too, is sheathed at his side.

Through all of this he says nothing, but when Myth makes such a show of heating the bath water, he cannot resist. "I once knew a hedge witch, maybe fifteen years old, who could heat water with the touch of a finger. Prestidigitation, she called it. She could also clean herself thoroughly with it. Perhaps you will learn it one day." He turns and begins inspecting the horses.


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Myth grins at the Fetchling, "Who is to say I don't....."


Male Fetchling Ninja 9

Kanir grins, as Myth has clearly missed the point. "No doubt if you knew the spell, you would have used it. Otherwise we would be left to assume you wanted a showy display to impress the succubus." He looks over to where she stands. He leans in to whisper to Myth, "Actually I think she is impressed. Keep it up. I'd love to see how that turns out."


male human fighter 7 / assassin 2
Kanir Faine wrote:
"I once knew a hedge witch, maybe fifteen years old, who could heat water with the touch of a finger. Prestidigitation, she called it. She could also clean herself thoroughly with it. Perhaps you will learn it one day." He turns and begins inspecting the horses.

Eddin, fully-dressed, and also mysteriously clean, watches and listens with amusement. At Kanir's comment, he grins and turns to the smaller, grey-skinned man.

"You don't say, eh, Cool Guy? I bet that's all kinds of useful, especially if it means getting to sit back and watch this bunch strip down nekkid and jump around like a bunch of dinguses."

A keen observer might be able to notice Eddin fiddling with a chipped white ceramic ring on the middle finger of his left hand.


male human fighter 7 / assassin 2

Pointing to the demonic-looking woman and the white-haired girl, Eddin pulls a mock-concerned face, speaking to no one in particular.

"You two brought farm implements on this little camping trip? Oh, boy, I sure hope we're gonna be going off and fighting the evil underground barley people, because aside from that, those are just gonna get stuck in somebody and break. Trust me, I know."

He takes a moment to re-adjust the straps of his haversack, then suddenly turns back to the group.

"Hey, speaking of farm implements, I just remembered this one. Why did they give the old wheat farmer an award? 'Cause he was out standing in his field. I like that one."


male human fighter 7 / assassin 2

"How about this one: what did the field of rye say to the farmer with the scythe? I yield! I yield!"


female aasimar (musetouched) Bard/Cleric (ecclesiathurge) 11 Heirophant 3 | hp 122/122 | AC 25 , tac 21, ff 21 | CMB +8; CMD 28 | F +12, R +13, W +14 | Init +7 | Darkvision 60; ft Per +18| Bard Spells: 1st (6/6), 2nd (5/5), 3rd (5/5), 4th (3/3) | channel energy 5d6 (9/9) (dc 21); adoration 7/7 (dc 19) charming smile (11/11 rnds) (dc 19); touch of good 7,7; holy lance (7/7); performance (30/30); glaive +17 (1d10+6)

Indrana was on her guard when the strange white woman approached her and nearly reacted badly when that strange dark energy was summoned. She came to the quick conclusion that aggression wouldn't be acceptable so instead she stood and watched, no fear showing on her face, as the tiny sickle was summoned. When the weapon suddenly disappeared the tiefling was curious but unwilling to say so. The praise of her wings caused the formidable woman to mantle them and draw herself up in pride as she said, "They cost my sister her life and eternal soul, but they were a bargain well made for that traitorous b%#~!." She smiled slightly and said, "You, I like."


Elf Unchained Rogue 9
Quote:
Kanir grins, as Myth has clearly missed the point. "No doubt if you knew the spell, you would have used it. Otherwise we would be left to assume you wanted a showy display to impress the succubus." He looks over to where she stands. He leans in to whisper to Myth, "Actually I think she is impressed. Keep it up. I'd love to see how that turns out."

"My money is on the Succubus. BUT even odds says he dies happy." Ash says, having walked up up behind Kanir silent as a ghost.

The elf gives a grin.

"Excuse me, but if we are going to, eventually, be entering places where we likely aren't welcome, I'd rather do it with out giving us away by smelling bad enough to wilt foliage."

And the elf steps up to the presumably refilled water tub, removes his dirty prison shift, steps in and begins scrubbing. He is lean, unscarred, and similar to Kanir does not seem to be as dirty as the others. He scrubs quickly, apparently unmoved by whether or not he is observed, (although the effort to NOT say something when he catches one of his fellow female prisoners looking his way is obviously taxing his willpower. And he does wink once at the succubus.)

Finishing swiftly but without seeming to hurry, the elf exits and pulls out a blanket from his pack to dry off with. He wraps the towel around his waist and looks at Chandi.

"Thanks." he says politely, with a small smirk.
Somehow, even that simple thank you evokes the words 'Doll' and 'Sweetheart' without being actually said aloud.

Ash steps to his bundle and begins to pull out clothing. He seems to enjoy the simple act of dressing in clean clothes again. And he apparently likes fine if not extravagant things. His clothing consists of a pants, Heavy yet flexible boots, a shirt that looks like silk, a vest, a cape, bracers, gloves,... the list goes on. Seemingly every place on the humanoid body the elf seems to have found an item designed
to be worn there, exclusively by him. By the way that most of the items fit, they are likely nearly all magical.

Ash gives his rapier a experimental swing and smiles as it slices through the air. He slaps it into it's sling and pulls out a hat. He slips the sleek archer's cap, complete with feather, onto his head and settles it at a rakish angle.


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11
Kanir Faine wrote:
Kanir grins, as Myth has clearly missed the point. "No doubt if you knew the spell, you would have used it. Otherwise we would be left to assume you wanted a showy display to impress the succubus." He looks over to where she stands. He leans in to whisper to Myth, "Actually I think she is impressed. Keep it up. I'd love to see how that turns out."

"I have no doubts to your complete understanding of the motivations of all those you come into contact with. It explains why you were imprisoned, no doubt".


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Male Kyton-spawn Tiefling (Shackleborn) fighter 9; hp 107 of 107

Mareth, already dressed in his all-concealing suit of armour, makes no attempt to bathe or clean himself. He stands facing his new companions, idly swinging and hefting his two handed warhammer not a euphemism, as they each in turn bathe and dress. The sound of his breathing can be heard echoing within the confines of his helmet, which otherwise conceals his features and gaze.

… creep …


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma watches Ash bathe with as much intensity as she had Mythaniel. There is no sexual interest her eyes that much is obvious. Once or twice, her lips seem to part on their own. Her mouth is obscured by the lace from her cuffs as she continuously holds both hands in loose fists at chin level. Despite that someone watching closely will notice her seemingly bite the air. The gesture seems entirely subconscious as she stares at the elves.

When Indrana gives her approval, Atma nods her head to Indrana as if something unspoken has been decided.

She turns to Chandi.

"Take me to an elf I am allowed to hurt. I am thirsty."


Female Samsaran Warpriest 9;Init +2; Perception +10; AC 20/20/18, HP 84/84

While the team bathes and prepares themselves for the journey, Chandi stops to consult with the Ranger and the two guards, checks the packing and contents of the vardo, and selects a horse, spending a few quiet moments with it and a handful of oats to help make friends. She keeps a casual eye on the bathing tub, refilling it as needed. When the final bather has completed their ablutions, she mounts up, gesturing to the others to do likewise.

"Time to leave."

When all are ready, she nods to Fingàl to lead them out.


Male Kyton-spawn Tiefling (Shackleborn) fighter 9; hp 107 of 107

As the others are near to finished donning their gear, Mareth gurgles to get Mythaniel’s attention. Once the elf is looking at him, he makes a gesture with two gauntleted fingers towards the eye slits of his own helmet, then points the same fingers towards Chandi. If the elf seems to understand his gesture he nods (otherwise he simply shrugs), then abruptly moves, striding towards the black stallion at a speed which belies his heavy armour. If Fingal or Chandi stand in his way or seem to object, he turns his head slowly towards them, growls, and tightens the grip on his earthbreaker in a show of menace.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (10) + 21 = 31


Elf Unchained Rogue 9
Atma Leere wrote:

Atma watches Ash bathe with as much intensity as she had Mythaniel. There is no sexual interest her eyes that much is obvious. Once or twice, her lips seem to part on their own. Her mouth is obscured by the lace from her cuffs as she continuously holds both hands in loose fists at chin level. Despite that someone watching closely will notice her seemingly bite the air. The gesture seems entirely subconscious as she stares at the elves.

When Indrana gives her approval, Atma nods her head to Indrana as if something unspoken has been decided.

She turns to Chandi.

"Take me to an elf I am allowed to hurt. I am thirsty."

Ash's ears literally perk up at hearing this. He looks up, for the first time a bemused, if slightly worried look on his face.

"Somebody get that girl a Pint, please." he mutters sardonically, instinctively reaching up to protect his own neck, and frowning when his hand touches the new, unattractive, addition to his wardrobe.

"Yep. Time to go. The Ash is moving out." He says, smoothly but swiftly picking up his remaining pack and moving towards a nimble gelding he eyed earlier in the waiting horses.

At the silent Mareth's sudden display of obvious menace, Geygar visibly flinches. My DC to be intimidated is a 21. Holy Moley! :(

Into the sudden, tense, silence he pipes, "And get that man a cow to eat!"


Bribes always welcome
Mareth Gornn wrote:

As the others are near to finished donning their gear, Mareth gurgles to get Mythaniel’s attention. Once the elf is looking at him, he makes a gesture with two gauntleted fingers towards the eye slits of his own helmet, then points the same fingers towards Chandi. If the elf seems to understand his gesture he nods (otherwise he simply shrugs), then abruptly moves, striding towards the black stallion at a speed which belies his heavy armour. If Fingal or Chandi stand in his way or seem to object, he turns his head slowly towards them, growls, and tightens the grip on his earthbreaker in a show of menace.

[dice=Intimidate]1d20 + 21

Fingàl steps in to intercept Mareth from reaching his steed. The imposing sight of the giant armor-clad figure growling visibly shakes the ranger


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Myth's eyes widen at the prospect the large warrior is proposing, he watches Chandi intently to see her reaction both physical and verbal.


Female Samsaran Warpriest 9;Init +2; Perception +10; AC 20/20/18, HP 84/84

"What foolishness is this? Trying to steal a horse from the Duke's man in the Duke's own stable in the very shadow of the Dark Tower from which you were just released?" Chandi snaps from atop her own gelding, "You are either reckless or stupid. Either way, you would endanger this mission and the freedom of your fellows. Now would be a good time to return to your cell."

She turns to regard the others. "Unless you want him with you. He jeopardizes all of you. What say you? Should he be returned to his cell or do you want him in the group? Now is the time to speak. You have seen his foolhardiness in action. What say you, Geygar, Atma, Eddin, Indrana, Mythaniel, Kanir? Should Mareth remain with us, yea or nay?"


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma watches Mareth's aggression with a bored expression. When Chandi asks for the villains' opinions, she shrugs. Raising her hands to her face as usual, she says,

"Lady Blue. You're blue. I like that. I like that a lot."

Atma gestures to the heavily armored tiefling. "He's not blue, so I like him less, but he has the right idea. We're only here because you are a threat. If you can't deal with this, then why are we listening to you? And if he scares you and your uninteresting non-blue, I'll-probably-kill-when-I-have-chance helpers then he'll scare whoever it is you want us to murder."

Atma literally skips closer to Mareth and Chandi. Her red eyes start to widen, the sleepy look fading. "I like seeing things scared. I like that a lot. McGrowly seems to to be good at scaring things. Scared things taste better. Their hearts beat faster. That's good. Blood is best when it's moving. Not all sludgey. So we should keep him."

Atma cocks her head, lace cuffs still covering her fangs, and says, "Are you scarier than McGrowly, Lady Blue? Are you ready to be the Biggest Baddest Blue Baby on Team Killer? Maybe Mcgrowly just wants to know that. I want to know that. It would mean an awful lot to me to see you kill someone even if it is my scary McGrowly."

Atma's eyes start to glow red as she watches Chandi with intensity. Her own intentions a mystery.


Female Samsaran Warpriest 9;Init +2; Perception +10; AC 20/20/18, HP 84/84

Chandi sighs and stifles a yawn. "You are here because you want freedom, and perhaps because you enjoy the idea of loosing violence on whatever threatens us from the underdark. I am not a threat; I am a protector. I am to protect you from harm, and the land and its people from you. If I harm you, I end up having to heal you - a pointless waste. If I kill you, that is one fewer opponent for the land's foes. Harm me, and you die - again, pointless. It is in all our best interest to cooperate. It really is that simple."


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma continues to watch Chandi, listening and waiting.


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Myth watches the interaction with interest, " He must stay. This is probably the least aggressive he can be. .."


Elf Unchained Rogue 9

Geygar rolls his eyes, from safely behind the others where they can't see him.

(It is likely not lost on anyone in this group that whenever they move, 'Ash' tends to drift towards the back of the group, where he is can see all going on in front of him. Or where he is the hardest to keep track of.)

"Yeah,... Much as I hate to agree with dark and gloomy here, Miss Scary Maid has a point. If what we're going to go visit is as bad as,... well, everyone, obviously THINKS it is, I'd rather have McGrowly here between them and me than you. No offense Blue. I'm sure your healing skills are Divine" Geygar smirks at his own pun.

"What general once said, 'The best Defense is a Big, Scary Offense'?" He asks innocently.


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Mythaniel smirks at Ash, "I surmise you hate to agree with anyone because you are a contrarian. Still you do have some wisdom, after all, you agreed with me".


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma takes a very deliberate step towards Chandi. Her red eyes unwaveringly locked on the samsaran.


Male Fetchling Ninja 9

While the confrontation unfolds, Kanir hangs back where he was, carefully watching the prisoners' handlers. As their argument intensifies, he takes advantage of the distraction to slip into the shadows, using his mysterious arts to vanish entirely. He quickly and quietly steps to the exit of the stable, looking to make a getaway.

I can run to ground. There's got to be an alley or sewer grate here to slip away. I'm sure a few of my old contacts are still about. The right arcanist could make short work of this accursed collar.

Using vanishing trick to turn invisible and run off.

Stealth to attempt this unnoticed and quietly: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (2) + 20 = 22


Male Kyton-spawn Tiefling (Shackleborn) fighter 9; hp 107 of 107

Mareth advances on the tall but relatively slight half elven ranger, his hammer raised high as if to strike. Whilst clearly unnerved, the half elf does not move aside. When Chandi calls out, Mareth pauses and turns his helmeted head slowly towards the blue-skinned woman. Once she has said her piece and called for a vote on his actions, he turns back to face the ranger. Lowering his weapon, he nods once at the man, a gesture which almost seems like it might contain respect or understanding.

Stepping back, Mareth faces his new companions, seeming to patiently await their judgement of him. Three of them speak – he waits for a fourth.


Male Kyton-spawn Tiefling (Shackleborn) fighter 9; hp 107 of 107

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10


Female Samsaran Warpriest 9;Init +2; Perception +10; AC 20/20/18, HP 84/84

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

"I suppose you win the day by majority rule already, Mr. Gornn, though it wou;ld be nice to hear from Mr. Costayne, Miss Idrana, and Mr. Faine. Wait... Mr. Faine? Show yourself, please."

After a moment's pause, Chandi raises her voice. "Kanir Faine, show yourself. You have to the count of ten. 10... 9... 8...."


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Myth looks around for the Fetchling, "Perhaps he is simply displaying his talents for you oh Mistress of the Cursed Collars".


Male Fetchling Ninja 9

Kanir freezes when he hears his name called. They've noticed I am gone already. This is not the time to be timid. He reaches the stable door and peers out to see if the coast is clear.


Female Samsaran Warpriest 9;Init +2; Perception +10; AC 20/20/18, HP 84/84

"Very well!" Chandi calls. She wheels her mount and dashes out of the stable.

DM PM


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Myth, not interested in seeing if the collar will work on himself, mounts and follows their Handler.


Male Kyton-spawn Tiefling (Shackleborn) fighter 9; hp 107 of 107

Mareth walks over to a gelding, quickly checks the straps on the saddle and mounts up. He wheels the horse about and rides out after Chandi and Myth, still hoping to observe the effects of the collar – all the better if it is not on himself.


female aasimar (musetouched) Bard/Cleric (ecclesiathurge) 11 Heirophant 3 | hp 122/122 | AC 25 , tac 21, ff 21 | CMB +8; CMD 28 | F +12, R +13, W +14 | Init +7 | Darkvision 60; ft Per +18| Bard Spells: 1st (6/6), 2nd (5/5), 3rd (5/5), 4th (3/3) | channel energy 5d6 (9/9) (dc 21); adoration 7/7 (dc 19) charming smile (11/11 rnds) (dc 19); touch of good 7,7; holy lance (7/7); performance (30/30); glaive +17 (1d10+6)

The entire thing was happening too fast for her, first Mareth tried to start s$!# as a test, then Chandi gave them all a chance to weigh in on things, and before she knew it Chandi was yelling for Kanir. The sudden charge of Chandi out of the stables on her horse caught the fiendish woman even more off guard and left Indrana standing there dumbfounded. She realized that this could be bad if Chandi went too far too fast and Indrana knew she needed to mount up quickly if she wanted to live. She quickly grabbed a saddle and began to try and put it on a horse only to remember her second problem as the animal started to panic at her approach.

Indrana had always had trouble with animals as it seemed they always sensed the evil inside of her, at least that's what she was told when she was growing up, and it made dealing with horses particularly difficult. She quickly reached out and popped the horse in the nose just hard enough to startle it as she snapped out, "Behave or I will gut you, understand?" She then reached into a pouch in her bag to pull out an apple, "Behave and be rewarded." She held it out on her palm to the animal and seemed to get through to it as the creature calmed a bit. While the horse ate the treat she placed the saddle on it and made sure it was secure before swinging up and moving to catch up to Chandi.


male human fighter 7 / assassin 2
Chandi wrote:
Chandi sighs and stifles a yawn. "You are here because you want freedom, and perhaps because you enjoy the idea of loosing violence on whatever threatens us from the underdark. I am not a threat; I am a protector. I am to protect you from harm, and the land and its people from you. If I harm you, I end up having to heal you - a pointless waste. If I kill you, that is one fewer opponent for the land's foes. Harm me, and you die - again, pointless. It is in all our best interest to cooperate. It really is that simple."

Eddin stays uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole exchange, eyeing each of the others in turn, an almost beatific smile on his face. After Chandi speaks, he raises his hand, as if asking for permission to speak, then speaks anyway.

"You know, lady, I think we should let Mr. Sunshine stay. He might look like a big gray sausage with a coal scuttle on his head, but deep down, he's a big ol' softie. And besides, if you did decide to..."

Eddin makes a pinching motion with two fingers.

"...*pop* his little noggin with your thingy there, we'd all have a good laugh about it, and he wouldn't even be around to feel bad. As far as I'm concerned, it's a win-win scenario."

He lowers his hand, resting it on the pommel of his sheathed sword.

"Say, you never did answer my question back there. I bet you've got a lovely singing voice. I know a couple good tunes you could try on for size. The rest of you can all sing along while we're on the road. Oh, but before that, did you ever hear the one about the guy who was sentenced to death by hanging? His execution was suspended temporarily, but eventually, they cut him loose."


male human fighter 7 / assassin 2
Indrana wrote:
"Behave or I will gut you, understand?" She then reached into a pouch in her bag to pull out an apple, "Behave and be rewarded."

"I like the way you think, cowgirl. They taste even better if you feed them lots of apples first."


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma's eyes return to their normal red, the glow fading quickly. She watches the commotion of people racing to leave after Chandi without concern. After a moment she begins to look around the stables eventually locating a stool probably used by horse groomers. She fluffs her dress out and then sits down leaning her elbows on her knees. Only once, Atma reaches up and touches the collar she is forced to wear. Then she placed her chin in her hands and waits.

Her choice. That's all that mattered. Chandi would become a killer. That was all that was important now. Their handler hadn't asked anyone to follow, so Atma wasn't defying her. It was Chandi's choice to leave Atma in danger of death. Every step it drew closer. Every hoofbeat further away...Atma's breath became ragged with anticipation. She began to rock back and forth as the end approached. Her choice. Chandi's choice. Her and Chandi's choice. They had made it together. It was important that they both chose it.

Atma's heart beat faster and faster...

Well...I'm guessing it's possible Atma may not be making it past this part. If so, I still had fun!


Bribes always welcome
Chandi wrote:

"Very well!" Chandi calls. She wheels her mount and dashes out of the stable.

DM PM

Received

All of a sudden, no one can breathe. Their airways feel completely shut, and no air reaches their lungs. They claw at the collars, but they do not move. Darkness closes down as oxygen deprivation causes them to lose consciousness


Female Samsaran Warpriest 9;Init +2; Perception +10; AC 20/20/18, HP 84/84

As Chandi trots back to the stable yard, she is surprised to encounter Myth riding to follow her, now clutching at his throat as he wobbles atop his horse. She knots her hand in the back of his robes and hauls him across her horse in front of her so he doesn't drop from his own horse and break his neck in the fall.

In the courtyard, she lowers him gently to the ground and signals the guards to help her locate her charges and drag them into an unconscious group, then get the vardo and Ranger ready to ride out. She notes that some of her charges seemed to be readying to follow and nods to herself approvingly.

As the group begins to stir, she sits cross-legged on the ground before them, lecturing. If they do not wake naturally, she will stand in the middle of the group and send healing energies washing over them until they do.

"You are a team. You live as a team. You work as a team. You fight as a team. You suffer the consequences of poor choice as a team."

She points to Kanir. "Mr. Faine has been your teacher today. He has taught you the consequences of making poor choices. You may thank him in a nonlethal fashion once we make camp for the night. Now you all understand viscerally what can happen. Make no mistake: it is a valuable lesson."

"I will be riding out in five minutes, following our guide. It will take no more than a quarter hour's steady riding to be at a lethal distance. I, for one, believe now what the Duke told us about these collars. I trust you do, as well. Mount up and come along. Enjoy the sunlight, the ride, the wind, and your new freedom, however limited that might be. If you need healing, come to me before we leave."

She rises and checks her horse's tack before mounting up and waiting the five minutes.

To give you a time frame, she rode out of sight around a corner or two, triggered the collars, waited a couple of minutes, then road back. She did not go nearly far enough away nor trigger it for long enough to decapitate anyone.


Male Kyton-spawn Tiefling (Shackleborn) fighter 9; hp 107 of 107

As he feels his breath begin to restrict, Mareth tries to dismount from his horse, so as to avoid a spill if he loses consciousness. Ride: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

In has haste, and short of breath, he misjudges, and falls heavily. damage: 1d6 ⇒ 5

As he lies on the ground, no air entering his lungs, he tries to hold out against unconsciousness as long as possible, as well as watching to see if any of the others have managed to remain conscious as he passes out.


Male Kyton-spawn Tiefling (Shackleborn) fighter 9; hp 107 of 107

Once conscious, Mareth stands and waits impassively while Chandi speaks, showing no real sign of taking her words to heart. But perhaps he was as listening, for after a moment he takes off his helmet, letting the warm sunshine fall upon his face. The bright light shines through his translucent skin.

He bends to draw a dagger from his pack, and swiftly cuts through the threads stitching his lips together. He spends a few moments moving his jaw (though still does not speak), as a trickle of blood runs down his chin where he nicked himself with the dagger. At one point he looks at Chandi and smiles without mirth, blood staining his teeth red, seeming to be mentally cataloguing something.

Then he busies himself retrieving his gelding, stowing his gear and re-mounting, ready to leave when Chandi is.


Male Fetchling Ninja 9

As the collar constricts his airways, Kanir becomes light-headed, and the pending prospect of his impending mortality becomes perfectly clear. He falls to his hands and knees, clawing at the pavement and at the collar around his throats in turn. He wills away his invisibility in time for Chandi to find him there in the street.

He does not respond to Chandi's lecture, and merely glares at her sullenly. This, then, is the Spider Queen's will. I will do the work of the Huntress with this band of outlaws. Perhaps, if fortune smiles on me, the blue-skinned priestess may also be a sacrifice before this is over.


HP 97/97 (106/106) | NL 27 | Burn 3/7 | AC 18 T 13 FF 15 | Init +3 | Per +12 LLV/DV 60ft | Save: F +10 R +9 W +3 | El. Over +2 Dex/+2 Con
Save related:
(+1 vs. emotion effects); +1 insight to all magic schools; +2 vs. disease and mind-affecting effects
Defense / Resist / Weakness:
Defensive abilities: fortification 5%, negative energy affinity | Resist: negative energy 2, undead resistance | Weakness to consecrate (CL -1)

Atma awakens groggily, her breathing come in the familiar ragged burns.

Ah, she considers. Just like the other collar then.

Looking around, she realizes Chandi is imperiously explaining their function and action must be cooperative. She struggles to her feet. Atma sees her fellow prisoners also beginning to wake. She begins counting heads. One, two, three...

Everyone was alive. Her sleepy eyes narrow, and she returns her gaze to Chandi.

"How boring," she mutters.

She grabs her pack and slings it onto her shoulder as if it is nearly weightless and approaches Chandi moving much, much too close unless stopped.

"I want to ride with you, Lady Blue," the petite dhampir says disinterestedly from behind lace cuffs. "I won't bite."


Male Shadow's Status | Elven Wizard (Spellsage) 9 - HP = 49 | AC = 13 (17 Current & DEATH WARD) | CMD = 17 | F +4 | R +6 | W +6 (+2 vs. Enchant) | Init +7 | Per + 11

Myth glances at the Handler irritated, "I believed in the powers of the collar as I put a great deal more faith in magic than people. You have now demonstrated that you are truly a tool of the Kingdom you serve, all are punished when only one is guilty, at least those who have no other recourse or influence are punished". He stands and walks away quite irritated with the Handler at the moment.

He approaches the mountain of a warrior and speaks ever so softly,

Mareth - Infernal:
"Do you speak the language of devils". He stares at the stitched mouth and revises his comment, "Perhaps I should say do you understand the speech as you seem to be the silent deadly type".

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