Swords in Sigil

Game Master Patrick Curtin

[Munches on a sausage]

The party heads out into the gloomy day and wends their way back towards the Bell and Whistle tavern. Marriet throws the Masque a sausage, which he munches. It is actually pretty good, very spicy and dripping with juices.

The tavern is open, despite the early hour. They see a few new loafers at the door, sharpening various cutlery.

Actions??

He walks up and tries to head in. "Looking for Imogen heard they might have a job for us?"

Before getting there, The Masque regisguises him and the Badger as Eleazar the Electric Blue and whatever the other one was.

Yes, my good man, could you point out this Imogen fellow?

[Scans the tavern floor]

One of the loafers points a finger towards the back

"SHE's inside by the hearth. Can't miss her, she's the Githyanki wif the big silver sword"

"Thanks Berk."

He makes his way towards the hearth to talk with Imogen.

Ooh, a githyanki, have we ever run into one of them, Badger?

The Masque follows along.

Near the hearth of the Bell and Whistle a large table holds a half-dozen hard cases sipping caffe and eating sausages and eggs. At the head sits a strange alien-looking humanoid.
The humanoid looks very emaciated, their face angular and their nose just a bare suggestion of nostrils. Their skin is a silvery-grey, their beaded dreadlocked hair raven black. A pair of pumpkin-orange eyes track the trio as they walk towards the table. A large sword is positioned on the humanoid's back, sheathed in some exotic animal hide scabbard.
In contrast to the being's dull skin tones, it is clothed in gaudy silks and lots of gold gem-studded jewelry

"I don't think we have had to fight them but I have hung out with them a few times. Learned some fighting styles from them a guy named Kalistad nasty guy. Probably don't want to get in a fight with this one if we can avoid it."

When they get closer he gives her a nod. "You Imogen? We heard you are hiring for jobs. We are looking for work."

[The Crimson Masque waits to see if The Badger can handle the githyanki, or if the Masque's diplomatic skills are required]

Imogen looks up, her bright orange eyes framed in odd patterns of face paint. Small golden rings pierce the hairless silver skin above her eyes where eyebrows would normally be..

"Are yeh now? Well, I do have work wot needs doing." She(?) says, her voice a flat monotone with no trace of emotion

"Wot's yer specialties and wot's yer rate?"

"We are good in tough spots. Wet work if need be. I am more the blunt instrument he is more the scalpel. "

"As for how much do we cost? We aren't cheap but he does most of the negotiations. Me I am more the of the eye candy can't you tell?"

He moves aside to let Crimmy work his silver tongue to get a price. Normally they get 600 gp for each of them a lot of times they go for 1,000 gp for them two of them.

The Masque waits to see what Imogen says before turning on the charm. Although, indeed, we don't cheap, we're also on a secret mission, so moolah isn't the main objective. On the other hand, we can always use moolah.

Imogen listens, her grey face unreadable

"I think you lot may be above what were needing. We need soldiers, not high-priced Mercs. However, if you are in town for any length of time I could see if we have any work for you "

(OOC: He did not give numbers yet to how much they charged that was a number I threw out there as a starting point for Crimson. Sorry should have put that in parenthesis.)

"What's the job? What kind soldiers you need? We are short on cash maybe we can work something out."

The Masque snaps to attention.

Murgatroid the Mauve, reporting for duty, ma'am!

About faces a bunch, presents arms and salutes.

EDIT: The Masque salutes satanically, in honor of this being the six hundreth and sixty-sixth post in the Swords in Sigil thread.

Mad Badger zips it up since Murgatroid has stepped into the conversation. he steps back from Crimson and shows him deference. Following suit he also stands at attention.

Imogen smiles, an unsettling alien grin full of pointed teeth and gold bridgework

"We're looking for cully bashers*, zergers*, redhanders*. There's a lot of messy work to be done in Plaguemort, and the Alignment is nigh"

Cant:

Oh yeah, we can do all three, easy peasy. Eleazar here has bashed innumerable cullies, and we've both seen plenty of service zerging, haven't we, Ellie?

"Yeah that's right Murgatroid even done our share of redhanding but I am especially good at cully bashing."

Imogene nods

"Ok I'll send you on a mission with some of my lads. 50 Ladies as a taste, plus loot rights. You do what my lad Alrek tells yeh, and everything will be fine. Return here at first dark"

Company dis-missed!

The Masque stands at ease.

So, where's this Alrek chap?

Badger goes into parade rest standing at ease. Waiting to see who this Alrek is and if he can take him if need be since he always sizes people up on whether or not he feel he can take them in a fight.

Imogen smiles her unsettling smile

"Alrek will be here at dark. Come back then."

She makes a shooing motion

"Be off. I have things to do"

Never enjoying being shooed away he grimaces holds it in and turns to walk away.

Will Save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

Fortunately he makes his will save and does not make any comment.

"So where too now Murgatroid? We have some time to waste but no real cash? How much cash do you have on hand? I think I have like 5 gold."

Murgatroid steps out into the street and looks for a busy intersection to busk from.

When he does, he summons instrument and plays for tips.

Let's see if we can pick up some quick cash and get something to eat, Murgatroid says.

[The Crimson Masque wails]

Perform 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (20) + 14 = 34

The Masque does such a good job, he manages to squeeze a good living out of the surly tieflings of Plaguemort

coins tossed gp/sp/cp: 3d20 ⇒ (6, 7, 4) = 174d30 ⇒ (30, 27, 28, 30) = 1155d40 ⇒ (15, 10, 8, 19, 16) = 68

if nothing else, I'll forward to evening

Thank you, Plaguemort!!!

We go and eat then meet back to find Alrek and get a job.

"Oh and Nobody rocks like .... Plaguemort !!!!!"

The valiant trio return to the Bell and Whistle as the sky over the city darkens. No sun sets, but the light begins to dim and more ... Fiendish folk begin to emerge

Imogen sees them and beckons

"This is Alrek. He runs the North West Quadrant Gang. I want you to head out with him and do as he says"

Alrek grins

"A larky bit of mischief we will have my cutters!"

Oh yes, my droogs, perhaps a visit to the milk bar and then some of the old in-out, in-out?

[The Masque sizes Alrek up]

Perception 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Nevermind

Badger takes a look as well to see what he can see about this waif dandy type. But he knows looks can be deceiving.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

He also checks out the others included in this band.

"Okay you are the boss Imogen."

"So what sorta mischief are we talking about Alrek? Cully bashing or redhanding?"

Alrek smiles a toothy grin

"A cully bashed here, the good red flowing there, perhaps a purse or two of jink turned to our uses. The streets of plaguemort never disappoint!"

"Okay then what are we waiting for lets get to it."

[Sings a song in Nadsat]

"Okay let's roll."

Looks to Crimmy to kick his theme music. Every hero has it.

Mad Badger's Theme Music

[Kind of a mood-changer, but The Crimson Masque is nothing if not versatile]

"So where too first Alrek?"

Alrek nods

"Come with me, my cullybashers, and we shall howl the sweet music of chaos tonight!"

He leads them on out the tavern and into the gloomy darkness. Four others accompany him. He introduces them as Candle, Pork, Fizzlang, and Spider. Pork is a large beefy sort, Candle tall and skinny with a feral look. Fizzlang would look normal, but for a pair of bulging fish-like eyes. Spider is a tiefling, whose mother must have preferred non-humanoid trysts. His head is covered in coarse hair, and his mouth has a pair of gripping mandibles attached. He doesn't sport eight eyes, but he has four, all on little fleshy stalks that bend around disconcertingly. All Alreks friends are armed with mean-looking maces and daggers aplenty. The Spider has an intricate hand-crossbow strapped to his right forearm.

"Tonight we pays a visit to the Tramp's Friary. 'E hasn't been spooning out the jinky jink he's been tasked to provide. Perhaps we shall have to uncork the red, but lets see if Tramp can come up with the vig."

Alrek dances along the filthy streets, singing off key. The others follow, relatively silent, except for Pork who is constantly touching a flask to his large-lipped face.

Eventually they arrive at a large crumbling building. Several old men and women sit on the stoop, sharing a gallon growler of some drink. Alrek addresses them.

"Fetch me the Tramp, and be quick about it, old sodddys!"

One of the rag-clad women gets up and totters in. A few moments later an old man appears. Better-dressed than his friends, he scowls at Alrek.

"I pay me dues to the Hounds. I got nowt to do with yeh. Be off 'fore I call on them"

Alrek smiles wickedly

"I've palavered this bit with yeh before, my foine trampish man. Yer under the Illuminated's protection now, and there's nowt the Hounds will do for yeh. They're too busy tryin' to keep the burg from sliding into the Abyss. So, you know the vig, so stand and deliver."

Pausing here in case you want to do something

Seeing how this may end he looks to save the old coot some pain and intimidate the old guy into paying.

"Oie there Tramp. Pay up or get beat up or maybe worse."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

The Crimson Masque summons instrument and starts picking a melody.

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 Aid Another

The old man stands strong for a moment, then crumbles.

"Yeh'll have yer jink, one minute."

He disappears, then returns with a small cloth bag. Alrek scoops it up, hefting it and peeking inside.

"Right. Time for you to piss off. Come my friends, the night awaits!"

Alrek leads them down a few streets, until they see a group of Hounds standing at a corner.

"Dogs! Theiving eggsucking mutts, all a-sniff each other's bungholes! " Alrek crows. "'Tis time to let the red flow like sour wine!"

He unsheathes a longsword and rushes at the three Hounds. Candle, Fizzlang, Pork and Spider follow suit

Actions??

Mad Badger has been itching for a fight.

He draws Pain Bringer and Quick Death. "Ah this is my kinda job."

(OOC: How many Hounds are there?)

Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

He moves to attack the toughest looking Hound and try to make short work of him.

Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 281d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 81d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 231d8 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 91d8 + 71d6 + 7 ⇒ (7) + (4, 3, 6, 5, 6, 2, 1, 3, 3, 2, 6, 1, 5, 1, 5, 5, 4, 6, 5, 6, 3, 5, 3, 4, 6, 6, 4, 1, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 1, 6, 1, 1, 4, 4, 1, 2, 4, 6, 5, 2, 4, 6, 3, 3, 1, 3, 5, 5, 5, 5, 3, 2, 5, 5, 1, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 3, 4, 3, 3) + 7 = 282

Woah, 71d6?!?

Initiative: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

The Masque casts haste on the Badger, drops his instrument, and unsheathes his weapons.

(OOC: I left out a space between the 1d8+7 and the 1d6+7, opps. Can't edit it now either. Sorry Patrick. Want to use the first rolls there so it is 4+7=11 damage. The second attack likely did not hit but the first and third did so 9+11=20 damage?)

Or would you I rather reroll?

Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

1st Attack: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 231d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 201d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

Damage: 1d8 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 131d8 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 141d6 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

Hey folks. Trying to come back

Initiatives:
Doing some in groups for ease

Badger: 20
Masque: 17
NWQG (Alrek&sods): 14
Hounds: 11

The Mad Badger wades in, blades flashing. His three cuts go true, and one of the Hounds is already reeling. The Masque Casts Haste on Badger Alrek and crew too?, turning the kilted orc into a flurry of death.

The Hound on the Badger drives in with his sword

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 61d8 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

His feeble blow comes nowhere near Kravok

The Masque Casts Haste on Badger Alrek and crew too?,

On as many as I can--I forget, how many NPCs are with us? Also, Frumious gets dibs over some random redshirted interplanar thug.