The woman's forehead furrows just a bit and her bottom lip puckers just a hair as she works through what Chancre's said, then she breaks out into the smile again. "So you do want to check in with Faxon," a pause, and a decided nod, "To get the lay of the land."
She motions to the man who, still helmeted, nods. "Just follow Fisk." If the group does so, she falls into stride next to Drea, quietly, "I know I haven't met you before. Trust me, I'd remember."
"Yes," says Chancre. "To get the lay of the land. City was much more vertical when we left it."
Samirah merely smiles and nods at Chancre's statement, falling in step with Konstantin as they follow Fisk. She looks up at him, tracing her bottom lip with her thumb, then casually reaching up and tucking her hair over the ear on the side facing him.
Samirah merely smiles and nods at Chancre's statement, falling in step with Konstantin as they follow Fisk. She looks up at him, tracing her bottom lip with her thumb, then casually reaching up and tucking her hair over the ear on the side facing him.
Konstantin ducks his head slightly, whispers a few words and points at Samirah.
Konstantin's face lights up and he walks a little straighter.
Fisk leads the group down a dangerous set of stairs, no rail and part of the stairs half fallen away, down, into the substructure protected from the destruction above. About halfway down, the woman in the back flashes a bright smile at Drea and the other towards the tail end of the group.
Fisk knocks on a small wooden door before opening it and ducking through. "Boss?"
The entrance to the underground study shrine, is low - not even 5-feet, forcing you do duck as you enter the large circular room.
Inside a red-skinned man with a same symbol of Baphomet seen at Topaz Solutions carved into his chest looks up, a scorpion scampering up from his hand to his shoulder, stand up when the door opens. "Guests?" Addressing Fisk in the front.
"Yep!" the woman chimes in from the back. "Just the faithful."
"Nice to meet you... Faxon, I take it?"
She motions to the man who, still helmeted, nods. "Just follow Fisk." If the group does so, she falls into stride next to Drea, quietly, "I know I haven't met you before. Trust me, I'd remember."
The change that has happened in Drea's body language is nothing short of remarkable. With a subtle shift, somehow it is impossible to ignore the fact that beneath her clothes, she is completely naked, that her tongue is running behind her fangs, that her tail, swaying almost hypnotically, is as nimble as a third hand. The gaze she gives the woman is frankly assessing.
"Yes," she says, "You would."
The change that has happened in Drea's body language is nothing short of remarkable. With a subtle shift, somehow it is impossible to ignore the fact that beneath her clothes, she is completely naked, that her tongue is running behind her fangs, that her tail, swaying almost hypnotically, is as nimble as a third hand. The gaze she gives the woman is frankly assessing.
"Yes," she says, "You would."
There is just the briefest of pauses before the woman responds, her eyes caught by a trick of the light seem melancholy just for a moment, before the bright smile comes back. She's a little thing, just a few inches above five-feet, but with a stride that would do an amazon proud. "Kyle Error," the brunette says, her smile reaching her eyes, "And promise you won't forget me either."
"Nice to meet you... Faxon, I take it?"
"Yes," the man says, slowly at first but with building confidence, "You have reports for me from scouting throughout the city?"
"Yes. There are various groups of looters, as you'd expect, but also a rebuilding effort. Really, it's mostly just fallen into chaos up there. Most people have no guidance and are quick to give in to their baser selves."
"Ah" he smiles with a self-satisfied air, "all is as planned then." He stretches a bit, "Which means it shouldn't be long until Minagho sends us on to a new city and a new set of tasks."
"Kyle," the woman straightens, "you can take them back up and make sure that they are settled in comfortably."
She bows her head after just a moment, "Yes, boss."
"That's good to hear; it's a little cold here for my tastes. Is there anything else you'd like us to do?"
Faxon shakes his head, waving casually to the door, then he stops stock still as something occurs to him, "If he," he looks at the group, "or she isn't too tired, I'd appreciate a more detailed report from your group's scout."
Samirah nods, turning once more to her friends. "I think we have enough information for a more detailed report, right?"
Her hand is going to the scimitar at her hip, and she's got fire in her eyes.
Samirah nods, turning once more to her friends. "I think we have enough information for a more detailed report, right?"
Her hand is going to the scimitar at her hip, and she's got fire in her eyes.
Konstantin nods, frost riming his forearm.
There is just the briefest of pauses before the woman responds, her eyes caught by a trick of the light seem melancholy just for a moment, before the bright smile comes back. She's a little thing, just a few inches above five-feet, but with a stride that would do an amazon proud. "Kyle Error," the brunette says, her smile reaching her eyes, "And promise you won't forget me either."
"I'm called Drea. And I assure you I will not." A shift in tone, like a throttle being eased back, less overtly sexual, more companionable. "So. How long have you been involved in ...?" Drea makes a motion with her hand to indicate the Cult.
"I'm called Drea. And I assure you I will not." A shift in tone, like a throttle being eased back, less overtly sexual, more companionable. "So. How long have you been involved in ...?" Drea makes a motion with her hand to indicate the Cult.
"Just about ten years now?" She thinks about it for a moment before nodding in confirmation. "One of the sisters..."
Her eyes had grown distant for a minute, a mix of emotions, none soft or happy clear in them, she shakes her head. "Long enough that it feels good to not have to hide myself for a little bit. It's a good feeling when long planning and work finally comes to fruition."
The change that has happened in Drea's body language is nothing short of remarkable. With a subtle shift, somehow it is impossible to ignore the fact that beneath her clothes, she is completely naked, that her tongue is running behind her fangs, that her tail, swaying almost hypnotically, is as nimble as a third hand. The gaze she gives the woman is frankly assessing.
"Yes," she says, "You would."
Watching Drea's shift of body language, Míril's eyes go a bit glassy as she shifts her hips distractedly. She then shakes her head to clear her head and continues up the stairs.
Míril sighs. And subterfuge was going so well her body language seems to say. Nevertheless, she draws her short sword and moves to put Error between her and Drea so she can flank him. And then puts her sword into his fleshy bits.
Roshan
AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 12. . (+5 Dex, +2 Monk(wisdom))
hp 25 (3d8+6)
Fort +5, Ref +7, Will +5
masterwork: +1
Point Blank: +1/+1
Flurry of Blows: -1
Deadly Aim: -1/+2
Roshan slides to get a slightly better angle. A circular blade and heavy knife flash through the air towards the red skinned leader.
More important, combat wise, I'll have you hold if Drea goes before you so that you can get flanking, since she would have to shift 5-feet as well.
Samirah looks back on Drea and Kyle, then to Miril, shaking her head and smiling before turning around again.
Samirah darts past Fisk to attack Faxon directly.
"Just about ten years now?" She thinks about it for a moment before nodding in confirmation. "One of the sisters..."
Her eyes had grown distant for a minute, a mix of emotions, none soft or happy clear in them, she shakes her head. "Long enough that it feels good to not have to hide myself for a little bit. It's a good feeling when long planning and work finally comes to fruition."
"By the way, has there been any ..." Drea seems to be trying to figure out the best way to formulate a question. "Areelu Vorslesh. Any news?"
Action: Go into Crane Style, 5-foot step to a good position for possible flanking, grapple Kyle, fighting defensively.
AC 23 (21 if grappling)
CMD for grappling purposes: 29
hp 19
Special Defenses Evasion
Fire resistance 5, cold resistance 5, electricity resistance 5
Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +6
"By the way, has there been any ..." Drea seems to be trying to figure out the best way to formulate a question. "Areelu Vorslesh. Any news?"
"Last missive from Minagho came earlier today." A easy shrug, "Faxon isn't comfortable being in charge yet," considering withholding information from the new comers is clear on her face, in the discomfort of her body, "He found out Pax had been embezzling to feed an addiction." Another shake of her head, this one indicating disgust more than discomfort. "Understandably he isn't really comfortable with disseminating information, but I'm sure you'll notice that when you report in."
"Last missive from Minagho came earlier today." A easy shrug, "Faxon isn't comfortable being in charge yet," considering withholding information from the new comers is clear on her face, in the discomfort of her body, "He found out Pax had been embezzling to feed an addiction." Another shake of her head, this one indicating disgust more than discomfort. "Understandably he isn't really comfortable with disseminating information, but I'm sure you'll notice that when you report in."
"Thanks for letting me know," Drea says. "But I'm sorry, you were talking about how you were brought in ... Ten years ago, so you would have been, fourteen, fifteen? Or do I misjudge?"
"Thanks for letting me know," Drea says. "But I'm sorry, you were talking about how you were brought in ... Ten years ago, so you would have been, fourteen, fifteen? Or do I misjudge?"
"Fishing for a girl's age?" Kyle says with a laugh in her voice. She bumps the woman next to her with a hip, "Don't worry, I'm old enough."
"Fishing for a girl's age?" Kyle says with a laugh in her voice. She bumps the woman next to her with a hip, "Don't worry, I'm old enough."
"Fair enough," Drea says. "I'll ask something else then. Where are you from? Mendev recruit, or did you grow up further West?"
"Fair enough," Drea says. "I'll ask something else then. Where are you from? Mendev recruit, or did you grow up further West?"
For all the strut in her walk, Kyle's shoulders go very still, tight. "Mendev." The word spit out, quickly, almost a curse.
Possible Text: Drea's arms snake around one of Kyle's at the elbow and shoulder, wrenching her hand away from her polearm.
For all the strut in her walk, Kyle's shoulders go very still, tight. "Mendev." The word spit out, quickly, almost a curse.
Save DC16
Faxon shakes his head, waving casually to the door, then he stops stock still as something occurs to him, "If he," he looks at the group, "or she isn't too tired, I'd appreciate a more detailed report from your group's scout."
Chancre looks at Faxon, then Kyle and Fisk.
"You want that in Taldane or Abyssal?"
Kyle Error is a girl. Not that this changes your combat post one bit :)
More important, combat wise, I'll have you hold if Drea goes before you so that you can get flanking, since she would have to shift 5-feet as well.
Yes, please have Míril's initiative hold till Drea's if need be so tactics can work.
"Most would have been out celebrating when the attacks came. Those that weren't out on duty, that is. Headquarters is right by the Kite. That's where everyone is likely to come back to."
It's clear from her face that she realizes how close that is to where the attacks were focused, and she's holding firmly to the hope that since she hasn't seen the building a crumbling husk like so many the team has seen recently that it's still up and functioning. And that so many of her compatriots are still active and fighting the good fight.
"Maybe on our way to investigate the cultists, we can swing by and see if the Headquarters are still standing. I figure, the least I can do after you all saved me is to help you find what you're looking for in Kenabres." She shoots another pointed look at Drea. "And I'm certainly not the only person who is willing to help assist you."
Samirah chews another bite of food, thoughtfully. Then; "I'm a woman of action, and I prefer the movement of investigation to the alternative. And though I had no personal stake in Kenabres when I first arrived, I seem to be developing a personal stake since yesterday." She looks around at all of her companions in their various states of breakfast.
"Maybe on our way to investigate the cultists, we can swing by and see if the Headquarters are still standing. I figure, the least I can do after you all saved me is to help you find what you're looking for in Kenabres." She shoots another pointed look at Drea. "And I'm certainly not the only person who is willing to help assist you."
Samirah chews another bite of food, thoughtfully. Then; "I'm a woman of action, and I prefer the movement of investigation to the alternative. And though I had no personal stake in Kenabres when I first arrived, I seem to be developing a personal stake since yesterday." She looks around at all of her companions in their various states of breakfast.
"Thank you, Samirah. That means a lot to me." says Míril with a sincere smile.
Chancre steps toward Faxon, and says, "We ran into Hosilla. She laughed until she died."
"I am offering you the chance to surrender, but we both know you won't."
Miril moves first, just a nudge, but she holds, waiting for something.
Chancre steps toward Faxon, and says, "We ran into Hosilla. She laughed until she died."
"I am offering you the chance to surrender, but we both know you won't."
And it is Kyle who goes next, taking a step forward so that Drea stands between her and the red-haird rogue. To Drea, "They aren't what they seem you know," Her glaive sings through the air with the speed of strike, sinking into Konstantin's unprotected back. "They are just like all the rest, where they say what you want to hear on the surface, but only so they can do what they want." Her face hardens, "Regardless of who they hurt." She glances at Drea, side eyed, "They'll hurt you when they don't need you anymore."
Konstantin hurls a snowball at the mustachioed cad. The hit takes the tiefling off-guard, frost turning the red skin purple where it sinks in, but there is a flash of power, and he throws off the worst of the spells mental power.
Samirah darts past Fisk to attack Faxon directly. Her scimitar marring the red skin almost as well as Kon's ice.
Faxon takes a step back from Samirah, but obviously not in fear as he casts a spell and tosses it at Chancre. For just a second Chancre loses his eyesight, but your inquisitor is a tough old campaigner and shrugs off the necromancy.
Roshan slides to get a slightly better angle. A circular blade and heavy knife flash through the air towards the red skinned leader. Both weapons just barely manage to hit Faxon who, finally, hisses in pain.
Drea's arms snake around one of Kyle's at the elbow and shoulder, wrenching her hand away from her polearm. The woman hisses in pain as her shoulder makes a popping sound and words hiss through her clenched teeth.
Míril sighs. And subterfuge was going so well her body language seems to say. Nevertheless, she draws her short sword and moves to put Error between her and Drea so she can flank her. And then puts her sword into her fleshy bits. And the short sword does just that to the woman held securely in Drea's lock.
Fisk weapon flashes out in defense of his leader against the woman who is hounding him, but Samirah dances away from the weapon.
Not sure what the tiefling had done, Corbin steps between Chancre and harm and shoots his bow at the man who attacked Samirah, unsuccessfully.
Kyle -5
He opens his frost-encrusted hand to reveal another snowball, which he sends at the tiefling.
DC16
"We aren't what we seem," Chancre says. "But we aren't that."
"We aren't what we seem," Chancre says. "But we aren't that."
"Oh, no." Kyle grunts as she struggles against the wound in her gut and Drea's hold, "I'm very sure you're the good guys."
"Me too," Chancre says.
Chancre steps around Corbin and presses his attack against Faxon.
"I'm not real fond of this whole Baphomet-masquerading-as-Iomedae thing," he says.
Samirah continues to focus her attacks on Faxon at the same time as she tries to dodge attacks from Fisk.