Campaign of Awesomeness! (Inactive)

Game Master BloodWolven

Each of you were invited to a formal ball in Absalon of a mid level adventurers. A mingling event with the prospects of delving into a newly uncovered tomb.

As you arrive you find there are many there interested in meeting mid level heroes. Some with missions or quests to offer with promises of money or other possibilities. Others come just wanting to meet you and dance with such powerful individuals. Then there is the writers and journalists, trying to produce stories from your adventures.

The party is a masquerade and all are in masks except for the prime candidates, you! There are many dressed in the best dresses that money can buy, others come in what they can scrounge up, also a few in clothing merely meant to be ripped off showing off as much skin they can get away with. It is definitely a mixed crowd.

The apparent host sits on a throne of black stones with bleached white bones as the back rest and two skulls on the end of the hand rests. The man or woman, no indication which, sits rather straight in the throne with a bulky black and blue robe and a mask of ying and yang, black and white.

Servers deliver an ever flowing amount of drinks and food to the crowd. Wine and a dark red liquor with bubbles within it seem to be the most dominate drink served. The strange drink has a strong raspberry taste but airy. No food or drinks are out on display but served from the kitchen.

The flamboyantly-dressed varisian man gives his invitation to the doorman upon entering. The incredibly well-dressed attendant proclaims the name to the room.
"Davian Dreamspun. Desnan cleric from Varisia."
The cleric's midnight-blue starry eyes widen slightly when he receives a light round of applause from the gather partygoers. Never having been to such a large function outside of caravan moot, and never one so fancy, Davian relied on his natural gifts: his charm and his luck.
Making his way into the masquerade, the desnan cleric smiles, nodded, and made complimentary comments on people's costumes, circling the large room, and taking an offered dark red liquor. Despite being unaware of the masquerade, Davian's bright-colored traditional varisian clothing allowed him to both stand out and blend in.
Upon arriving in front of the obvious thrones where the host sat, Davian bowed to each in turn before continuing his circuit of the room. The varisian man took special interest in the more scandalous garb on display, giving subtle wink and appreciative nods.

"A BALL!"

"Yes a formal ball in Absalon"

"With dresses and dancing!"

"Yes with dresses, dancing, fine wine and food, O an masks, pretty little masks, your going to just love it."

That last one got peals of laughter from the room. A room that consisted of a podium behind which the last speaker stood. Now chuckling. Behind this speaker was a large backboard on which hung posters, scrawled notes and a basic map of the world. If one looked around one could see the rest of the the room, It was stockily drab. The kind of room you find in office building everywhere. A simple steel door in and our, no windows and off white wall. A single light overhead that shone with a grayness all its own. Again on the walls like the blackboard, where odd poster and notes. Some talked about endless health and safety rules. Others wanted posters, and last of all motivational poster only a real fiend could come up with. This all seemed normal but for the occupants of the room. They where a bunch of Devils in one form or another. Not devils as in mischievous children tho some could be child like. No these where fiends well most where in fact half-fiends, but a full Devil was standing and the podium wile the others in the room state behind long bench like tables. The others two where giggling, all bar one.

The only one not laughing was one Rosa Luminasss.

To describe Rose, and the other in the room. All wore a uniform Simple well made. Black, with red and silver trim. There was no insignia, there was no need for one, each had a Hell forged weapon
that was the only badge of office, they needed. Rosa's was a great Sword held on her back, by a magical clasp.

And right now even it was chuckling. Rosa was not pleased, but she know her duty.

"Why a ball commander?"

The large Devil, One Scupuoss who was until deposed or promoted, Commander of the 452th district's Hounds of Hell unit. The policing force of the pits and beyond was the one giving the orders, and today he was handing her a case.

"Don't know and don't care officer Luminasss, it's all in your briefing folder here, its your problem now, and moving on..."

Scupuoss throw over a file. Rosa pulled it from the air, and bent over opening and reading it so none of the others around her could see.

The briefing moved on. That had been a week ago, and now Rosa was standing before the Ball. Waiting like others to be called up and introduced. She felt deeply uncomfortable. For one thing, she was in a dress, yes it was just an illusion of one, Black with red and silver fittings, like her uniform but still a dress. Then she was small, well small as in only 8' tall and not her normal 16' but still she always fell odd being this small. Next was her sword, Still on her back but invisible. She was a close as she could be to the dress code while still showing who she was. Yet it still felt odd, standing in the que. In the que was not really true, more in the space the Que had given her to keep away. She was used to that, she had that effect.

Then she was at the front Rosa, walked up to the usher who was looking at a long scroll in a puzzled way.

"Miss Hound..."

He looked up at Rosa seeking her name and froze. He gulped under his puffed up wig.

Rosa did it for him.

"ROSA LUMINASSS, HOUND OF HELL"

and strode past the man before he wet himself.

Where others had got claps or comments. The room grew quiet, even the music seemed to stall. Eyes looked and her and guilt could be seen. She knew why, for a moment most in this room where thinking,

Is she here for me?

Then someone called for the music to restart, a wall of whispers and talk came, the moment passed and soon she had been forgotten as new faces came and gossip needed to be spread.

Rosa glared at anyone seeking to strike up a conversation, as she made a B-line for the Bar. As she past some pointed, some giggled others looked away. She did not care, the place seemed full or the moronic and child like. Gay times for the foolish and weak, ones who so easily fell into sin. She smiled at that thought. But for now, if she had to be here she was not going to do it without a strong drink in her hand. Later she would go see the couple throwing this shin-dig, but for now. She needed a drink. She looked at he red stuff on offer and felt it lacked a kick. Alcohol did not work on her, so she asked for a glass from a servant. Taking a flask from under her dress she filled it with a black burning drink that smelled of gun powder. Sipping it she looked over the room.

Rosa is drinking Hells Wine, feel free to come try some

"Miss Hound..."

He looked up at Rosa seeking her name and froze. He gulped under his puffed up wig.

Rosa did it for him.

"ROSA LUMINASSS, HOUND OF HELL"

and strode past the man before he wet himself.

Where others had got claps or comments. The room grew quiet, even the music seemed to stall.

Davian, like the rest of the masquerade, looked up at the titanic woman barking her own introduction. At first, Davian was taken aback like everyone else, but then, the whole drama seems..rather silly. The desnan reached deep into himself to squelch the giggles that was rising to his lips. Even as the tall 'hound of hell' stomped her way to the bar, Davian ringed his own hands, forcing himself not to laugh. As the music and conversations began again, the giggles left Davian. Breathing a sigh of relief, the varisian looked to the announcement arc where he entered. Clearly, this party is just getting started!

While more than a little confused about how she was singled out to attend the ball, Annwyn still shifts her appearance to that of a more traditional-looking adventurer in more subdued, but still nice, clothing. More than a little glad the invitation didn't bear her likeness- not that anyone knew what that was, of course- so she could avoid having to reveal her actual face (of course, upon seeing what most of the party was wearing, she flicked her wrists and started wearing a mask herself regardless). She hands her invite to the attendant, wishing he didn't have to be so loud....

"Annwyn Reskal, Scribe of Heaven!" the announcer gives her a curious look at her title, but Annwyn just shrugs and moves into the room, blending into the crowd with a practiced ease.

Ring set to Charisma

Lidras strode in, dresses in finery suites for the occasion. He worked with the air of elven Nobility. His head held up, his back straight, every step done with care and self-assurance. His brightly colored mask stood out, given his white skin, hair, and wings. When he had drowned, the curse had stolen all of the color from his body.

The herald began ”Lidras of House Mitheredal!” He gave the man a cross look for butchering the accent so badly. Letting the slight go, he descended to the ball proper. He eyed the men and women present, looking for his halfling companion. The man had impressed Lidras, a feat that few had accomplished. The man had divine blood coursing through his veins, evident by his ability to snap an ogre in half. If Adegard hadn’t been so insistent then he wouldn’t have come. There was a fiend that he planned to hunt and devour, after all. But, the Paladin seemed to think that exploring this dungeon would put them on the fiend’s trail. So, here he was. Lowering himself to watching humans ape the dignified traditions of his people. He didn’t want to admit it, but it had been well over a century since he had last been in a court of any kind, and while quaint the process was still enjoyable.

K Nobility for etiquette: 10 + 12 = 22

Aden calmly ascended the stairs up to the grand ballroom, straightening his surcoat as he did. He disliked being out of his plate and mail, for though a formal uniform did exist for him order, as it did for many others, it rarely was worn as even in religious rites a knight should always be ready for conflict. Still, the leather surcoat was reinforced an offered a modicum of protection, perhaps akin to something a city watchman might wear. It was stylish, in a militant manner, dyed a rich red and edged in silver with a bold white symbol of Iomedae upon his chest. With no helm on his shaggy brown hair offerly a slightly unruly air, accented by his sideburns. His eyes sparkled, a strange copper-green hue. A gift of his mother, his father had once told him. Aden kept his armaments to the minimum for the eve, with only his sword resting upon his hip and a studded buckler clasped on the scabbard above. He missed his shield, but it was one night, and a night of formality. He could go one evening without being completely on guard.

Scribe of Heaven? Intriguing... he thought to himself as the woman before him stepped into the chamber. She dressed rather pragmatically, like him in a sense, yet there was an air to her of quiet confidence. She was not one to be taken lightly.

He was about to step forward when a lean, pale elven man strode across his path. Lidras possessed an air of arrogance, but it was moreso just the cool, elven aloofness. He watched as Lidras winced at the valet's poor pronunciation. His mentor had taught Aden the elven tongue properly, whereas the valet had clearly learned from a human scholar. He saw the tension in Lidras as he moved through the crowd, likely looking for Aden himself. He had convinced him to come, after all. They needed more leads on their target, and this dungeon, or any of the power brokers here, might lend a useful clue.

Handing over his invitation, Aden nodded to the valet. Baestrix's tutelage in the machinations of the various knighthoods and brotherly orders will be useful tonight. Aden had never liked the 'politicking', but his sire had trained him how to handle it well.

"Sword-Brother Adegard Underhill, Knight of the Hallowed Shield."

Aden stepped forward, half-bowed to the chamber then entered, making his way through the crowd then smirking at Lidras before motioning his head toward another familiar face - the hellborn giantess Rosa. Turning to Lidras, "Are you going blind in your years? You practically walked over me stepping up to the valet. Shall we grab a touch of wine before reacquainting ourselves with those we know?"

Celestial ”Sir Aden! I fear that I stand out far more than most. This ball has become eminently more enjoyable with your presence.” He offered a formal bow, though his voice showed that his mood had improved. ”After sampling whatever passes for wine, shall we see who this scribe of heaven is?” The name sounded promising. Both for tracking down their quarry, and for defeating it. Plus, with a name like that, Lidras would be less likely in racing competition for when it came to feasting on whatever power the fiend held.

Entering a bit behind the others was a big half-orc. Compared to the formality of most guests’ dress this evening, he stuck out like a sore thumb, clad as he was in all-encompassing plate armor of black iron, and bearing a massive axe. Only his tusked jaws were visible, left unprotected so that they could be used in combat. He nonchalantly passed his invitation to the valet, and waited. Soon he was announced: ”Grod, Executioner-Paladin of Damerrich.” Stepping forward, Grod pauses and surveyed the room, then headed to an empty corner where he could watch with relatively few threats at his back. It was also conveniently near the food. Watching the room again, he wondered to himself about the guests and the occasion. What fool’s errands are these fops recruiting for tonight? No doubt they will promise wealth and fame, but when life is over, what good is that? Money, fake, and even power are worthless if they do not help you meet fate with honor and steadfastness. And anyway, no doubt many of these are involved in ill deeds of some sort. I wonder how many will one day face just punishment at the headsman’s block. I wonder if it might even be my axe that delivers the blow. His hand tightens on the thick haft of his mighty axe as the thought occurs to him.

Davian leaned up against the wall of the grand party, considering his options.
Hmm. it would appear those with their name called out are the 'guests of honor', I believe that is the taldane term. And so far, of those honorific personages are a self-professed 'hound of hell', a halfling and orc paladin, an nobleman elf, 'Heaven's Scribe', and myself!
Several appear to miracle workers in their own right. So we will have that in common.. I should introduce myself to these esteemed guests.
The desnan cleric scans the room and finds the fellow guests of honor. The varisian's starry eyes resting on the sullen giantress at the bar.
Hellbeast, it is.
Davian begins to saunter toward the expansive bar.

""Sword-Brother Adegard Underhill, Knight of the Hallowed Shield."

Rosa just about dropped the flask of Hell wine she had been wigging from.

By Hells balls Aden's here?

A big grin crossed her face, at least someone would be here feeling as out of place as herself. Aden was an old friend, and they had more then once found themselves hunting the same law brakes. Aden may be on the other side of light but he knew that fighting the madness of Chaos was a far more pressing matter then who was good or bad.

Perception 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (3) + 18 = 21

Standing 8' tall she had no problem scanning the room until she spotted him talked to a well dress Elf. Just as Davian got to her, she took off toward Aden. The crewed for the most part parted to make room for her, and those that move where just pushed aside, with tutters and mutters of rebuke following her. She did not care, getting to Aden with a big smile on her face she said.

"Aden you old git, by the hell's it's been a while Boy"

And she slapped him on the back.She then spotted the Elf lord He had been talking to.

Kn Nobility 1d20 + 1d6 + 8 ⇒ (2) + (1) + 8 = 11 not a clue

" Nope don't know you, but Good idea about the scribe, lets go have a chat."

She took Aden's arm and as she did slipped him a small hip flask of Oldlaw Whiskey, whispering in Infernal as she did to him.

"Некоторые из хороших вещей Адена лучше, чем красные * и *%, которые они, похоже, выкапывают.

Annwyn feels a mental tug on her, and when she looks over she sees a familiar pile of rocks floating by her head, "Hey. I thought I told you to stay out of sight while we're here."

Aren't I? How can you tell the difference? Maybe this is all just happening in your head again.

She ignores the comment, "Well? What is it?"

Someone's speaking Celestial, didn't you notice? There's at least two aasimars and a tiefling around as well. You should be more interested in your surroundings.

"You know I'm not looking for people at the moment."

Eh, whatever. You should still make friends. Other than Penshi, do you have anyone in the city that knows you as someone other than Erith? Besides, one of them mentioned wanting to meet you.

"Fine. I'll talk to people."

She slides through the crowd, looking for the other guests of honor, and finding them apparently at the bar, after shifting the color of her eyes to a golden-green color "Hello there. I hear you were interested in me?" she asks, "Trust me, my title isn't as impressive as it sounds. I wish we got to choose our announcements, but here we are. Any idea what this is all about?"

Rose dose not even get a chance to move as there in front of them is the scribe of Heaven.

::"Shiftier"::

Comes her swords words into her mind.

"Really"

Rosa says in response to both statements made to her.

::"Yep spotted it when she came over"::

Rosa just said, looking down at the Scribe.

"Not yet, but I have a feeling if Aren here and myself have been ordered to attend, its mean trouble of a kind locals can't Handel."

Lidras smiled as his friend was dragged away by an eight foot tall woman. He hadn’t guessed that the Paladin would be partial to taller women, but who was he to judge? He slid over to the bar. It was clear enough whom this ball was meant to bring. He decided to enjoy his comforts while he could, as he had a feeling that the time for revelry would be all too short.

Aden was about to reply to Lidras when a massive hand thumped him in the back and propelled him forward a good foot. Damn, she got over here fast... he thought as he turned and looked up to the dark clad woman. With a genuine smile, he gestures between Lidras and Rosa, "Lady Rosa, it has indeed been some time since our last encounter in Mendev. It is good, if auspicious, to see you here... Though, you are looking a bit short-" he pauses with a smirk, "Allow me to introduce you to my companion, Lidras Mitheredal, arcanist and reliquarian. Lidras, you stand before the Lady Rosa Luminasss, an agent of law and order from the infernal realms. You've heard of the hellknights - their dogma is based upon the knighthood to which Rosa belongs."

As Rosa tries to pull him away, Adeb politley abstains from the infernal liquor she offers. "I recall last time I had a sip from your flask, the spirits within did not agree well with me. Something about diametrically opposed origins. Anyway, thank you, but I will stick to the wine." Their destination appears at their side, and Aden pulls Lidras back to them, not letting him escape to the bar to sulk on his own.

Aden looks at the newcomer, "You are referred to as the scribe of Heaven, there must at least be a story. One worth sharing perhaps?" he inquires as he extends a glass of wine in Annwyn's direction.

A hellknignt? Well isn’t this dangerous. Lidras had expected trouble when a fully armed and armored half orc exploded into the hall. But a scion of law? Few things were quite as tenacious when brought to ire.

”My lady, it is a singular pleasure to meet any friend of Sir Aden.” Anything further was cut off as the scribe approached. It appeared that this certainly was becoming a party.

As Davian walks up to the bar, the varisian notices the majority of the guests of honor arriving at the bar at the same time. Fated? That would be Pharasma's domain. It was clear the halfing, elf, and giantress knew each other and were making their pleasantries. Not one to interupt, Davian ordered another deep red liquor from the bar and decided to wait for the most advantageous time to introduce himself.

At Aden's coment about her size, she smiled,

"All the better to fit past the small doors they have around here."

When he talks of her drink, she slips the silver flask away. It was true the hell brows had a bad effect on mortals.

Rosa let Aden carry on finding out who this scribe was. As Aden politely pulled Lidras back Rosa took over and moved to Lidras side.

"Like wise Lidras Mitheredal, yes..., Lidras Mitheredal, I remember a file."

She chuckled and reached into her dress and pulled out another flask. This one silver and black. She unstopped it and a whiff of sulphurous hell's came from it.

"Something more to our tastes Load Mitheredal?"

"Serill of house Elamaer, envoy of Kyonin, high wizard of the third mastery!" He turned to the host on the throne and gave a slight nod. He came dressed in silk, blue and green with natural patterns in a clearly elven style. He was taller than average, just shy of seven feet with dark hair styled slickly back into several braids guiding it down his back. No visible weapon could be seen, though of course a wizard's true weapon is not steel.

A wizard ought to turn heads but I fear other have more unique titles tonight. He regarded the devil- woman carefully, wondering what business one of her kind could have here.

He wandered into the room grabbing an offered drink, the finest elven wine available and looking around at those present.
nobility(Mitheredal): 1d20 + 30 ⇒ (1) + 30 = 31
He recognised the house of Mitheredal but not the face that belonged to it, he seemed to be connected to others here already whereas Serill knew nobody. Waiting for others to approach him would grease no tracks so he decided to introduce himself formally, and perhaps get an introduction to some others here. "Cyfarchion Mae Lidras, gwybodaeth a doethineb yn eich helpu chi. Rydw i'n Serill o Elamaer, sut wyt ti'n talu heno?"

Lidras took the vial and sniffed it. ”A rare vintage. It would appear that you know me better than I would have guessed, and not just by the name.”

She grabbed two glasses off a tray and tipped out the wine, upping the flash she filled both glasses with a drink that looked live molten copper. She handed one to Libras.

"Bottoms up"

She said downing her own drink in one, she held her mouth closed forcing the drink down, and then her lips bust open and 2' of flame shot it. She thumped her chest and another puff of smoke followed.

"That hits the spot"

She then spotted the mage, and an eyebrow went up.

::"No idea, we have no file on him"::

Her sword passed on

Rosa now a little stipsy look around the room and spotted a hansom looking feller by the bar. She walks to the bar and placing an arm around Davian just about bodily carried him back to the group. Saying.

"Now a hasummm chapps like you, standing alll aalone, narr, you come stand with us pritty-boy."

Plonking him down with the group. Then she was off again, looking for others to add to her stash of miss fits.

Sidling up to the bar, Grod orders a water and whatever looks most appetizing and meaty. Feeling that he should probably say something to someone, he was just about to approach the colorful Varisian man when the towering woman spirited him away. Towering isn't an adjective I can often use for anyone. mused the half-orc idly. At just a few inches shy of 7 feet, it was no mere boast. Humans and their ilk are easy to look down on, figuratively as much as literally. But anyone here is more powerful than they appear. Which means they're probably corrupt, power being what it is. Smirking at his own grim humor, he downs his water and passes the glass back for a refill.

Rosa head comes inter view beside the Half-orc's,

"Hay, tinny, you want come join ush oldens, you looks you can handdle ya self, and thy called your name."

Then she is off again, looking for others.

Rosa now a little stipsy look around the room and spotted a handsome-looking feller by the bar. She walks to the bar and placing an arm around Davian just about bodily carried him back to the group. Saying.

"Now a hasummm chapps like you, standing alll aalone, narr, you come stand with us pritty-boy."

Plonking him down with the group. Then she was off again, looking for others to add to her stash of misfits.

"Whoa!" The cleric exclaims as the now-evident very strong Rosa picked up and carried Davian several feet to the large gathering of honored guests. Despite the rough treatment, Davian took it all in stride. As the desnan was set down, he gave the half-fiend as quick wink and spoke with a thick varisian accent "Thănk you, Roșâ. I could not hăve ășked for â beţţer înțroductîon."

Lidras turned to Serill, his face suddenly serious. He bowed in the formal manner reserved for elven courts.

Elven ”A thousand booms upon your esteemed house.” He desperately thought of all of the courtly manners that he had neglected for the past several decades. Lidras has become complacent, living among humans. The few elves he had met had been commoners to whom such courtesies were expected. But now an envoy was here, from House Elamaer no less! He feared that this would mean that his presence would soon be known to his family. He dearly wished that he had done something to hide his wings. Looking at the elf he couldn’t help but think that this is what his father wished him to be. A real mage, earning glory and prestige for the House in the name of the queen. Lidras smiled politely.

Elven ”I admit that I did not expect to see an elf of such blood and means at this...gathering. I am, of course, interested in the acquisition of relics. What service to our queen brings you here?”

When the silver woman approaches him, Grod gives a small nod and drifts toward the rest of the growing group. He looks down, careful not to step on the halfling, and extends a gauntleted hand to the little man. "Sir Underhill, was it? I have to say, I'm not familiar with your Order."

At that point the host of the party took its gauntleted hand and magically a staff of dark or black wood appeared. Nothing special about the staff was apparant and it was struck thrice upon the ground. CRACK, CRACK, CRACK!

By the second strike most in the hall were silent and by the third looking at the host. In a loud dominating voice, obviously enhanced by magic he welcomed the crowd, ”Welcome one and all to the party of masks. Enjoy yourselves this night as my gift to you. The rooms on the second floor are welcome to be used by all. The rooms on the third floor are marked by the guest’s name. For everyone’s safety only go to the third floor with an honored guest. Specifics on the new tomb will be covered tomorrow at noon. Drink, eat, and be merry!”

Davian becomes delighted and wary of talk of individual rooms and new tombs. His emotions are conflicted.

As Aden opened his mouth to reply to the half-orc, the wrapping of the staff paused his words. Once their host's strange greeting comes to a stop, he looks back up, grasping the much larger knight's hand firmly, with a grip more indicative of a diminutive giant than a halfling. "Sworth Brother Underhill, or simply Aden, if you please. Indeed, it is doubtful you have heard of my order. The Knights of the Hallowed Shield are a minor brotherhood within the Church of Iomedae. Our temple-forts are built near places ravaged by war and conflict, where we serve as guardians and healers for the wounded and weak of Golarion. We seek neither glory nor fortune, and thusly obstain from titles of power. Let me say that I am honored to meet a dutiful servant of the Weighted Swing. I stood beside one of your brethren during the siege of Kenabres."

Looking about the grand chamber, Aden continues, "What do you make of all this... strange assembly?"

Rosa had found and ice bucket and had stuck her head in it to clear her mind when the 1st crack came. In an instant the illusion dress had fallen away, she grow in size to her normal 16' and went into a combat stance. Into her hands came her hell blade. She stood there a moment and then realised her blade was touching the ceiling and that nothing was wrong. She felt a little embarrassed, spotting some of the guests where pointing and giggling at her. The hell blade disappeared. Rosa straitening her uniform as she walked back to the others. Joining them. There was no point going small now as the Ball room had the high. And she was sick of trying to fit in here.

"I sleep my true size. So I will rest in here tonight."

"I sleep my true size. So I will rest in here tonight."

Davian looks in wonder and Rosa's tranformation. "Ând here Î țhoughț you were țăll enough aș îț wâş, Roşâ! "

Dayvin feels a pull that brings him into the material world. It seems that he fades into a party. A party surrounded by odd people, including one woman of unusual size.

"Greetings." he says to the assembly.

The varisian looks at his dark red liquor, then to the small, transparent man, then back to the drink.
"Căn everyone şee țhe șmăll gnome or îș țhîș drînk much şţronger țhăn Î reălîzed?"

Rosa looks down and Davian and smiles,

"To much for your to Handel, Davian?. As for whats flying around your drink, Its looks like a Fey, probably from the lands of the King and Queen of the eternal dance. I would suspect they too want to know what this tomb is about. "

::"Unknown, no file"::

her sword passed onto her.

Rosa sits down, and looks at the group, thinking a moment, Rosa was old and wise, and new fate was at work here.

"I have a suggestion, looking at us here I think we have all the named, those picked by one means or anther to investigate this Tomb. What say you to this then. A contract simple, for the duration of this investigation of the tomb. A simple pledge, "We swear to do no harm to each other, we will aid each other as best we can and we stand and fall as one. What say you, will we pledge with me to this, and in so doing be bonded for this adventure? we need not do it now, I would wish you think on it. But I would have us do it before we enter."

"It's a long story, but I worked as a librarian in Heaven for a few years in my youth. I'm afraid it's not as exciting as it sounds- I used all my favors up in coming here." she tells her new companions, unsure exactly as to why.

It's the plot, that's why.

"The what?" she asks suddenly to an apparently empty bit of air,

Nevermind. Forget I said anything.

Annwyn shakes her head to clear it, and her attention is grabbed the rest of the way by the cracks that echo through the hall. She listens to the announcement, completely lost. She greets what appears to be a...

Knowledge (planes): 10 + 19 + 2 = 31
Knowledge (planes) (aid another): 10 + 18 = 28

Prana ghost, as it returns to the Material, and hesitates when the half-fiend tiefling offers to make a contract, "I'm highly hesitant to agree to anything at the moment. But I will keep it in mind. Still, I do think I shall retire for the night. If you need to find me, I'll be in my room." she says, slipping away.

Looking down at the diminutive paladin, Grod nods. "As your brotherhood is not well known, neither is my patron. I am honored that one of the Inheritor's church knows of us at all. We of the Swing's faithful are, as you know, small in number and we actively seek to take the burdensome and joyless tasks that are too often necessary in this corrupted world upon ourselves. I remember the name of every being whom I have executed in service of my lord Damerrich. It is a wearying life, and I can understand why it isn't appealing to many, but someone has to shoulder the burden. Better that I volunteer for it than it be foisted upon another." He pauses, gathering his thoughts on the gathering. "I think most of the people here are decadent, vainglorious fops, and I attend only out of a duty to fulfill social niceties that generally bore me." He pauses again, and gestures toward their host. "But then again, this one proved to be much more interesting than I expected. Never judge a book by it's cover, I suppose."

After Rosa proposes a contract:
"This entire party has been a lesson in judging books by their covers, but I have to ask. What's the catch? I've learned to always expect an infernal contract to contain loopholes." he pauses for a moment and then adds, almost as an afterthought "No offense."

she nods at
Annwyn has she goes and chuckles at Grod's comment..

"You are thinking of my Brethren who seek souls to catch. I am a Hound of Hell. I seek already lost souls. But if there is a catch then it is this. Should you fall from grace, I will be there to catch you."

And she chuckled some more.

”I admit that I did not expect to see an elf of such blood and means at this...gathering. I am, of course, interested in the acquisition of relics. What service to our queen brings you here?”

Serill brushed aside the compliment to his station. Elvish "I cannot claim the distictions you wish to view me with. My house has long languished over the millenia since we returned to Golarion. But perhaps I can someday bring it honour once again. It is welcome to meet a Mitheradal, it makes sense that you wish to seek out this mysterious tomb. Indeed I myself did not expect the invitation I received and think perhaps someone, though I know not who, wants me here for a specific purpose. I fear I have no choice but to accept and serve my Queen." Before he got a chance to ask further questions they were all loudly interrupted.

All attention was commanded by the host and Serill mentally processed the illusion spell he must have used. He was, however, taken aback by the sudden restoration of the Hound's size. A fearsome sight. What does Hell look for in this tomb? So many parties seemed to be interested in this tomb. If it truly was important, he felt honoured to be chosen to investigate. The group going in together would likely have different goals... My 'benefactor', though i assume the Queen, house Mitheradal, a branch of Hell, Heaven? Such contrasting backgrounds. There could be a conflict of interest here.

"A professional agreement is a wise idea. Perhaps with more information tomorrow we can make a more formal and informed arrangement. I would like to at least enjoy this evening before being sent into a dark tomb."

Davian sighs inwardly when he hears Rosa hunts down damned souls, not claiming pure souls. But a new question forms in the cleric's mind.
"Î șuppoșe Î could beăr you compâny în țhîș țomb-explorîng venture, Lâdy Roşâ" the varisian offers. "Buț pleâşe țell me, how ofțen do șoulș eşcâpe Hell, ţhâţ â Hound îs needed?"

Rosa could see from Davian's face he did not like her answer.

"Not often, but time is long. I Know you think us Evil down in The hell's. But what we do is of the highest imperative. Hell's disciplined and ever watchful legions stand as an eternal wall agonised the madness of Chaos. That force from the greater darkness of the abyss seeking always to end this world. End all in it, No order, no life, no meaningful reality at all."

Rosa moved to get close to Davian.

"We of the Hells are simple dedicated in this fight with enemy of reality. Using all means at our disposal Davian. And we do not take likely to thous who have sworn to join the fight and then try to renege. Those mortals who willingly sign contracts to join Hell's ranks and then try to not show up. Then Davian, someone like me has to go and collect the runaway."

She leans back.

Davian considers Rosa's words and nods, not so much in agreement, but acceptance.

Rosa leans back onto a wall. Her sword had moved itself unseen to her side. She looked at the stragglers leaving the party. She took from her belt pouch a book, and started to read it.

"Lâdîeş, Gentlemen." The cleric spoke to his fellow honored quests. "Îf ţhere îs noțhing elşe for țonîghţ, Î şhâll endeăvor țo învîţe ăs măny lovely lădîeş âş poșșîble țo my bedchămber before țhe pârțy compleţely dîșolveș."
"Şo Î şhâll şee everyone on țhe morrow", Davian said with a parting bow, then leaned over to the half-fiend, "Or lățer țonîghț." "Brîng țhe wîne, the varisian whispered to the Hell Hound.

Rosa shrinks in size, becoming once more only 8' tall, she stands and walking to Davians taking his arm. Looking at the others she says to them.

"We shall see you all in the morning"

And with that walk with him out the chamber and to a night without rest.
All that night from Davians rooms come sounds, come Hellish sounds, the odd male scream and infernal Laughter. The sounds drift in the halls and corridors of the palace.

Rosa not only has wine but she chains and whips as well, I do hope Davian knows his safe word. Muuhaha

Rosa shrinks in size, becoming once more only 8' tall, she stands and walking to Davian, taking his arm. Looking at the others she says to them.

"We shall see you all in the morning"

And with that walk with him out the chamber and to a night without rest.
All that night from Davian's rooms come sounds, come Hellish sounds, the odd male scream and infernal Laughter. The sounds drift in the halls and corridors of the palace.

Well, here some saving throws, and liberal uses of Davian's Lucky Strike (Su) ability.

Aden sighs slightly to himself as the Hunter for Hell disappears with the Varisian. He looks up at the mighty paladin next to him. "Ah, Rosa. She is a loyal ally, I can vouch for that. She is an agent of law and order, no doubt. Yet the cursed path that drew her into that life is shown by her fondness for escape, through drink and... other distractions. I would hope one day to draw her soul away from the machinations of the Pits. We shall see. As for me, I will play the part expected of us and socialize with some of the masked attendants, to see if anything can be learned of the tomb, and what really lies behind this evening's festivities."

With a nod, Aden departs the cluster of 'heroes' and mingles into the mass of masked party-goers. He laughs, shares stories, dances, and partakes in a few drinks, though keeps himself well within his wits (thanks, no doubt, to his otherwordly Constitution). He intends to use the evening to investigate, knowing well that loose tongues are far more apt to share details.

Diplomacy (gather info) + luck: 1d20 + 17 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 17 + 3 = 32

The night passes as each of you wills it. Even more than you think right, as if some passive spells have influenced the other guests into doing your will for good or evil. The next morning if you do wake up before noon, you can see many leaving with hangovers or stepping lightly as their night was very eventful. It seems that a succubus' aura was in effect last night as well.

Speaking of succubi one dressed up as one, illusioned or otherwise, greets the assembled group with all her unholy glory at the table. The room has been set with a long table for everyone to sit and eat at before the host arrives, so saeth the succubus. "Eat, eat, I did not prepare the food. It is blessed by your benefactor, my contract is almost up but I was suppose to greet you."

Then the figure in the black blue robe floats into the room slowly. The male voice makes you think it is male, "Yes, your contract is nearly complete." He pulls a vial out of his robe and hands it to the demon. She disappears in a column of smoke before he sits at the spot of prominence at the head of the table.

Clearing his throat he addresses the assembled heroes, "I have brought you all here to bring this tomb's presence to your attention. I have heard many things about it but nothing has been confirmed. When you bring back viable data I will pay you 25,000 gp. I have devised magical items that will record anything that is record-able." With a snap of his gauntleted fingers, bracers appear before each of you. "They work the best when you wear them, but you just need them to be with you. We do know there are multiple levels to this tomb and many different guardians. Should you defeat a strong guardian and preserve its corpse there is another 10,000 gp. Any ancient or new magics found will give you another bonus as well. If you can find a gate to another dimension or such and tune it with a tuning fork another bonus for that fork. Also if a teleporation or gate is available place the center gem of the bracer on it to key it and another bonus will wait you. But before I send you off, please answer this one question why go to the tomb? Is this enough of a cost for your life?"

Lidras looked around at the strange assembly. A wizard who trafficked in demons and who almost certainly lying to them. An eclectic group ranging from a giantess to an envoy of Kyonin to what seemed like a ghost. Near certain death in the tomb or after. He smiled.

”What can you tell us of this tomb? From what you have said I half-suspect that there will be a gateway to the abyss within.”

As Rosa enters with Davian, she spots the succubus. She had felt it during the night, but had shrugged off its chaotic influence. Wounding what had been behind it. Now she know a succubus and as it came close to her.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 1d6 + 18 ⇒ (5) + (5) + 18 = 28 Spends and inspiration

She glared at it,

"Whats your name succubus, tell me!"

Here was evidence that there host what working with the demonic powers. She fought down the urge to strike down the Demonness. She needed to know more of what they where planning.

Kn(Arcana): 1d20 + 1d6 + 8 ⇒ (13) + (3) + 8 = 24 On the vile

Then as the vile was handed over, she suspected the wine she had not taken that night and the succubus effect, life of some form, pulled from the guests that night. But such a large area effect. This mage was paying her off for something more than waiting on them.

Sense motive: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (7) + 18 = 25 On talk of a contract

And talk of a contract, Demons did not follow contracts, they where impelled to do thing, the binding type was all that mattered. So what had he got her to do.

Before the succubus goes.

::"File Created, Succubus Type 6"::

As morning begins to break, Davian gets up, finds his clothes and asks for two baths to be brought up to his room, one for himself and one for his hellfire guest. After a quick and through bath, the cleric performed his morning prayers, after using up all his cure spells the night before. After his daily constitutionals, Davian recovered all his clothing and belongings that were flung around the room, and meet the other honored guests at the table. If no others get up early, Davian will walk the grounds

"But before I send you off, please answer this one question: Why go to the tomb? Is this enough of a cost for your life?"

In a cavalier manner, Davian shrugs, "Sounds like fun. That and Rosa asked nicely enough."