Time Bandits

Game Master Monkeygod


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Male Archangel of Awesome Paladin of Badassery 20

Each of you receives an invitation written on fancy, gilded paper. It does not matter where you are, nor what plane you are on, nor what you are doing. The invitation finds its way to you.

”Please make haste to the Crossing House tavern within the city of Hyraeatan. Your particular services are required. If you are unable to make the journey on your own, you will find attached a token capable of created a one way portal to Hyraeatan. It only works once, so use it wisely.”

No name closes out the invitation, but for those who can’t get to Hyraeatan on their own, a token that sort of looks like an eye between a pair of dragon horns is enclosed.

The Crossing House tavern is a moderately sized, two story tall building that sits in the center of small, bustling square within the Seraph’s Ring district of Hyraeatan. As you approach, those who are attuned to such energies sense an odd combination of compulsion and temporal magics about the tavern. Yet despite your best efforts, you’re unable to identify or even really see said magic.

The interior of the Crossing House is spacious and well furnished. It’s also immediately apparent that it’s much large on the inside than the confines of the physical building should allow. Not surprising considering the planar nature of the city your in, but still notable. As you look around, and take your seat either at the bar or among one of the many tables and booths, you don’t seem to spot anybody who might have sent you that invitation. Surely, there’s nobody who takes any particular note of your arrival.

Feel free to RP your entrance into Hyraeatan proper, your travel to the Crossing House, and anything else you feel like. This is freeform for right now, till I get the actual game started.


Undead Ghost Rider Cavalier

The dust was heavy. Shedinn gave his mount the spores, but they both couldn't really see, where they were going. The demon's tracks were hard to follow on this open plain here in hell. How he got into hell is for someone else to find out, but Shedinn's job was to get rid of the intruder who was surely up for no good - or at least for no lawful.
At a large boulder he stopped, keeping some cover from the dust storm and rethinking his choices. Suddenly a blueish portal opens in front of his face, only 20 cm in diameter and a hand of unknown origin reaches through it. It holds a letter and hands it to Shedinn. Surprised he takes it and opens it, while the portal closes again.

”Please make haste to the Crossing House tavern within the city of Hyraeatan. Your particular services are required. If you are unable to make the journey on your own, you will find attached a token capable of created a one way portal to Hyraeatan. It only works once, so use it wisely.”

"Hyraeatan? I've been there. Weird place. Hm, no addresser or any name? I have no time for this then!"

He crumbled the paper and threw it over his shoulder before riding on. He did keep the token, though.


AC & Saves:
  • base|[in suit]|{suit itself}
  • AC 29/t20/ff25
  • [AC 37/t20/ff33]
  • {AC 29/t11/ff26}
  • Saves |F:16|R:17[24]|W:19
  • (all saves +1 vs traps)
  • Contemplative Incanter/Scholar/Technician 10
    HP & SR:
  • HP 110/110
  • {suit HP 160/160 hardness 20}
  • SR 25
  • While in his workshop, filling out a report on his latest travels, Scrivener sees an envelope just appear from nothing on his desk. "Delightfully suspicious," he thinks. Upon reading its contents, he would have sighed if he could have. His species had evolved past such inefficiencies eons ago.

    Closing out his report succinctly, he sealed it in a manila envelope and carried it with him as he floated up into his suit. He walked out of the grey building by way of the usual portal that took him back to the Steamstriders compound. Dropping off his report in the deposit box for processing, he walked out the regular door and down the street.

    Towering over *most* other residents here, it was easy to make his way to the Crossing House. Fortunately, Hyratean was such a cosmopolitan place that the doors were sized for all types. This allowed him to fit even his huge mechanical frame through the door and into the meeting area.


    Looking at things from a perspective, Gabriel had a rather good deal. As a member of an invading army, keeping his life is something not everyone could have expected. Of course, he was taken prisoner - he wasn't hoping for it to go any other way - but at least he wasn't tortured. There's no need for torture, of course - there's nothing he knows that's of any value to the rulers of Hyraeatan.

    What he wasn't really expecting was a visit from Zachiel. The shiney went to him and told him he could improve his status if he was willing to make a deal. What the deal was none of them had a clue, but Gabriel thought it was worth the try.

    So here he is, escorted by a pair of guards, at the meeting point - The Crossing House. He has no idea what to expect, but he's been through a lot. Traitor, invader, prisoner... what will be next? Only time will tell.


    Neutral Evil Half-Moroi (Wyvaran) Antipaladin/Monk/Sorcerer | Perception +16; Init +7

    Lehkazeran watched as he flapped his wings staying just above the ground and moving at a decent clip, kicking up dust and some trash that had been floating around the street. Still, the strange piece of paper that had been following him persisted, moving towards him unimpeded. He'd determined it wasn't dangerous, or at least he didn't detect any devious spells or enchantments. Slowing his movement, he let the message catch up and reached out to take it from the air gingerly.

    Fingering the token that was included, he scanned through the document as he touched down onto the streets. In his periphreals, he could see other people on the road giving him a wide bearth as they walked past. His reputation in town had been growing lately, it seemed, and he made sure to make unsettling eye contact with a few of the folks, confident that they'd spread the tale and enhance the story and rumors going around town further.

    Lehkazeran didn't reconize the handwriting, or the ink, or the paper, or the delivery method for that matter. That ruled out everyone he knew in the Sovreignity, who were more likely to use mundane methods of contacting him anyway. No, this was an odd invitation, and perhaps surprisingly, it caught his attention. He didn't have much to do for the rest of the week anyway, so with a huff, Lehkazeran took to the air, flying just a few feet off the ground as he made his way to the tavern. It'd take a bit ot get to the other side of the city, but he knew he'd pass plenty of folks enroute, and he went out of his way to unsettle a few, even baring his teeth at a handful now and then.


    I had the girdle. What happened. He smashes his fist against the creature. Cursed Hippolyte. I tricked you out the girdle. Gods be damned. This has to be the work of Aphrodite The flurry of attacks from the creature are easily avoided as he lands a series of devastating punches crushing and cracking one of the creatures scales causing it to howl out in pain. This Diana. She is new. Where did she come from. Her power rivals mine. Is she too born of the gods. No matter I will have my vengeance. I will put them under my boot yet again.. The fiery breath washes over as he stands uninjured smiling at the creature.

    "You fought well. The fire even made me break a sweat but now you die." A final exchange of punches leaves the golden dragon slumping to the ground taking it's last breath. Its tongue flops out and strange enough as it uncoils a fancy scroll gilded in gold tumbles out. Curious Hercules picks up the scroll and reads it.

    "Is this a trick of you Hera? Or an invitation from my father. Which could still be a trick. Either way I need time to plot the demise of Hippolyte, and what to do about this Diana. Now this Hyraeatan. A different plane. I am curious."

    With that Hercules shifts planes. Before long he finds his way to Hyraeatan and the Crossing House. He enters to see the huge Mechanical Framed creature. Before him he sees a strapping physical specimen of a man. Bear chested wearing little more than a belted skirt. Draped over his shoulders is the pelt of what was once a fearsome lion. Its head made to bu pulled up over his as a hood. Hercules

    "Greetings. I am Hercules. Do you talk." Before you may respond you hear the same words enter your brain. "Greetings I am Hercules. I can communicate with any manner of creature this way. What's your name?"

    Crap sorry guys you ninja'd me as I was pulled away at work while finishing the post. Please feel free to interact with me as you come to the House. I do have a site install tomorrow at work so may not post much again until Friday.


    AC & Saves:
  • base|[in suit]|{suit itself}
  • AC 29/t20/ff25
  • [AC 37/t20/ff33]
  • {AC 29/t11/ff26}
  • Saves |F:16|R:17[24]|W:19
  • (all saves +1 vs traps)
  • Contemplative Incanter/Scholar/Technician 10
    HP & SR:
  • HP 110/110
  • {suit HP 160/160 hardness 20}
  • SR 25
  • "I do, in fact, communicate in this fashion. What brings you here? A large drink?"


    "That's my business metal man, but if your offering a drink then sure give me one."

    He takes a seat and watches as the man approaches being escorted by some guards and then the dragon like creature lands.

    Someone has something brewing.

    He holds up his letter.

    "You lot, you get one of these fancy letters too? Or is one of you in charge and can let Hercules know why he was summoned here."


    F Maftet Striker 10/Incanter 10/Unchained Rogue 10 | HP 156/176 | AC: 30+3 T: 20+3 Fl: 23+1 | CMB: +19 CMD: 39 | F +14 R +14+2 W +6 | Init +4+2 | Perc: +13 | Spell Points 13/16 | WRATH OF SEKHMET 0/10 | Tension 0/7 | Current Effects: +4 Dex, Divine Favor, Haste

    Nephre scowls at the ruins. That had been a disappointment. Just some boring skeletons and zombies, and some easily disabled traps.

    Hardly a challenge.

    Not to mention there'd just been a measly handful of coins hidden within. She almost wondered if someone else had raided the place before. Whatever. She growls and punches one of the stones that had once formed a fancy archway in front of the place, her fist cracking the rock just a bit at the impact point.

    Turning away, she notices something on the ground a few feet away. Curious, but wary, she stalks up to it, looking for any signs of magical traps or the like. Seeing none, she picks it up and reads it over.

    Nephre cackles when she's done reading. A mysterious job offer? Taking her to Hyrataen, of all places? Sure, why the blazes not? If worst came to worst, after all, she'd just punch whoever was wasting her time in the face. Or whoever thought they could trap her, if that was the case.

    She snaps the token and strides confidently through the portal it created, finding a bustling city on the other side with the inn right in front of her. Grinning widely in anticipation she pads in the door, past some sort of robot or golem or inevitable (she didn't look closely enough to tell which), just in time to hear someone asking about the invitations.

    "You, too?" she asks the man, sizing him up. She slams a fist into her palm. "Sounds like someone needs some faces broken, doesn't it?"

    Her smile at this thought has a definite, disturbing edge of bloodlust.

    Description:
    From the waist down, Nephre resembles a muscular, bipedal lioness, with digitigrade legs, a tail ending in a tuft of brown hairs, and fur the yellow-brown of dry grass. From the waist up she looks like an athletic young woman with tanned skin and brown hair, amber eyes, and a large pair of wings patterned like those of a black kite. She usually wears a short linen skirt and a sleeveless top. Most of her skin is covered in a network of tattoos of various colors. Particularly prominent are a set of red-ochre tattoos on her face that make her face look like it's that of a lioness.


    AC & Saves:
  • base|[in suit]|{suit itself}
  • AC 29/t20/ff25
  • [AC 37/t20/ff33]
  • {AC 29/t11/ff26}
  • Saves |F:16|R:17[24]|W:19
  • (all saves +1 vs traps)
  • Contemplative Incanter/Scholar/Technician 10
    HP & SR:
  • HP 110/110
  • {suit HP 160/160 hardness 20}
  • SR 25
  • "of course I am not offering. I'm just here because of the letters."


    NE Male Human | HP 208/208 | AC 12 (FF 10) | DR 6/- | Fort +11, Ref +7, Will +7 | Init +2 | Perception +13 | 75% chance to negate crits and snk attk |

    An exceptionally scarred man works in a lab with beakers, bottles, and all manner of other alchemical devices about. The lighting comes only from the multitude of fires under the respective multitude of beakers filled with bubbling liquids. Though the sources themselves produce little light individually, the refraction from the various liquids, glass containers and the metal walls light up the metal room surprisingly well. The only exit to this room is a metal door that has a small window. Holes in the ceiling are made visible by the channeling of smoke that would otherwise quickly fill this cell.

    The man turns the page of the notebook he is writing in to see a fancy, gilded paper. He starts slightly in surprise, adjusts his glasses, and reads the note. A wry smile creases his face as he says,"Well Bash, it looks like 'your services' are requested. How delightful." A deep rumbling seems to respond to his words.

    The man then takes the paper from his notebook and holds it up to the small window and shouts, "I have been summoned! I don't suppose you'd kindly unlock the door?!"

    **************

    The exceptionally scarred man enters the establishment with a slight flair as he swings the door open joyously. He then immediately turns around, seemingly responding to some words from outside. He receives a portable alchemy kit from the outside and slings it over his shoulder easily (despite it looking quite weighty). He then makes a shooing motions with his hands and says jokingly, "Oh, calm down. There are some guards in here. They'll scream if you are needed." And with that, he lets the door close and walks over to the others gathered.

    This average sized human has a pretty normal build and wears a brown leather lab coat and simple brown boots. The only odd thing about this man, aside from his scars is the slight bulge that is on the left side of his chest. He adjusts his glasses slightly and, with the smile on his face inquires, "So! Who here desires some destruction?"


    A jovial young human girl enters the tavern. On top of having literal fire for hair and her entire body being on fire, her eyes are also orbs of flame. Despite all of the...fire...she wears a fashionable crop top and short shorts, advertising her shapely frame. As she walks/skips/dances over to the gathering with a smile she takes a very small stone out of her ear. "Hey there!" she says perkily, "Someone here send me a letter?"


    Neutral Evil Half-Moroi (Wyvaran) Antipaladin/Monk/Sorcerer | Perception +16; Init +7

    Lehkazeran sighs to himself quietly as he watches the group beginning to assemble. From the way things are going it's clear none of those already here have organized the get together, but these things did tend to sorry themselves out, eventually. Best to get introduced now.

    Lumbering over the distinct opposite of the young woman, there's a palpable aura of discomfort when Lehkazeran joins the group. Some if the locals might know his name already, he reasoned, but for the others he introduced himself, first in Draconic and them in a common language: "I am Lehkazeran, and I too have been...summoned here. And I am rarely summoned...outside the hierarchy of the Sovereignty, that is."


    Male Judow (Living Experiment) | Legendary Fighter 9 and Warder 1 / Hedgewitch 10 / Cryptic 10

    Nikolsi crept slowly down the hall of the mansion, looking for any sign of the guards having changed their patrol again. He freezes in place against the shadow cast by a column as a guard walks out of the room two doors ahead on the left. That's the third time they've changed their pattern tonight... I must have spooked the old hag. Shame. If she'd only have offered me that box, these guards would still be falling asleep in their regular beat. My offer to buy the box offended her somehow... I wonder if she knew I didn't want the contents?

    As the guard moves out of sight around the corner, Nikolsi walks ahead to the first door on the right. Approaching the jeweled box holding pride-of-place on the mantel, he easily checks for traps around the box. Finding none, he hesitates. Eyeing the box suspiciously, he focuses his psionic power on it and determines it is a fake. Tempted to take the box anyway - visually a perfect replica, and after all, the reason he wanted it was because of its appearance - he backs away from the mantel. It had become a point of pride now, not just desire. Stepping back and examining the room, he finds a discolored patch of wall. Within the patch is a hidden keyhole, which his picks make short work of. Opening the hidden compartment, he smiles as the real box comes into view. With a feeling of delight, Nikolsi picks up the box and, with a sudden grin, looks at the fake. He begins to transfer the contents from the real box to the compartment, pausing as an ornate envelope comes into view. He has no interest in the box's contents, but... this letter is addressed to him. Moreover, it is addressed to Nikolsi... not a name he had used in these parts. Curious, he takes the letter and stows it away in his shadow. Finishing the transfer of effects, Nikolsi places the real box on the mantel, shuts the compartment, and holding the fake box walks to the window. Looking out across the street, he focuses for a moment and then dissappears. In the same moment he steps from the shadows to walk into the night, leaving the mansion and it's successful job - putting down a haunt for the mistress of the manor, the box was a bonus - behind him.

    After reading the letter, Nikolsi is tempted to burn it and move on with his life. Unfortunately, that would leave unanswered how someone had learned his name - and more importantly, who had done so, and why they had placed this invite in such a tempting spot. Nothing needed to be sent, no tasks delegated or neighbors informed; Nikolsi valued his freedom from such attachments. Activating the transfer token, Nikolsi gates to Hyrataen and makes his way to the Crossing House. He keeps to the shadows, slipping around the crowds and travelers as if he were insubstantial. Entering the building at the same time as the massive man wearing the skins of others, Nikolsi makes his way to the shadows in the upper area of the roof, spying out another watching from the back. When the other moves forward and introduces himself, Nikolsi stays back. None of these were the ones to suss out his identity. He takes the time to study them and their interactions, waiting for someone carrying the mantle of authority to step forward.


    "Hold on a second metal head. You went and got me thinking about a large drink, and now I'm thirsty and you have nothing to offer. Typical. He pulls a cask of whine and then a mug. He pours the first mug and drinks it down.

    "Can you speak iron man? Not sure others can hear us. Unless I want them to hear me."

    He stands pouring another mug. He glares and stares at each person sizing them up.

    "What in the hell could the sender want with this group of bastards? Well at least I brought a drink if I have to sit and listen to all of you."

    Sorry guys old Hercules here has a 5 charisma so playing that as kind of an a$&$~~# but also want to talk and RP with you. Will be easier to be a dick to NPC's and such in game :)


    HP108 | AC25, T20, FF19 | F13, R18, W11; +4 and one size larger vs Wind | CMB +11 (+2 vs grapple), CMD 26 (+2 vs grapple) | Init +15 | Senses See In Darkness; Senses Perception +19 (+22 in dim light or darkness) Speed 40 ft. (70 ft. with at-will Expeditious Retreat), climb 20 ft. ----Melee rapier +13/+8 (1d4+5/18-20 plus 3d6 sneak attack) or unarmed strike +13/+8 (1d2+1 plus 3d6 sneak attack) ----Ranged +2 bomb 40' +17/+12 (6d6+13 fire plus 3d6 sneak attack); 18/day; Bomb discoveries: Explosive, Tanglefoot, Immolation, Thorny [+17/+12 (5d6+10 piercing plus 3d6 sneak attack)]

    Dymer had just returned from collecting payment for his latest bounty - a surprisingly simple item snatch - and decided to go for a drink, when Roland, the co-owner of the bounty running business Dymer usually picked up jobs from, stopped him just outside the door with a letter in hand and the long familiar drawl in his speech. "Hey boss, sorry to delay yer drink, but this letter came for you while you were out. No idea how it got here, no post for us in the last week or so," he says with a shrug. "Anyway, I'll let you get on with it. Give us a holler if you need any help. Randall can get a message to Ozzie right quick, but he seems to think you two will be meeting up sooner rather than later anyway."

    "Thank you," Dymer says as he takes the offered envelope. Reading it, and seeing Roland nearly anxious with curiosity despite his earlier valediction, he hands the letter to Roland to peruse. "Let me know what you think. I've traveled nearly the world over and I've never even heard of this place. I'm going to go do some research, but ask Randall for me, would you?"

    Roland shakes his head as soon as he finishes reading the letter. "No need; I've heard of this place. Came across it when Randall and I were doing some research into, well, you. Turns out the Shadow Plane has a back door. Come on. I'll explain on the way to the library and we can see what else we can find out about this place, just so you know what ye're getting yerself into when you get there. And don' even play coy like yer not gonna go. We both know you can't keep out o' trouble, or a mystery."

    Dymer only grins in response.

    ======
    Several weeks later, involving a lot of reading, and calling in quite a few favors.
    =====

    "Thanks for the help, old friend. If you see Ozzie, let him know I'll see what I can do about finding a better way between here and there. He'd never let me live it down if I didn't let him in on the fun." And with a final shake of Roland's hand, Dymer leaves Golarion behind and finds himself in Hyraeatan, even if he still doesn't know exactly what he's in for.

    Fortunately, all cities have an underlying pattern to them. The way pedestrians move about in the street - even if their own manner of movement differs - some unspoken but omniversally-acknowledge code that the largest complex being in the cosmos can't escape: most people will choose to turn a blind eye to the downtrodden in their midst. Blending in takes barely even a thought, his short stature, dark color, and artificially-enhanced, disheveled look ensure people avert their eyes and pay as little attention to him as possible as Thirteen makes his way through the moving throng of people, capturing snippets of conversation that eventually place him outside of Crossing House tavern, a scant hundred meters away from where he originally appeared, but with days worth of travel undertaken to gain an understanding of the area.

    Instinctively changing his bearing and appearance, Dymer enters the tavern with a brazen "Gooood morning, everyone!" quickly taking stock of who jerks to look at the intruder, flight-or-fight kicking in in the smallest of amounts, and who is so used to the unusual that they scarcely even bother to glance at him in the doorway. And then, resisting the urge to fall into the interior shadows and walk out of the opposite wall next to an empty table, Dymer jaunts over to the bar and asks for a menu.


    Male Advanced Human Mageknight (Martial) 10 / Barbarian (Berserker) 10 / Unchained Rogue (Bruiser) 10

    Rattlebones was sitting quietly, enjoying his breakfast, when the letter arrived. At first he was rather dismayed -- someone had gone to the considerable trouble of finding him, preparing a missive, and sending it in an untraceable manner -- without realizing that the letter stretched from his feet to his shoulders. After cleaning up the clutter that had been knocked over by the paper nearly the size of his dining table, he tacked it to a wall so he could read it.

    He knew the Crossing House. He had visited the building on a mission once. Nasty business, that. He stroked his chin in thought for only a moment before settling his mind. He finished his coffee, grabbed his hat and coat, and set off for the tavern.

    The establishment was perhaps three miles away through the district traffic, and it took him a little over a minute to reach the front step. He let himself in when another guest opened the door.

    He listened and watched. And at the right moment...

    The tavern patrons see a tiny little man, no more than shin-height to a human, with light purple skin and milky white eyes suddenly appear standing on the bar. His head is bald, his face is angular, and his teeth are sharp. He is dressed in what could only be described as a carnival barker's outfit - a tall tophat, a suit with exaggerated lapels and tailcoats, and leather dress shoes. He wears a tiny rapier in a scabbard at his waist. 


    "I reckon someone rather powerful, Mr. Hercules."

    He tips his hat and gives a bow. His voice is small, tinny, and folksy.


    "Whoever they are, they have us at a disadvantage, and we ought to tread lightly."


    F Maftet Striker 10/Incanter 10/Unchained Rogue 10 | HP 156/176 | AC: 30+3 T: 20+3 Fl: 23+1 | CMB: +19 CMD: 39 | F +14 R +14+2 W +6 | Init +4+2 | Perc: +13 | Spell Points 13/16 | WRATH OF SEKHMET 0/10 | Tension 0/7 | Current Effects: +4 Dex, Divine Favor, Haste

    Nephre doesn't jump when Dymer enters. After all, the procession of various interesting characters coming into the tavern was so varied that one more loudmouth hardly made a difference.

    The tiny man--some kind of fey, she guessed--had an interesting point, though. From what she guessed, most of these beings were actually about on her level, which meant there was some serious power involved here. Or at least seriously deep pockets, which... was about the same thing, given what you could buy with that in a city like this.

    She thought the caution was misplaced, though. "What, you think someone would get together this kind of muscle and then be dumb enough to mess with us?" she asks, mockingly. "Somebody's got a lot of money and something big they need hit, is my read. No doubt they'll make some 'grand entrance' here in a bit or something."


    "Anything seeking me out must have heard of my trials. This will give me time to regroup now that Hippolyte has her girdle back and a daughter who's power begins to rival mine. I have to plan to take back control of and enslave the Amazon's."

    He pours another mug of whine.

    "Not that I care, just board and waiting for this benefactor. I have heard of none of you. Are any of you from Earth? I could use some extra muscle after this is over if any of you are worth a s!#&. I will enslave those b++$!es again."

    Is this too offensive for anyone? I have the Zeal inquisition with Favored Enemy Amazon's as Hercules had enslaved them for a time, this is as far as I would go and by no mean reflects how I feel :) I am playing him Neutral Evil


    Male Judow (Living Experiment) | Legendary Fighter 9 and Warder 1 / Hedgewitch 10 / Cryptic 10

    Nikolsi stifles an immediate urge to provide a “grand entrance” right after the woman mentions it; as enjoyable as that would be, his plan to wait for the authorities behind the letter was still good. Still, he couldn’t help but imagine warping into the middle of the room, surrounded by shadows and with the fanfare of trumpets echoing away. Nikolsi grins at his imagination, knowing such an entrance would not impress most of these fine, upstanding members of... well, some not quite as upstanding groups.


    Neutral Evil Half-Moroi (Wyvaran) Antipaladin/Monk/Sorcerer | Perception +16; Init +7

    Lehkazeran holds his tongue, noticing that most if not all of the folks talking are foreign to the city. Glancing around the room, he looks for other invitees that haven't joined in the collective group yet.

    "Well said," he offers to Nephre, noting internally that her point is wiser than most things that have been said thus far.

    He opens his mouth to chide Hercules regarding his enslavement goals, but thinking better of it, instead closes it-- but not before a few drops of bright green acid drip out and onto the bar, sizzling as they burn small holes into the wood.


    AC & Saves:
  • base|[in suit]|{suit itself}
  • AC 29/t20/ff25
  • [AC 37/t20/ff33]
  • {AC 29/t11/ff26}
  • Saves |F:16|R:17[24]|W:19
  • (all saves +1 vs traps)
  • Contemplative Incanter/Scholar/Technician 10
    HP & SR:
  • HP 110/110
  • {suit HP 160/160 hardness 20}
  • SR 25
  • With the sound of well-oiled servos in action, Scrivener tilts slightly up to look at the rafters (blindsight), then looks back to Hercules before addressing everyone mentally (including the mysterious observer above), "I can be heard by everyone if I so choose."


    Male Judow (Living Experiment) | Legendary Fighter 9 and Warder 1 / Hedgewitch 10 / Cryptic 10

    Let's assume Nikolsi isn't really trying to hide then ;) - Lurker from the Scout Sphere forces a perception check vs Stealth, and if I had everything up I'd be at 46 + 1d6 + 1d20 on stealth, not including Invisibility for another +20-40.

    Nikolsi shifts in his perch as the voice speaks into his mind. Nicely spotted. I suppose I may as well join the party. Nikolsi lowers himself to the ground (levitation via Kinetic Drift feat) and steps out of the shadows to lean against a wall nearby the mechanical construct. He takes the time to openly look at each individual, challenging no-one and refusing to be challenged.


    HP108 | AC25, T20, FF19 | F13, R18, W11; +4 and one size larger vs Wind | CMB +11 (+2 vs grapple), CMD 26 (+2 vs grapple) | Init +15 | Senses See In Darkness; Senses Perception +19 (+22 in dim light or darkness) Speed 40 ft. (70 ft. with at-will Expeditious Retreat), climb 20 ft. ----Melee rapier +13/+8 (1d4+5/18-20 plus 3d6 sneak attack) or unarmed strike +13/+8 (1d2+1 plus 3d6 sneak attack) ----Ranged +2 bomb 40' +17/+12 (6d6+13 fire plus 3d6 sneak attack); 18/day; Bomb discoveries: Explosive, Tanglefoot, Immolation, Thorny [+17/+12 (5d6+10 piercing plus 3d6 sneak attack)]

    Dymer gets a second drink from the bar and instinctively reaches out to interact with who appears to be the only other shadow-user currently in the tavern. Setting the second drink down in front of Nikolsi, Dymer mutters a greeting under his breath. Sseeksho cheuyokessaw.

    Shadowtongue:
    Hello friend.
    Just fyi, I'm totally using a transliteration of "hello friend" typed into theparselmouth.com for how the actual language sounds. "It is a sibilant language of quiet hisses and whispered words. Many words are pronounced with a delicate intake of breath. Non-speakers who hear it often remark that it sounds like it is being spoken backwards."

    Also, holy crap. Nikolsi and Dymer are basically the same character. Compare our backgrounds and tell me I'm wrong.


    "Ah good on you spare parts. You a telepath then as well? Or some experiment of a brain trapped in a machine? Must be terrible not to drink. I myself haven't needed too for a few hundred years but I do like it. I sensed the one in the shadows as well thought they would appear when they wanted. Seems none of these others a+$!+%&s want to chat."

    He stands and stretches pouring another mug.

    "Dice, games of chance anyone got anything to pass the time we can make it a drinking game. Don't make Hercules drink alone."


    AC & Saves:
  • base|[in suit]|{suit itself}
  • AC 29/t20/ff25
  • [AC 37/t20/ff33]
  • {AC 29/t11/ff26}
  • Saves |F:16|R:17[24]|W:19
  • (all saves +1 vs traps)
  • Contemplative Incanter/Scholar/Technician 10
    HP & SR:
  • HP 110/110
  • {suit HP 160/160 hardness 20}
  • SR 25
  • "Drinking dulls the senses with no expanded benefits. In safe situations I'd use psychotropic drugs, but not on a job."

    I could detect that, but only on a pretty good roll


    F Maftet Striker 10/Incanter 10/Unchained Rogue 10 | HP 156/176 | AC: 30+3 T: 20+3 Fl: 23+1 | CMB: +19 CMD: 39 | F +14 R +14+2 W +6 | Init +4+2 | Perc: +13 | Spell Points 13/16 | WRATH OF SEKHMET 0/10 | Tension 0/7 | Current Effects: +4 Dex, Divine Favor, Haste

    If Nephre knew who the Amazons were she'd probably take issue, but... she doesn't. :D

    Nephre considers this 'Hercules' with narrowed eyes. He seemed the sort who'd get on her nerves fast--in fact, he already was.

    "Doubt you'll find anyone from the same planet as you here, tough guy," she states. "Wherever you're from's just a little speck in a big universe. And the way we've all been gathered, seems to me like it'd be pretty unlikely we're from the same neighborhood. Or even the same plane."

    She snorts and jerks a thumb at the recently revealed Nikolsi. "Like him. You're not from the Prime Material, right?"


    Male Judow (Living Experiment) | Legendary Fighter 9 and Warder 1 / Hedgewitch 10 / Cryptic 10

    Nikolsi looks down in surprise at the drink, then back up to short being who gave it to him. متشکرم، دوست., he replies to him, and accepts the drink. When the tall bare-chested man speaks, Nikolsi holds in a laugh. While it is possible his analysis was off, he strongly suspected the man had no idea who was in the shadows. Regardless, his stated desire to enslave others has Nikolsi looking to avoid getting too friendly with the man. Looking over to Nephre and her casual reference to himself, he nods his head. I am acquainted with it, but no. I am not really from anywhere... material. Call me Endrigo. As if to accentuate his statement, a small, almost transparent creature crawls out from the cuff of his shirt, and then flies up to perch on Nikolsi's shoulder. It has no wings, but is clearly flying; it looks like a cross between a squirrel and a fox, with a golden tinge. The little one is Aella. Don't let her fool you - she's a prankster, no mistake.

    Shadowtongue:
    My thanks, friend.

    Using Persian, because the parselmouth audio was creepy. >.< I'm curious what everyon's skill modifiers are to various things. Games like this can make for some crazy bonuses. And Dymer - you and I must have been channeling the same muse when we made our characters. Aella has the statistics of a cat familiar, but is basically the fox-squirrel creature from Nausicaa.

    Dark Archive

    Bloodrager/U.Rogue//Alchemist(sapper)//Magus (Eldritch Archer)

    The bustling cavern market below was always an amazing sight. A sight that few were able to enjoy. A number of hooded figures traveled together in packs, carrying lanterns that traveled barely further than an arm’s length. They stopped at bare bone signs or greets, entering the least remarkable sandstone buildings. Only the occasional flash of expensive cloth and jewelry underneath gave hint that the men were far wealthier than the typical cutthroats.

    The oppressive darkness was a strong deterrent many shenanigans. Ozzie leaned against one of the few perches, in his favorite human guise. It was his favorite perk to his relationship with Mama Sting. That and all the delicious magical goodies he came in contact with. He ran his soft human fingers over the chip that came with the letter, The raised ridges of the emblem felt a lot different than with his goblin digits. Ozzie had been told to expect something like this, an invitation to make nice for his latest transgression. The goblin resisted the urge to crush the magical token between his fingers. He didn’t appreciate being strong armed, and perhaps this bit of pride could be traced back to an opening he could exploit.

    He wasn’t sure how Thirteen got roped into it, but they both had gotten an invitation. Dymer had offered him a lift, but it really was unnecessary. Valentine owed him a favor, and using his magic mirror the perfect way that he could make good on it.To be honest, Ozzie was really just looking for an excuse to give the slightly cursed object a try.

    -----On the appointed day-----

    A hideous creature took form in the pane as if emerging from a fog and tried impotently to push through into the material plane. Ozzie looked on at the creature sitting next to his reflection in the Crossing House tavern’s window. He grimaces and hoped Valentine was right. The side effect should hopeful go away in a day or two, if the shopkeeper was right.

    Walking inside,he immediately spotted Thirteen sitting at the bar. It had been some time since they were in the same room together. He checked his current appearance. Handsome human, in an expensive navy dress shirt cut short. His numerical mark still stamped his forearm, although there wasn’t much reason for it to be there. He still looked sharp enough to slit someone’s throat. Unsheathing an amazingly intricate mithril dagger with small studded gems in the hilt, Ozzie sat down next to Thirteen and stabbed it into the wood.. ”Brother. I saw a raging ar$eh*le making a mess with this in tow, and I immediately thought of you. Keep it. It suits you”


    "Drinking is for pleasure metal man does your brain not remember?"

    He looks to the woman.

    "You would give me a lesson on the universe. Listen girl there is in fact a multiverse. fifty twoish known for now. I am from earth one. Don't care were this place is. Not here to make friends. Was bored and this summons appeared so I hopped over to see what it had to offer. Thought we could pass the time."

    He leans the chair back and puts his feet up on the table.


    Male Advanced Human Mageknight (Martial) 10 / Barbarian (Berserker) 10 / Unchained Rogue (Bruiser) 10

    "Oh, I think taking care would be prudent." The small figure takes a seat on a salt shaker and crosses one leg over the other. "We are dealing with someone or something that can find all of us, send us letters, and whisk us here with jaunt tokens -- all while punching through cosmological barriers without breaking a sweat -- for the purpose of gathering in one tavern a rather lethal group of people."

    He grins. "I'm no silly billy. Our host is powerful, desperate, or stupid, and any of those three are dangerous in my book."


    HP108 | AC25, T20, FF19 | F13, R18, W11; +4 and one size larger vs Wind | CMB +11 (+2 vs grapple), CMD 26 (+2 vs grapple) | Init +15 | Senses See In Darkness; Senses Perception +19 (+22 in dim light or darkness) Speed 40 ft. (70 ft. with at-will Expeditious Retreat), climb 20 ft. ----Melee rapier +13/+8 (1d4+5/18-20 plus 3d6 sneak attack) or unarmed strike +13/+8 (1d2+1 plus 3d6 sneak attack) ----Ranged +2 bomb 40' +17/+12 (6d6+13 fire plus 3d6 sneak attack); 18/day; Bomb discoveries: Explosive, Tanglefoot, Immolation, Thorny [+17/+12 (5d6+10 piercing plus 3d6 sneak attack)]

    With a joyous smile, Dymer hugs the newcomer in greeting, "Ozzie, my friend! I'm glad that you were invited as well. That should make things entertaining, at the very least." Dymer's use of 'Ozzie' is a sublte notice for his friend to only refer to him as 'Dymer', at least for the time being. Then, finally turning his attention to the gift, Dymer pulls the ornate dagger from the table and admires it with a small whistle. "That is beautiful. I'll have to remember to get a sheathe to fit it, but for now..." Dymer trails off as he slips the dagger into his right boot.

    "So, did anybody's letter say why we were all gathered here?"


    Caught between two rather serious and silent guards, Gabriel just relaxes and sees how the place starts to fill. "It seems as if all the crap from the planes was gathered here today. I wonder if someone's intentions are to just push the toilet button."

    Someone mentions the letters, and Gabriel can't help but to answer. "All I know is I didn't get any letter. I was asked to come in person, so I must be important. Important enough that my two friends here" he says while leaning his head to both sides, towards the guards, "won't let me sign any autographs, sorry" he finishes, smiling as he looks down at his chained hands.


    male undead Gunslinger(pistolero)/Inquisitor(sanctified slayer, preacher)/Sorcerer

    Jonah stood over the dead body of a man who wore the same face as him. sharp features, black hair, prominent chin. and the pale pallid skin of an undead creature. one of his pistols glows slightly as he levels it at the corpse, then fires a silent bullet into the thing's face. the bullet sinks in, but as it does the body unravels falling to dust.

    in seconds, all that is left is the clothin the man was wearing. Another one down. still so many left. how does he make so many in such a short time?

    something catches Jonah's eye sticking out of a jacket pocket in the pile of clothing. he reaches down and pulls out a note. an invitation. Interesting. I think I'll pull this thread, see if it leads to more of the copies...

    Jonah fishes around in the pockets of the vanished man, finding the token. he activates it without a second thought, finding himself transported to an unknown city.

    He locates the bar and enters, taking in the sight of so many odd creatures. he takes note of the magical energes around the building, but shrugs and moves in anyways, finding a table and waiting for something to happen.


    AC & Saves:
  • base|[in suit]|{suit itself}
  • AC 29/t20/ff25
  • [AC 37/t20/ff33]
  • {AC 29/t11/ff26}
  • Saves |F:16|R:17[24]|W:19
  • (all saves +1 vs traps)
  • Contemplative Incanter/Scholar/Technician 10
    HP & SR:
  • HP 110/110
  • {suit HP 160/160 hardness 20}
  • SR 25
  • "I was given no reason. Perhaps curiosity is enough."


    Vala sighed as she looked around the lab, pondering, wondering where she could've put it. Almost faster than could be tracked, she zipped over to one cabinet, then the next. No, not in the cabinets. If it was there, she would've found it by now. Maybe under one of the desks? Alas, it wasn't there either. Still, if it was easy yp find, what was inside was hardly worth taking. Aaronson over ove of the bodies, she moved to the bookshelf, giving it a quick lookover before she found a book that seemed out of place. Pulling it from the shelf revealed not a door, but a poisonous dart!

    With it sticking out of her arm, she chuckled. Pulling it out and giving it a whiff, then a taste, she nodded approvingly. That would killed a lesser being. Still, it meant she was close. Looking to the wall in front of her, Vala pressed herself against it, vibrating her molecules until she slipped through the wall into a secret hallway. Much better. Still vibrating, a few more traps went off, though each phased through her harmlessly until she reached a vault door.

    Finding it had a wall of force blocking her from entry but with a locking mechanism, she went to work on it with a few odd looking devices before opening it with ease. Entering the room, she found a variety of oddities, though the one that intrigued her most was what she came here for-an odd clockwork device. Picking it up gingerly, Vala studied it intently, though excitement turned to frustration as lightning crackled in her hands, destroying the object. It wasn't what she was looking for.

    As she started to leave though, she noticed an envelope under where the item had been. Reading the contents, she frowned. Someone knew who she was, and that she'd been coming here, something she'd just decided on. This was worth finding out.

    Taking he long way by running, she made or to the tavern rather quickly. Drinking an extract shes prepared, her appearance changed to that of an older man with black hair and glasses. Walking in with a limp, she settled in and began eavesdropping on the others in the bar


    F Maftet Striker 10/Incanter 10/Unchained Rogue 10 | HP 156/176 | AC: 30+3 T: 20+3 Fl: 23+1 | CMB: +19 CMD: 39 | F +14 R +14+2 W +6 | Init +4+2 | Perc: +13 | Spell Points 13/16 | WRATH OF SEKHMET 0/10 | Tension 0/7 | Current Effects: +4 Dex, Divine Favor, Haste
    Hercules "Ruler of the Amazons" wrote:

    He looks to the woman.

    "You would give me a lesson on the universe. Listen girl there is in fact a multiverse. fifty twoish known for now. I am from earth one. Don't care were this place is. Not here to make friends. Was bored and this summons appeared so I hopped over to see what it had to offer. Thought we could pass the time."

    He leans the chair back and puts his feet up on the table.

    Nephre snorts. "If you already knew then why throw around names like they mean something?" she asks, then shakes her head and turns to look over the rest of the group, tail flicking in irritation.


    The flaming girl tilts her head as she also turns her head toward the vulgar muscle man. "Its a shame those muscles are wasted on that brain of yours." She then looks to the others and gives a warming, mischievous smile.,"I'm more interested in those that are less obvious about their packages." Her gaze settles on Gabriel, "Like those shackles. What are they holding back?" As she says this she wanders closer. The room begins feeling noticeably warmer.

    Dark Archive

    Bloodrager/U.Rogue//Alchemist(sapper)//Magus (Eldritch Archer)

    "By the looks of it," Ozzie looks around for dramatic effect "someone is either trying to kill a god, wipe a country off the map, or throw the most bloody party. Fortunately, those three aren't mutually exclusive."

    The people here were positively fascinating. Their mix of magic and planar influences were something he could take apart piece by juicy fleshy piece. In the excitement, he let his guise flicker, although there didn't seem to be much underneath. Ozzie YELLED "Who's ready for a night of bacchanal and debauchery!", and laughed at the confused stares. He waved off any questions about the true purpose of their invitation. Chances are, this night was going to be fun regardless.


    Female Advanced Human Zealot 10 // Rajah 10 // Antipaladin (Insinuator) 2 / Incantor 7 / Oracle 1 HP:209/209 AC 39, t 30, ff 27 Perception +17, Init +19, F+18, R+17, W+20, +2 vs death, roll twice vs mind-effecting

    “Checkmate.”, she whispers as she withdraws the 3 feet of adamantine from what was once a living creature.

    The woman holds out her sword, and a 4 foot red and white marble statue of a pawn moves forward, and then the blade is clean.

    She looks over to a second pawn that is holding a mirror. She sheaths her blade and fixes her hair. She then notices an unusual envelope in the reflection, that she did not recall noticing during the altercation.
    She motions toward it and the first pawn delivers it to her.

    Hmm, strange it is addressed to Countess Bloodhawk. She had not been addressed like this since her arrival in Hyraeatan.

    After pondering the situation, she gathers her mark, teleports herself back to deliver the target, then leaves without a word.
    After heading back to her quarters, she activates the glamer on her armor into an alluring red dress. She then has her pawns perform some of their magics to finish out the touches on her outfit.

    When traveling to the Crossing House, Jasmine skips past most of the distance with teleportation. She dismisses all but 2 of her pawns. One carries her sword and her shield. While the other moves to open doors for her.

    With one pawn leading, and another following, The Crimson Countess enters the Crossing House.

    She takes stock of the others present. The leading pawn moves over to an empty chair next to the scarred man. It pulls the chair out. The Countess moves to seat herself in such a manner as to be able to observe the maximum amount of space. The pawn holding the sword and shield stands near.

    She concentrates, adding Dr. Craven to her collective, then reaches her thoughts out to him.
    “Hmm, it seems we are to be working together again. Have I missed anything yet?”


    NE Male Human | HP 208/208 | AC 12 (FF 10) | DR 6/- | Fort +11, Ref +7, Will +7 | Init +2 | Perception +13 | 75% chance to negate crits and snk attk |

    Dr. Craven's eyes alight with amusement at the sight of the red-dressed human woman. He gives a mocking bow as she sits in her chair. "Oh, Bash is not going to be happy to see you. Sorry lady, he's not a fan. So far just some phallic expressions and displays. It was inevitably soon leading to comparing. No appearance from the author of our letters."

    The scarred man then turns to the others, gives a deeper bow and addresses, "I have the pleasure to present her ladyship, the Crimson Countess." He also gestures widely with his arms toward Jasmine.


    Male Archangel of Awesome Paladin of Badassery 20

    I will be posting some tomorrow, though the official start is still over a week away. However, question for our dear Countess: What do you your pawns look like? Are they constructs or living servants?


    Female Advanced Human Zealot 10 // Rajah 10 // Antipaladin (Insinuator) 2 / Incantor 7 / Oracle 1 HP:209/209 AC 39, t 30, ff 27 Perception +17, Init +19, F+18, R+17, W+20, +2 vs death, roll twice vs mind-effecting

    The woman inclines her head slightly at Dr. Craven's introduction, but still seems mostly interested in assessing the others gathered rather than directly interacting with them at this time.

    "Yes, your big friend is quite crude. I expect that this situation is bound to get quite messy considering you and he were invited. And perhaps even before things officially get started with those two hot-heads"

    After the last thought she indicates to Dr. Craven she is refering to the Maftet and the loud human man.

    The pawns are partially transparent, obviously magical constructs. More details were posted over in the discussion thread


    AC & Saves:
  • base|[in suit]|{suit itself}
  • AC 29/t20/ff25
  • [AC 37/t20/ff33]
  • {AC 29/t11/ff26}
  • Saves |F:16|R:17[24]|W:19
  • (all saves +1 vs traps)
  • Contemplative Incanter/Scholar/Technician 10
    HP & SR:
  • HP 110/110
  • {suit HP 160/160 hardness 20}
  • SR 25
  • The large construct turns to the group assembled before addressing them all telepathically. "I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am called Scrivener."


    Neutral Evil Half-Moroi (Wyvaran) Antipaladin/Monk/Sorcerer | Perception +16; Init +7

    Lehkazeran flinched at the immediate and unexpected intrusion into his mind, turning to the newly introduced Scrivener and starting at him with one wide, unblinking eye. He'd grown fond of the pose—it made him feel bigger than whoever he was looking at, like a dragon ought to feel. And not bothering to turn one's head fully implied something, or at least he thought so.

    Turning back without saying anything, Lehkazeran eyed The Countess and the Doctor. He wouldn't have said it outright, but it was good to see familiar faces, if only because with so many strong personalities in the room sudden violence wasn't out of the question. Especially if this Hercules fellow kept it up...


    Male Archangel of Awesome Paladin of Badassery 20

    Shortly after The Countess arrival, a fae serving woman minus the lantern makes her way over to the group of disparate group of ne'er-do-wells and informs them "Your host will be here shortly. However, until then, you have a running tab on them. So what can I get ya?" She says flashing them a bright smile.


    Male Judow (Living Experiment) | Legendary Fighter 9 and Warder 1 / Hedgewitch 10 / Cryptic 10

    Nikolsi perks up at the news that someone else is running the tab. Looking down at the drink he had just finished, he focuses on the serving woman and catches her attention. If you would, I would like a glass of whatever you most recommend - cost being no objection, of course. If they are going to string us along like this, they may as well pay for some of our time! And I still want to know how they knew my name... and who "they" are...


    Female Advanced Human Zealot 10 // Rajah 10 // Antipaladin (Insinuator) 2 / Incantor 7 / Oracle 1 HP:209/209 AC 39, t 30, ff 27 Perception +17, Init +19, F+18, R+17, W+20, +2 vs death, roll twice vs mind-effecting

    Speaking for the first time since her arrival, having seemed content to assess the others, "Arn't you just lovely. I'll have a glass of your finest syrah."

    The countess also nods to The Dragon, acknowledging another member of the Sovereign.


    NE Male Human | HP 208/208 | AC 12 (FF 10) | DR 6/- | Fort +11, Ref +7, Will +7 | Init +2 | Perception +13 | 75% chance to negate crits and snk attk |

    Dr. Craven holds up a hand at the fae. "No thank you, imbibing has a tendency to..," he pauses for a moment as if choosing the right words, "..have a negative effect on my mood." He then gives a smile and bows his head. Turning to the group once more and placing a hand on the bulge on his left chest, he says with mirth in his voice, "I'm just not myself when my mood goes sour."


    HP108 | AC25, T20, FF19 | F13, R18, W11; +4 and one size larger vs Wind | CMB +11 (+2 vs grapple), CMD 26 (+2 vs grapple) | Init +15 | Senses See In Darkness; Senses Perception +19 (+22 in dim light or darkness) Speed 40 ft. (70 ft. with at-will Expeditious Retreat), climb 20 ft. ----Melee rapier +13/+8 (1d4+5/18-20 plus 3d6 sneak attack) or unarmed strike +13/+8 (1d2+1 plus 3d6 sneak attack) ----Ranged +2 bomb 40' +17/+12 (6d6+13 fire plus 3d6 sneak attack); 18/day; Bomb discoveries: Explosive, Tanglefoot, Immolation, Thorny [+17/+12 (5d6+10 piercing plus 3d6 sneak attack)]

    Dymer considers for a moment before allowing himself one small snifter, "Ooh man. I could really go for some Chelaxian Pepper Whiskey right now. And, a legit set of dice for..." Dymer looks over the assembled crowd, "Hey! Anybody up for some Liar's Dice?"

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