Time Bandits

Game Master Monkeygod

Rattlebones whistles softly as he enters the room. "Well lah-dee-dah! Ain't these some shiny digs." He sits down and crosses a leg over his knee.

What I think when I hear "Legion of Doom".

Kn Local: 1d20 + 7 + 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 7 + (1) + 4 = 28

Gabriel is sure he knows the celestial, but cannot exactly recall other than the Parity he belongs to. Given he has no other viable choice, he follows the rest into the briefing room.

Animoira har to admit, she was intrigued. This many people, with their strange skills and ability to track them all down... maybe they could beused fpget her back home. Standing to her feet quickly, the facade of the older, injured man fading, revealing a fairly young woman with short blonde hair and a light brown, almost yellow leather jacket. Following alonfn she smiled at the setup "Nice set up. Seems like a war room. What sort of business did you have in mind for us?"

Nephre swaggers into the room along with the rest of the menagerie, her tail flicking one of the others who got too close to her.

She leans up against one of the walls, wings mostly closed and tail to one side.

"Obviously because someone needs a deniable asset to smash something. Or grab something."

She smiles. "Preferably both."

Now this place was far more interesting than the celestial. The human-shaped goblin was itching to go over it with a razor sharp comb. The crowd bumped and pushed him further in, bringing him back to reality. Any interest he showed would only be a knife in his back or leverage against him

Ozzie found himself a ledge to lean against and let his impatience bear out. ”You’ve gathered a dangerous.crowd. You might tell us what we’re doing here before we decide that we’re bored and dirty your tidy little library”

Nikolsi strolls in near the back, having let a number of folks precede him into the room. He knows there's no point to staying in the background - obviously, the celestial knows who he is to have issued the invitation in the first place - but old habits die hard. He's curious to see what the job is, and what kind carrots - or sticks - might be in place to keep a group such as this working together.

Dymer sedately follows the crowd, letting himself be pulled and pushed with the flow, but dipping into the shadows for a brief second to be at the back of the group when they reach the doors, noticing that it seems Nikolsi had the same idea. Great minds think alike and all that rot, Dymer thinks to himself with a smirk.

Hearing Ozzie's impatience coming through quite clearly, Dymer jaunts to Ozzie's side and draped one arm around his shoulders, his fingers tap, tap, tapping and his head bobbing along to a melody only he can hear. Speaking up jovially, Dymer says to Ozzie, "Patience, my friend. I'm sure he'll enlighten us all soon enough."

The Countess will get follow this angelic being. There is certainly something big going on.

While proceeding into the room, her evening gown transforming into resplendent crimson full plate. She takes her sword and shield from her servant, dismissing them both. She stows both into easily reached but non-threatening positions.

She will then proceed to seat herself as close to the head of the table as she can.

Dr. Craven follows into the new room with a smile and a bit of jingling from his alchemy kit.

Sio is quietly preparing herself breakfast when a piece of paper nearly falls inside the cauldron, the paper (and breakfast) rescued only by her reflexes. She ignores it for now; mysterious letters are all well and good, but breakfast comes first.

When she is done, however, she indulges her curiosity and reads the message.

”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 token. How will I ever get to the local tavern?" She sardonically muses to herself. "I guess they need a cook?"

It doesn't take much time to pack up her meagre belongings and start her trip; she knows the tavern well enough. She doesn't make too much haste, though, and arrives as a group are departing.

"Morning Cortia! Your boss looking for another cook?" She asks, passing the letter over to the fae. "Pretty mysterious way to address it though, did he send out more copies?"

Cortia chuckles a light, musical laugh at Sio's inquiry. "Actually, yeah we are, amusingly enough. That isn't why you were invited here, though. You were asked to come here for a meeting from my other boss. He just went into his private meeting room, feel free to join them." She points towards where the group Sio spotted upon arrival were headed.

Sio quirks a curious brow in that direction, then follows in that direction, tossing a "Well if this falls through let him know, please?"

Inside the room, she finds an unexpectedly large group of dubious looking types, bar the Celestial looking one, who just sticks out like a sore thumb. She's sure she has seen his face before...

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 8 + 2 = 24

It vaguely rings a bell, but alas, nothing comes to mind.

She does, however, take the closest empty seat; no need to be impolite after all.

'A Gazer, of course it is...' Lehkazeran replies over the network to The Countess and The Doctor, before following along on the conversation, and making his way silently to the next room, nodding along to the Countess but otherwise staying quiet, hoping to catch details others might miss.

He takes his time taking a seat, getting comfortable in the room and making sure nothing hides in the corners or lurks in the shadows before taking a seat with his back to as little of the room as possible...

"So what's wrong with tomorrow, today?" he says, once the group has fully transitioned and the doors have been shut behind them and properly secured.

"Or is it next week this time?"

"Temporal problems are always solved merely temporarily"

Sio can't help herself, really, and speaks up at that, "Don't you mean temporally?"

Deadpan, the machine replies, "precisely "

Dymer overhears Sio's pun and snorts into a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval.

Your host waits for you all to be seated, then introduces himself. "Again, thank you all for coming. I am Salvis Zorbenson, of the Foreseen. I have but a simple task for you all to complete, one that I am sure those of your diverse talents should have no problem accomplishing. On one of the remote islands of Lantan, on the continent of Faerun of Toril, is a museum tomb. It stores and displays the creations of Hakan Mutalib, an eccentric clockwork inventor. Rumored within are the blueprints and plans of several hypothetical designs that he was unable to complete or wasn't actually intelligent enough to build. Bring me these plans, and you may keep whatever else you find within. I'll also personally reward you."

Gabriel is not really interested in rewards. Well, not that he doesn't want his share, but he's more focused in other rewards, something he was promised he'll get if he cooperated.

He doesn't mention that, though. He's got other questions more akin to the problem at hand.

"What kind of intel can you share from the site? I guess if it were as easy as going and taking, it would be done already without the need of all of us."

Sio briefly contemplates this, "Should be entertaining, at least. Sounds like a bright sort."

She shrugs, "Not sure how useful I'll be, but you've got yourself a cook, at the very least."

At the mention of Faerun, the Countess starts very slightly.

"Lantan? Only thing I had heard about that is something about crazy technology. Long way away from Baldur's Gate, and other places I've traveled.

I agree that you'd likely have already accomplished this without us if there wasn't some sort of catch."

Hearing the mission, Dymer quickly locks eyes with Ozzie, and glances over to Nikolsi, hoping to catch the eye of the other shadow-kin in the group, whispering to Ozzie while the group mutters amongst itself and asks its questions.

"Faerun?" Rattlebones knits his eyebrows together. "Don't they have that famous wizard? The mighty powerful one... Melinda, or something?" He waves the thought away. "Anywho, aren't these folks in Lantan going to be peeved about their stuff getting yoinked? What are they and how strong are they?"

Craven lounges in his chair with a continuous bemused look on his face.
be
"Countess, it seems that we are to be used as pawns. And by the representative of the Foreseen to the Parity Council no less. How intriguing..."

"I am familiar with clockwork engineering and likely far more intelligent than this inventor. What else is known?"

The younger girl nods at the Countesses words. "Mmm, I cant imagine grabbing something like this would be too difficult-the catch is the most interesting part, please, don't leave it out." She looks around, curious as to if any of them were surprised when she dropped her disguise. "For what it's worth, infiltration is a specialty of mine. Was ah... testing my skills when I received my summons. Plenty of catches there. Again, wha is yours?"

"The catch, as it were, is that the blueprints I require and everything else within the tomb belong to the rightful heirs of Mutalib. Meaning you either need to obtain their permission to loot the tomb, or otherwise prevent them from interfering in your robbing them of their inheritance." From his tone, you can tell he does not care how you accomplish this particular task.

"The latter is always most likely, sadly."

Nikolsi catches Dymer and Ozzie's attention, having followed the earlier byplay between them. Convince some entitled rich guys to let us steal from their granddad's tomb, or sneak in and out with none the wiser? Gee, I wonder which makes the most sense... His chuckle is slightly dark as he adds I know which could be more fun, but I'd rather a quick in and out over ...persuading... the heirs to go along.

"It seems like there are quite a few of us here to send all of us on such a task, unless the place is truly enormous.

While the others that have spoken seem to prefer stealth, I find that I am very persuasive. People have a tendency to decide that their best course of action is as I please it to be."

Nephre laughs. "Both it is, then. Never been to Faerun, but it sounds like at least some of you've got some ideas."

"Some of us are neither persuasive or stealthy," Sir Morien speaks up, the man's pleasant appearance belying his grim demeanour. "But our presence in Lantan could serve both as a distraction and as a reason for the locals to forge new alliances. If all eyes are on us, then they will surely be less likely to see the lurkers, and more likely to agree to the terms of the diplomats among us. In any case, it could prove an interesting race..."

Ozzie talks out loud while thinking the situation over.
"Why would the angel need so many people, unless there was a lot of real estate to cover?"
"I've heard of liches with sprawling underground tombs. Why shouldn't a maniac crafter? They both have unlimited labor."

"Let's do it. A little blood might go a long way towards disabling his security. Let's grab some from the family."

Ozzie turned back to the celestial to ask "Are you giving us separate entrances? Or separate items to look out for? We'll need to leave quickly. Can you also point us to his blood relatives?"

Vala looks to the countess curiously "I'm not opposed to trying to con our way in. Only issue with that is if things go south, someone has seen your face, at which point violence ensues. Unless you wear that of another. Which I can also help with, should we go that route." andn considering she'd been a man with a limp only a few minutes before she clearly had the skills to back up her claim

"Rewards are well and good; I am as willing to add to my hoard as any here—maybe more. But perhaps before an infiltration is planned, we should find out more about why you want these plans in the first place and what you hope to accomplish with them," Lehkazeran interjected.

"Why are your usual resources...'unavailable'...to you? "

"His descendants, while lacking access to their patriarch's vault, have managed to become quite successful inventors, merchants, engineers and so forth. Until recently, the entrance to Mutalib's tomb was buried under the sands, but a powerful windstorm several months ago revealed it. They lack the capabilities to traverse the mausoleum themselves, but are in the process of funding a team of experienced professionals to explore the tomb and recover their birthright."

"Ah, so they could fund our group and we leave with the goods and the money."

Sia tilts her head, "Well, if that hasn't been taken up, that's our opening. We seem to have a... wide range of skills here, we could probably pass as professionals."

She leans back, absently letting a few nearby shadows stretch towards her.

Gabriel weighs the possibilities. "Alright... I'm willing to go through a talking if you guys do it. I have other skills, more akin to the infiltration plan - which we might have to rely on anyway."

"Come now Lehk, if he told us that we'd lose out on the fun of figuring it out ourselves. A better question might be, 'Once we retrieve it, what's to stop us from taking it ourselves?'. He's haggling the carrot here and has failed to state the stick."

Dr. Craven finally speaks up from his bemused silence in a playful tone, "A family of inventors and engineers. So, who built the elder Mutalib's tomb? Or better yet, who designed it?"

Noctia is musing about the situation and then asks
"Why do you need us, why not simply insert a few spies from your men into the funded expedition to the place?, Who you know will get the job more reliably than a bunch of hired rabble"

"A charismatic sort putting our case forward, defined roles for members such as "infiltration specialist" or "trap specialist" "magic countermeasures" et cetera."

"Now, now Miss Corpse, you have asked the same question as several others thus far, 'why us?'. And the answer is obviously, 'because I want to see if this works'. You see, judging by the fact that none here knew why they were here, the conclusion is that they are trying this little 'evil on a leash' thing out."

"Though this may not be the first time."

"With the simplicity and flexibility of successful avenues, it is the perfect...test, if you will. He's already told us how long the leash is. The question remains, what is it made out of? Spikes? What manner of shock therapy will he/they use?" Craven then leans forward, steepling his fingers, "Or, what's the stick?"

Salvis shrugs "The reason I'm not using my own resources is simple: you're expendable, and they are not. Your reputations proceed you, and I have confidence you'll succeed, but should you fail, I've lost nothing, other than some time. However, if you're successful, I'll not only get the blueprints, but I'll also gain a team of capable agents that I can continue to send on missions where I don't wish to waste my own resources."

"The dead don't really need money or stuff. Well, not the dead-dead kind anyway. I think this group could get it for ya. What kinda reward were you gonna add to sweeten the pot?"

Nephre grins. "He asks what I want to know."

"On second thought, tracking down the dear maniac's diary is probably more trouble than it's worth. I'm on the fence about mugging one of them for blood and fun, but I guess the two of you are right that speed is key. Dymer, have you noticed anyone else we should drag along?"

Your host arches an eyebrow at Ozzie "Which maniac's diary do you seek?" He asks simply.

"The designation, while unconfirmed, is potentially correct. Studies show correlation between driven intellectuals and mania."

Seeing as everybody seems content to continue voicing their opinions without making any actual headway, Dymer speaks up, loudly, to get the train rolling, so to speak, even going so far as to cast Flare towards the ceiling to get everybody's attention. "Okay, hold up, pause." And, seeing that he's immediately about to be interrupted There's always going to be one, somewhere :P he raises a hand between himself and the interloper and pre-interrupts, "Please hold all questions to the end. I see four avenues of approach in order of most likely to succeed, but least amount of fun: Plunder, Profession, Persuasion, and Pillage. Please raise your hands as I go over them again, if you feel that you would be best suited for one of these approaches or have a preferred method you would like to be a part of. For example, I already know that Nikolsi, Ozzie, and I would all end up raising our hands as I called out 'Plunder' as that's the method that would make best use of our skills. We can mix and match in a minute, but let's at least get a headcount of where our strengths lie before we get too sidetracked."

Dymer pauses for all of three seconds to give people time to mull things over. "Sooo, were we to go the route of in and out, undisturbed and undetected, who would join us three in 'Plan: Plunder'?"

Followed shortly by the other options.
If anybody has questions IC or OC about what the plans are:
- Plunder is what I stated, pure stealth. Most probable success route, but least amount of cause for explosions or other, similar styles of fun. Only really need a way to gather information about the place so we have a plan that is more than simply 'get in, get out'.
- Profession goes along with a comment someone made earlier about making our own band of explorers and try to get hired on with the excavation team. Legitimizing our reason to be there, but we'd need a way to make sure any background check isn't looked into too deeply when we get hired.
- Persuasion was mentioned by somebody else, kind of sarcastically where we try to buy or bribe our way into the tomb or into the area where all of the valuables are going to be stored during the appraisal/marketing/storage of what's found inside. Or wait until it's all done and try to buy the blueprints from whichever of the living family members ends up with it.
- Pillage is get in by knocking down the front door, causing all sorts of mayhem along the way, such as so much damage, and so much stolen property that the true purpose of the outing is obscured by the smoke and dust of the wreckage. The major downside to this is that once it starts, you either win or you die.