[5e] Courts of the Shadow Fey

Game Master mishima


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Tracker Sheet

The theater was drafty, its audience too sparse to warm it up proper. Sparser than expected for the popular acting troupe Legacy Chimera, but it was off season after all. The building was showing its age, the darkly stained wooden rafters stabbed all over with nails both rusty and shiny.

Old dogs of the city knew this place was better cared for under the priests of Khors and their temple of Svarog next door, when it was used for their large congregations. But Khors was fading as Rava rose in Zobeck, and not many were flocking to the shrine these days. It was not a secret the priests finally sold the building in financial stress to new purpose.

Still, under the new tenents, the ale and hot ciders were flowing, and the VIP boxes were filled with the colored smokes of every leaf and crystal save sinister Requiem, perhaps. Socialites might recognize an Armanac or Zeerghast there with the not so obvious courtier and guild-master.

Elsewhere in the copper benches a 30 stone behemoth of a man was having quite a bit of trouble lifting himself to allow a woman with crying child past...much to the chagrin of those around her.

The first act was dangerously political, but the cutting words were wrapped in such tight wit only the most clever could sense it. As intermission came, the audience was quite content to mostly stay seated and chat away the time, knowing the bitter cold waiting outside.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

Hiding in the shadows, Lexi watched her charge.

The young woman behaved in the stereotypical manner for someone of her position: a wanna-be noble. She gasped aloud while secretly smiling at the political jokes, and applauded at the appropriate points as expected for her station.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

For her part, Lexi found the whole thing to be....boring.

Maybe if she was born into the upper class she would "get it", but she was not and thus the show itself did not interest her.

Further, Lexi's attention was torn between the young woman she was guarding and the area she was in. Her mentor would have accepted nothing less while on the job.


Wounds (0) HP (75) AC (20) Saves (6/-1/6/2/1/0) lvl1 (3/4) lvl2 (0/2)

Hrungnir sat in the audience, a bulky figure under a heavy cloak. The dwarf was fully armored, though it was, for the most part, covered. Not that he had gotten into any problems for it just yet, for he was unarmed. For those who did get a glimpse of the dark metal, they would see that it was covered in runic script, a mixture of his own people’s language and that of the Sylvan folk. It was an ode to his love, to his obsession. To the fey goddess which had led him to abandon clan and hearth, and to journey to a strange land. The political message of the play was completely lost to him. He could speak the trade tongue, but that was where his knowledge ended. He didn’t know who was in charge of the city, nor who wanted to be. All he knew was that he was where he had to be, even if he didn’t know why. All he could do was keep his eyes and ears open.

The first act was over, and all he understood was that it had kept him out of the cold. So he watched the audience, seeing if there was anyone there that stood out from the common folk. This land was as rich in it’s variety of people as it was in the variety of coin that flowed through it. People watching was as an interesting way to pass the time.


Dhampir Knight Incoporeal | HP: 54/62 | HD 0/7 | Thirst 0/2 | Charm 1/1 | Wind 1/1 | Surge 1/1| Inspiration Yes!
Stats:
AC 19 | Str +6 Dex +0(+2) Con +5 Int +0 Wis +0 Cha +2 | Initiative +0 | Passive Perception 13, Darkvision

Behind the colored smoke obscuring a VIP box sits a noble dhampir with alabaster skin and jet black hair pulled back in a fashionable short tail, who is quite comfortable in the cool temperature of the theater. He wears an elegant tabard emblazoned gules, a skull argent that is decorated to announce his status as a noble within the Order of Knights Incorporeal over splint armor which tapers to fit his slim build. His knight's weapon’s belt carries a longsword and two handaxes.

Carnadine absorbs the political cutting words to understand where an edge of the mob's opinion was and to collect content for witty banter at his next cocktail party. From his vantage in his addition to paying attention to the stage, he surveys the theater watching the audience as part of the evening's entertainment.


Tracker Sheet

A pompously decorated youth in Carnadine's box, drunk and/or otherwise intoxicated, spotted Lexi's charge in the neighboring pod with a pair of brass opera binoculars, and started to shout much too loud to be proper "Oh ho ho! What's this...? A fellow youth forced to grace the Six Lanterns without escort?? Fear not, for its something we can surely remedy? Come, join us for the second act..." he is leaning so far over the rail with the opera glass pressed so deep into his face its a wonder he doesn't plummet to the ground.

Lexi's charge for her part pretends not to hear at first, but soon the smile breaking her face is undeniable and she rises to unlock the private box and make her way to the others.

--------

From Hrungnir's vantage on the floor benches, looking up into the catwalks over the stage with his dwarven eyes, he begins to see a deep blue line begin to form vertically. It promptly splits into two parallel lines which widen apart and a humanoid figure appears from the mist between. Running across the catwalk no more than a few steps, it departs using the same curious instantaneous door.

Arcana 19:

You've seen and read about these wizard portals before, an old manner of transport whose secrets are not wholly lost to those studious enough. Why one of the Legacy Chimera might employ one for stagecraft escapes you.

A little boy with popcorn is coming your way, offering you a big buttered bag for a copper.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

From the shadowy corner comes what is, for all intents and purposes, a disembodied voice. A voice loud enough to be heard within the confines of the small box, but those standing just outside the door to her box would be hard pressed to make out the words: "Sit. Down."


Wounds (0) HP (75) AC (20) Saves (6/-1/6/2/1/0) lvl1 (3/4) lvl2 (0/2)

Arcana: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Hrungnir sat straighter as his eyes widened. He had seen and read about these wizard portals before, an old manner of transport whose secrets are not wholly lost to those studious enough. Why one of the Legacy Chimera might employ one for stagecraft escapee him. But it spoke to those running the show having a plethora of magical ability, which ran far beyond mere stagecraft and all the way into the academic. Maybe this was why he was here? His goddess had said to come to the Faire, and by chance he had witnessed this. Maybe it wasn’t chance after all. He watched with great attention to see what would happen next.


Tracker Sheet

"Y-your fluffed kernels, ser-oWW!" the little boy who was offering you the popcorn gets struck hard on the back of the head with a cracked, old bench splinter.

A few rows up, an angry dwarf who looks actually quite Hrungnir-like is gesturing to the boy "That's me treat ye promised, dolt. That other one..." he makes a confused exasperated sound "*hrung* ...them arms..." he seems to be trying to get a better look at your armor and failing "...well a fellow Northlands kin fer sure but the beard's a hand shorter, ye cannae see?" The kid scoops up the half spilled bag and hurries to the other dwarf.


Wounds (0) HP (75) AC (20) Saves (6/-1/6/2/1/0) lvl1 (3/4) lvl2 (0/2)

Hrungnir looked at his kinsman with an almost annoyed expression. The last thing he needed was a distraction. What if this was the reason he was supposed to be here?

As the dwarf came, Hrungnir lifted a gauntled hand...showing the runes upon it. To those of the north, it was usually enough to show that he had rune knowledge. It was an art which usually carried a measure of respect to it’s practioners. With his eyes still firmly fixed on the arcane spectacle, he said, formally:

Dwarven”Honor to you and your clan. I do not wish to be rude, but there is more on the stage than mere flippant social mockery. At least one of them is a powerful mage. Though as to what purpose he works the arcane arts I do not know.”

Persuasion to be polite enough while focusing on the stage: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14


HP 29/29 | AC 15 | Acr +4 Dec +7 Ins +7 Int +5 Inv +1 Perc +2 Perf +7 Pers +10 Stea +6 | Saves: S -1, D* +6, C +0, I +0, W +1, Ch* +7; Imm Disease Poison (dam and cond) | Init +3 | PPerc 12; PInv 11; PIns 17 | Spd 30' | Insp: Yes! | HD 7/7 | Status: Normal | Spell slots: 4 3 3 1 | BrdIns 4x d8

Before

"Fz-Fz-Fz! Good one..." chuckles Deimus softly, his laugh like a metallic vibration as he appreciates the intricate mix of wit and political astuteness.

Turning to his right to share his amusement, he sees nothing but empty seats until this impressive Dwarf, likely a Northerner.

He had bought the best seats money could buy, but his clutch mates were still... uneasy at him. He too, for that matter. His whole body felt strange to him, yet familiar. He was, and always had been, a tinkerer after all.

He hadn't bought seats in the boxes, for those were discreet, and discretion was not his goal. No, Zobeck needed to know, to see, that Old Deimus was walking this realm, returned and ready to take on the cause again.

Except that he felt alone. Things were never the same without your clutch. I should not have come without them... A Kobold is his clutch, he reminded himself.

Thankfully, mayhem erupted in the direction of the Dwarf and pulled Deimus out of his melancholy. He turned to see if there was trouble, but couldn't make what he was saying.


character sheet

Standing at the theater's sole ale stand (next to the stand selling wine from Morgau) was a dwarf of unusually good cheer. Kjeta wore a loose tunic with the symbol of Ninkash--the Mother of Ales--on it Her red hair fell in two long braids.

She took a big slug from her own tankard as the first act ended, knowing that folks were about to queue up for a taste of her ale.

She turned to Acolyte Brumdal, who was assisting her in brewing and selling her wares. "Heads up! Here come the crowds!" and then hollered to the crowd, "Come on up and taste the Good Brews!"

She smiled (knowing that the reputation of her handiwork was growing quickly in Zobeck) and watched as folks approached.


CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

Raseri sighs as she hears the click of the lock on the door. It seems that her employer, one Marchante Leoniel, had been right to be worried over his daughter's foolhardiness. He'd mentioned she'd be joining another guard, but it appeared that she was alone.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

A part of her, the part of her that sometimes made itself known and made sure that others knew she was a Northlander and proud of her heritage, longed to find or even start a good brawl. The more reasonable part of her knows that looking for trouble while in mail with helm and gauntlets decorated with runes proclaiming the might and valor of Thor and carrying a engraved hammer nearly as tall as she was with no less than four other weapons on her person was bound to end poorly. So she waits and silently curses her missing partner. She smirks as an usher hurries on by, giving the stoic woman a double take as he scurries about his duties. Her employer had told her to look like she meant business. She doubted he meant for her to show up arrayed for battle with the symbols of Volund, Sif, and most prominently, Thor glittering over polished mail. The appointment had been very much at the last moment, and she hadn't arrived before the start of the first act, by which time the box was locked. Another smile spread across her face as she pulls out the thick, folded parchment with the stamp of her employer's seal on it and opens the door.

"Miss Leoniel," she asks in a pleasantly lilting accent, "I am Raseri Whitescale. Your father sent me to make sure that you are well and safe and remain so."

She holds out the parchment for the young lady to read while trying not to laugh at the look on the girl's face.

I hope I'm not stepping on your toes here Lexi, but I figured this might be a good way to get our characters introduced before Act 2 starts. :P


Dhampir Knight Incoporeal | HP: 54/62 | HD 0/7 | Thirst 0/2 | Charm 1/1 | Wind 1/1 | Surge 1/1| Inspiration Yes!
Stats:
AC 19 | Str +6 Dex +0(+2) Con +5 Int +0 Wis +0 Cha +2 | Initiative +0 | Passive Perception 13, Darkvision

Carnadine arches his eyebrow at the drunkard. It takes all of his willpower to not push him out of box. If he didn't need the poor sod to advance his father's business, he would find anything better to do.

He stands up and exits the box for intermission. He slowly meanders.


Tracker Sheet

Upper Class

Lexi's charge startled at the disembodied voice, her excitement of being noticed by the boy quickly turning to confusion. She slowly reached out a hand in the darkness towards where a face should be "Wh-what...how did you get in my box..." She was asking herself as much as Lexi. The 17th daughter had come into the box prudely attired, but now was looking much more comfortable.

Raseri's knock and followup intrusion was equally startling, she grasped the parchment with a dumb look on her face barely reading it.

But the look soon turned to anger "...my father? My father. Well take a good look, you can see I am safe and will remain so. Now run along and tell him the good news."

Carnadine was close enough to the cat-caller to make out some muffled jabs with his friends, mostly bragging about sure-fire young and unlocked portcullises to come.

Out in the hall, you recognize a few faces from the regular circles, no one you much care to engage with. You do however see something appealing to your more...base...nature. A very slim girl, pale from drink perhaps, slouched next to a potted plant. She is cupping her hands to her ears as if the noise is disturbing her. Though you certainly have no reason to feed, your ancestral instinct of thirst is throbbing...blood lust for this weakened prey.


Tracker Sheet

Lower class

Hrungnir could tell by the look of apprehension on the Northlands dwarf that his mystic status was recognized. He fixed his posture and gave a more formal sounding response in Dwarven "Bright forge, smithy. I don't know much of these Legless Stamina or whate'er they're called...ale's cheaper here than the Broken Seal. If there's magic about it ain't of the beguiling kind...I feel no hex upon me, and me urges are what they should be."

For Deimus, it was hard to spot other kobolds here in the Six Lanterns; perhaps that was a pair of Duskscales sharing a cloak near the Ninkash trader. Gearforged on the other hand were no strange sight in the Clockwork City, their just-above-a-whisper tickings were coming in from all around. Mechanisms could change the direction and magnitude of forces, but it was harder to change your feelings of brotherhood.

Compared to Kjeta, Acolyte Brumdal was much less enthusiastic in his duty. The poor lad had taken the devoted on a 3 night bender recently, and his eyes were blood shot. Lucky he was of mind to keep a spare service robe, for his previous rag held the telling mixture of vomit and brew of the novice. "Eh...do you have to shout so loud? Look at them flocking already...a sign would do at this point..." He slammed the remnants of his hangover cure for all the good it was doing "...and praise be to Ninkash for an early sell out. That music is twisting me nerve something awful."


Tracker Sheet

Everyone take inspiration for the good first posts, I can definitely feel you all in the world. Things will pick up fairly soon, try to nail down some crunch (at least a first draft).


CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

"Ah, should I also tell of your soothsaying, Miss Leoniel," Raseri teases, her smirk turning into a grin as she took back the parchment lest something untoward happen to it. "Alas, I am afraid that my gild-oath was to your father, not to you. He has bade me to stay by your side, so by your side I remain. Had he a little more of your foresight, mayhap he would see there is no need of my shield arm or mayhap he would have come to me before the hour this play was to begin."

Raseri beams at the young woman, confident in her skill and certain she can deal with any unpleasantness this one could dish out. She looks a year or two younger than her charge, but she isn't worried. This isn't the first time she's dealt with angry scions of the wealthy and powerful. She notes the rising color in Miss Leoniel's face and schools her expression into one of passive neutrality when all she really wanted to do was to laugh in the woman's face for thinking her so easily shaken.

"I can hear the battle drums and horn calling from here," she says coolly, "mayhap you should sit and smother the flames of ire, lest your temper be lost and you snap and shatter like brittle iron from a poor smith's forge. The crowd herdsmen have seen the runes and know that I am allowed. To sulk, bellow, and gnash your teeth as a drunken troll would only annoy me and embarrass you. There is still more to this night. Enjoy the performers and know that you have nothing to fear."

She closes the door and locks it before looking around and scowling.

"Mayhap you can tell me where the first of your life-shields hides? I have not seen one that would be as such. Mayhap their absence is proof your father should worry," she says, her voice taking on a slightly harder edge at her last sentence, though in truth she is more annoyed with the absent guard being absent than worried some fell fate came upon them.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

Lexi did not let the woman touch her. Instead, she slid off to the side slightly and followed up with "Sit down or I'll sit you down." This time, much more menace in her voice then before.

It wouldn't let me roll my intimidation roll =(


HP 29/29 | AC 15 | Acr +4 Dec +7 Ins +7 Int +5 Inv +1 Perc +2 Perf +7 Pers +10 Stea +6 | Saves: S -1, D* +6, C +0, I +0, W +1, Ch* +7; Imm Disease Poison (dam and cond) | Init +3 | PPerc 12; PInv 11; PIns 17 | Spd 30' | Insp: Yes! | HD 7/7 | Status: Normal | Spell slots: 4 3 3 1 | BrdIns 4x d8

Dwarves are so loud... Deimus thinks to himself.

He ignores them at first, then tries to, then fails. The empty seats beside him and the absence of Kobolds... Plus no one recognized him! He had lost years of work, and who knows what other folks thought of Gearforged. He never trusted them, if that's any indication.

How could you trust a tool, unless you made it your self!?

Finally, the dark thoughts are too much and he loses it. His head swivels towards the nearest Dwarf and he says: "Tzk! If the witz is not to your taste, or to your capacity, perhapz you can take your conversation outside? I hear the wind is quite fresh tonight..."

He fights the urge to add some spice to his words, not sure how the Dwarf's runes would interfere with his spell.

Nice armour, that's for sure!


CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

"And who is it that commands that I or she sits," Raseri asks the voice, her hands now both on the maul, ready to bring it to bear as she shifts to put herself between Miss Leoniel and the disembodied voice. "Be you ghost or spirit or some mortal?"


Wounds (0) HP (75) AC (20) Saves (6/-1/6/2/1/0) lvl1 (3/4) lvl2 (0/2)

Hrungnir slowly rose, glaring at the gearforged. Anger built inside of him. Distractions! Everywhere distractions! Honor-based necessities, calls for ale, and now someone demanding that he leave. At any moment his one true love might appear and he could miss it over such mundane concerns. He resisted the urge to call his hammer and shield. It wouldn’t be productive.

”I paid my bloody entrance fee.” He growled. ”If ye want to enjoy the weather, then do so yerself. Now leave me! There is a wizard working the stage who opened a portal. An old manner of transport lost to all but the most studious. There is the trace of the Legacy of the Chimera here, and I will not miss it!”

His annoyance finally bubbled through, his even speech breaking. Though with the anger there was a hint desperation. He quickly turned his attention back to the stage, looking for any trace of the spell he had seen earlier.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

"Someone who wants to make sure she isn't raped and left for dead in an alley, or have you not been paying attention?"


HP 29/29 | AC 15 | Acr +4 Dec +7 Ins +7 Int +5 Inv +1 Perc +2 Perf +7 Pers +10 Stea +6 | Saves: S -1, D* +6, C +0, I +0, W +1, Ch* +7; Imm Disease Poison (dam and cond) | Init +3 | PPerc 12; PInv 11; PIns 17 | Spd 30' | Insp: Yes! | HD 7/7 | Status: Normal | Spell slots: 4 3 3 1 | BrdIns 4x d8
Hrungnir wrote:

Hrungnir slowly rose, glaring at the gearforged. Anger built inside of him. Distractions! Everywhere distractions! Honor-based necessities, calls for ale, and now someone demanding that he leave. At any moment his one true love might appear and he could miss it over such mundane concerns. He resisted the urge to call his hammer and shield. It wouldn’t be productive.

”I paid my bloody entrance fee.” He growled. ”If ye want to enjoy the weather, then do so yerself. Now leave me! There is a wizard working the stage who opened a portal. An old manner of transport lost to all but the most studious. There is the trace of the Legacy of the Chimera here, and I will not miss it!”

His annoyance finally bubbled through, his even speech breaking. Though with the anger there was a hint desperation. He quickly turned his attention back to the stage, looking for any trace of the spell he had seen earlier.

"Fzine, then stop talking and enjoy the show..." Deimus replies calmly, then turns his attention to the stage, looking for the portal the Dwarf had just alluded to.

Magic, real magic, on stage?! Could it be? That Dwarf has had too much to drink. All Dwarves do, really...

And thus Deimus studies the stage with renewed concentration, his fingers flickering under his cloak.

Casting Detect Magic.


Dhampir Knight Incoporeal | HP: 54/62 | HD 0/7 | Thirst 0/2 | Charm 1/1 | Wind 1/1 | Surge 1/1| Inspiration Yes!
Stats:
AC 19 | Str +6 Dex +0(+2) Con +5 Int +0 Wis +0 Cha +2 | Initiative +0 | Passive Perception 13, Darkvision

Carnadine avails himself of a cocktail and surreptitiously watches potential prey: the very slim pale girl. He makes small talk with other upper class in the hall listening and gathering information.
Insight (the very slim pale girl): 1d20 ⇒ 6
Persuasion (gather information): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14


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Tracker Sheet

Upper

The Leoniel girl's youthful stupidity was blossoming full force "I am...so...sick of people like you. Zobeck is a free city-state but here's a fighter and a ghost willing to buy my freedom sold from my father for what...5...10 gold? No really, what did it cost to buy my freedom??" her eyes water exasperated, the mention of rape not helping.

The eager boy across the pod is taking it in stride, still spying through his glasses "Come now...who's that then? A friend? I have friends, too..."

Carnadine enjoys some high class refreshment, quickly dismissing the pale girl as another clueless noble whose narcotics money quickly dwarfed tolerance. He does over hear a bit of heated dish between the Armanac and Zeerghast "...no, I'm telling you. The deal was over before it started. That councilman simply does not function any longer." the Armanac was saying.

"...how can that be. Totally outside precedent. Councilship is guaranteed 5 years, no one has the authority to change that. No one." the Zeerghast replies forcefully.

"No, you don't get it...not dead, not gone. Of a different mind." he rubs his fingers together rubbing coin "Someone more powerful than us has gotten to him, has to be..."


Tracker Sheet

Lower

Hrungnir, to clarify, Legacy Chimera is the name of the group of actors putting on the show.

Deimus must get very close to the stage for the indicated catwalk above to be within range of his divinations, but slowly the ley lines dissolve from a tangled mess and spell out a cryptographic cipher to his third eye...it is hard to crack he realizes because the person or object that generated the aura is already long gone. But enough of the lingering energies remain to note note they are typically classified as conjuration patterns.

Another audience member donates his two coppers to the situation "I thought Legacy was supposed to do comedy. Nothing funny about magic...I didn't pay my durned coin to get tricked. F&++ this." and leaves, a cold blast of air quickly storming through the door as he goes.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

"Your father paid me to insure that you are neither assaulted nor murdered. You clearly know nothing of the real world, because you are too stupid to open your eyes and look around. Think child: what does that man wants from you exactly? To hold you tightly? to make you his wife?"

Lexi's voice gets ever so slightly louder, and she makes a terrible mistake: her concentration slips, and she becomes visible.

"No, he means to use you, then throw you away. It is all the worth that men see in women."

Dark hair tied in a bun is offset by almost white skin. Her eyes were blue as the water in an undisturbed northlands lake.

Dark leather armor and covers her small form, which rose not much more than five feet in height. A short hooded cloak that appeared to be made of darkness itself rounded out her appearance. She did not appear armed, and indeed did not even appear to be an adult; were one to guess at her age, none would guess older than sixteen.

Realizing her mistake, she quickly disappeared from view once again.

Having cased the joint before they showed up, is there a pathway that leads through darkness that I can use to reach the man's box?


Dhampir Knight Incoporeal | HP: 54/62 | HD 0/7 | Thirst 0/2 | Charm 1/1 | Wind 1/1 | Surge 1/1| Inspiration Yes!
Stats:
AC 19 | Str +6 Dex +0(+2) Con +5 Int +0 Wis +0 Cha +2 | Initiative +0 | Passive Perception 13, Darkvision

@GM Can you point me to the pages, so I can better understand the story that you're alluding to? Like, who is an Armanac and Zeerghast? Thanks


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CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

Apologies if this is a little much, but it's mostly for flavor. Special effects provided by ThorThaum, for all your divinely inspired theatrical needs.

"So you are my erstwhile sister in guarding this one," Raseri begins to say, relaxing a little until the Leoniel girl opens her mouth. Stunned by the accusation and then the sudden appearance of the ghostly girl, It takes Raseri a moment to gather her thoughts enough to speak. The boy is the first to draw her rising ire.

"Þruma gnýr og talar við mig og segir mér sögur skelfilegar og hraustar. Það syngur í sál minni og blóði mínu."

Northern Tongue:

"Thunder rumbles and speaks to me, telling me of tales dire and valorous. It sings in my soul and my blood."

She lays a baleful gaze on the boy, her eyes flickering and glowing like bolts of lightning as many-layered whispers sound next to his ear in Sylvan, Trade, and Northern tongues.

"Be silent fool, lest you find ravens plucking out your tongue and eyes."

Intimidate (The poor sod who has no idea what he's just blundered into): 1d20 ⇒ 5 Well, can't blame me for trying.

That done, she turns her gaze on the girl and looms over her as the shadows swirl around her like thunderheads and the floor of the box shudders slightly as thunder rumbles in the distance. Raseri's eyes become like twin orbs of baleful, blue-white fire as the runes on Thor's hammer about her neck blaze like bolts of lightning in miniature.

"Do not speak so lightly of things you cannot know," she growls. "Do not speak to me of thralldom and slavery. Your father paid for my services, and I gave my oath, gave my word of honor, that you would return to his home alive and well, even if I were only able to do so by leading you crawling on my hands and knees like a cur while I paid the warrior's toll."

She let the words sink in. The shadows calm and the rumbling ceases as her eyes return to their ice-blue hue. What few memories she has of her childhood burn in her mind. The hard labor, the beatings, those silver eyes, and the maddening cackle all come back vividly.

She sighs, looking to where Lexi had been, and hoped that the other woman understood at least.

"Do not be so quick to pay those that would spill the red-water of their life for you with insults. You may find one of their daggers in your back," she says more calmly now, the bout of rage passing. "Mayhap you will learn many things this night if you are wise enough to open your ears and listen."


Tracker Sheet

Lexi, its mostly bright/dim lit gas sconces (controllable from backstage) rather than darkness...perhaps you disabled a sconce in just the right location to give you a path to an exit that cuts near the other box. You could roll dex stealth to do it silently.

The charge steals a glance at Lexi as long as she can, before the rogue protector mysteriously steps back into the dark corner "I take it that's why you choose to remain unseen? Hmph. Maybe some girls get walked on like that. Not me... Fine are you two going to shackle me as well? Honestly how can I possibly enjoy myself now..." she grumbles, more hypothetically than anything.

Oblivious, the pomp with the braggadocio continues "I promise you a night you will never forget. What say we abandon these yesterday's catchphrases for some...more creative wordplay? Oooh...I see. She's soured." indeed, the mood has drained from the 17th daughter quite completely.

edit: enter Ras...

"..." the boy shuts up tight for a moment, trying to discern this whisper speak about maven's clucking. "I say...did anyone else hear that thunderous sound??" he gazes all around in his brass opera glasses, trying to discern the source. If not shutup, at least his attention is deflected for a moment.

At the latest words the girl does finally sit down "Wonderful. I'm ready for my education..." she says sarcastically.


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Tracker Sheet

Carnadine, those are the family names for 2 of the many influential families of Zobeck. There are a few paragraph blurbs in the Gazetteer, but the plot is my own. Basically, the Armanacs have monopolized shipping while the Zeerghasts are a much older family with ties to the Arcane Collegium. Apparently, some kind of under the table business arrangement with the City Council has become impossible, causing a loss for both houses. This is the first you've heard of it.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

I'll hold off for now, but will go and "speak" to the boy if he persists.


CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

"Do you often goad wild bears, Miss Leoniel? I hear that is safer than angering one of Thor's priests," Raseri says, lightning flickering in her eyes again.

Oh good, maybe Lexi can help Miss Leoniel understand that you do not want to piss off the Northlander.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

Oh no....you're doing fine....I couldn't possibly....=D

Lexi will lean over and whisper something into the young lady's ear.

Whisper, Whisper:

"If you don't shut your mouth now, I'll let the woman standing behind you beat you to death with her hammer. Your silence insures your life."


Tracker Sheet

Miss Leonial turns to the pair of guardians, clearly about to burst out either screaming or crying but just as she opens her mouth the crowd goes eerily silent, and she pauses awkwardly glancing behind...

A vertical blue line, similar to the one only Hrungnir spied earlier, now forms in the middle of the audience. It separates into 2 parallel lines, and a form stirs within the gap...

Suddenly leaping, as if from another world, a canine matching the size of a destrier bursts into view...nearly toppling the popcorn loving dwarf. It has a smooth pelt oozing inky darkness but striped with splotchy blue bio-luminescence, its head sports 2 antennae-like structures each the size of a normal lab's tail. Something like a giant greyhound with those unique features.

Far from unkempt, this beast seems as if it has a team of the world's best animal handlers caring day and night for its every need: substantive and cosmetic. It wears a collar of jewels and gold and its posture hints of the best training.

The crowd collectively cowers and gasps, uncertain.

The beast whimpers sadly and sniffs at the air.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

Whispering, Lexi says "We need to get her out of here. Now. You're closer to the door, so lead her out and down to the lobby and I'll bring up the rear." followed by the whisper quiet sound of blades clearing scabbards.


Dhampir Knight Incoporeal | HP: 54/62 | HD 0/7 | Thirst 0/2 | Charm 1/1 | Wind 1/1 | Surge 1/1| Inspiration Yes!
Stats:
AC 19 | Str +6 Dex +0(+2) Con +5 Int +0 Wis +0 Cha +2 | Initiative +0 | Passive Perception 13, Darkvision

Thanks. I don’t have the gazetteer. Only MMH and world book. If the dog horse popped out in the audience. What can Carnadine react to? I presume he’s out in the hall on the second floor behind the VIP boxes which look out over the audience.


HP 29/29 | AC 15 | Acr +4 Dec +7 Ins +7 Int +5 Inv +1 Perc +2 Perf +7 Pers +10 Stea +6 | Saves: S -1, D* +6, C +0, I +0, W +1, Ch* +7; Imm Disease Poison (dam and cond) | Init +3 | PPerc 12; PInv 11; PIns 17 | Spd 30' | Insp: Yes! | HD 7/7 | Status: Normal | Spell slots: 4 3 3 1 | BrdIns 4x d8

"Whaaaaaaz...?" mumbles Deimus as he spots the dog, he tries to maintain his concentration on the spell, though he is more interested in watching how the actors react. He feels the dof may not be part of the plot, but who knows with the Chimera, right?

Insight: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27


CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

Raseri nods and whispers back as she unlocks the door, "Watch our backs. I shall make sure the way is clear."

The northlander woman steps forward and puts a hand on the woman's shoulder and leans down to whisper in her ear.

"Past time for us to be gone. We shall make sure you return home safely," Raseri tells the girl before hauling her to her feet and half dragging her through the door.

"Follow me and do as I say when I say. I am here to protect you. I shall not harm you or let you be harmed," she says once they are out of the box. The northlander gives the girl little choice in the first matter as she drags her behind. "Shadow, if that beast comes after us, you shall lead our charge home while I keep it at bay."

Perception (Looking for danger aimed her charge's way.): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12


Tracker Sheet

some brief work posts

Carnadine

Gasps from the audience are heard and some of the hall loungers peek back out "I thought this was supposed to be a comedy, not a circus...good lord, look at the size of that!"

Ras/Lex

Your charge doesn't need to be told twice, any resistance melting to a feather in your hands. The boy's attention is now on the great dog, getting all the juicy details with his glasses "I say...what are those things coming out of her nose? Ice crystals...?"

Deimus

Some of the actors are peeking out at the commotion from backstage... scanning the configurations of their faces, you decide this is indeed an unplanned intrusion. The magical screen piercing reality slowly shifts and adjusts, and you once again note the delicate symbols and inversions associated with conjuration.


Wounds (0) HP (75) AC (20) Saves (6/-1/6/2/1/0) lvl1 (3/4) lvl2 (0/2)

Sylvan:
”Native of the third world, can you understand me?”
Hrungnir said, rising to his feet.

Umbral:
”Or can you understand this tongue?” He added.

Persuasion: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

The dwarf approached, his body language and tone of voice showing no fear. To the contrary, he approached in a way that expressed friendly intentions. Slowly enough to not startle an animal, fast enough not to offend an intelligent fey.

What Knowledge to know more of it?


HP 29/29 | AC 15 | Acr +4 Dec +7 Ins +7 Int +5 Inv +1 Perc +2 Perf +7 Pers +10 Stea +6 | Saves: S -1, D* +6, C +0, I +0, W +1, Ch* +7; Imm Disease Poison (dam and cond) | Init +3 | PPerc 12; PInv 11; PIns 17 | Spd 30' | Insp: Yes! | HD 7/7 | Status: Normal | Spell slots: 4 3 3 1 | BrdIns 4x d8

Deimus fidgets, realizing something else than a play had been planned on this night, but by whom, and to what ends, and what to expect from a hound this size but violence.

Seeing the loud Dwarf approach, fearless, Deimus is relieved and decides to see him as the clostest thing to an ally on this night: "Northlandzer! You seem to have tzhings well in hand. May your godzs smile upon your fate on this night!"

Bardic Inspiration on Hrungnir: +1d8 on a d20 roll in the next 10 minutes. Can be decided after the roll.


Tracker Sheet

You could do arcana if you like. If you want to actually calm or do something with it roll animal handling.

The hound bears its teeth but seems more frightened than anything. It ignores Hrungnir at first but when he switches to Umbral something flashes across the dark creatures face and it cocks its head curiously.

Another magical line appears next to the creature and begins to slowly open...


CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

Hearing the lad exclaim something about ice crystals as she leads her charge from the private box, Raseri breaks into a jog and feels a pang of fear she didn't quite understand. The air around her grew more chill as fear crept up and down her spine.

"Please tell me you are not wearing those ridiculous heel-stilts under your dress," Raseri begs as her pace quickens, stress bringing out her accent more than usual. "A well-kempt fey hound that can breath life-stealing frost is not what I would call a good omen. You need to be ready to fly like a hind through the woods," she warns as she bulls past some of the startled theatre-goers. One hand holds her maul while the other pulls the Leoniel girl behind.


Wounds (0) HP (75) AC (20) Saves (6/-1/6/2/1/0) lvl1 (3/4) lvl2 (0/2)

Arcana: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Handle Animal: Every good boy likes being petted and behind the ear scratches: 1d20 ⇒ 15


Tracker Sheet

Hrungnir, through your budding research of the shadow fey you've come across such hounds of the night. Groomed for sport by the upper class, they are champions of breeding respected by all...though some employ them for darker purposes, such as war or assassination.

The hound allows the briefest touch before...but it sniffs your neck and retracts quickly. A friend you may be but no master, to its thinking. You can feel a cold to rival the North on its breath as its dual antennae swat at your forehead. "Woof." it states authoritatively before leaping through the now open portal.

You could do some kind of reaction if you want.

Hrungnir feels a wave of energy wash over him from the gearforged's words, a hidden melody behind them carrying some mote of magic perhaps...you feel suddenly as if you could do anything.

Just before it vanishes into the misty blue door, it snatches the other dwarf's popcorn with a casual chomp...nearly taking the whole hand. "Durn!"


Tracker Sheet

Let's go ahead and name the girl 'Elegyn' for convenience.

Upstairs Elegyn acquiesces to Raseri's commands, slipping off her heels and padding barefoot along the cold marble. "W-what was that thing? A fey hound you say...y-you've dealt with them before? Wait. What about everybody else?! You're just going to leave them?"


CG Female Human(Variant) Cleric(Tempest Domain) 7 HP: 26/26 | AC: 10 | Saves: STR +3 DEX 0 CON +1 INT 0 WIS* +5 CHA* +3 | Perception: +5, Investigate: 0, Insight: +5 | Channel Divinity: 1/2 | Spells: 1st 0/4, 2nd 0/3, 3rd 0/3, 4th 0/1| Arrows: 20, Inspiration: 1, Status: Dying, again.

"In a manner of speaking," Raseri answers, not really wanting to explain how fuzzy her memories from more than six years ago are fuzzy. "If everyone else has any sense at all, they'll leave. I swore an oath to see you safely home and I will honor it or die trying," she explains as she hustles down the hall towards the exit, "so yes, I am just going to leave them because defending them might cause harm to you."

It was cold, and she hated herself for it, but she could no more break her oath and dishonor herself than she could stop the wind or put out the sun. Her armor jingled with each step as she ran with Elegyn in tow.

She only hoped that no one could see the pain on her face as she left who knows how many others to possibly die.


HP: 43 (55) | AC: 17/18 | Saves: Str: +0; Dex: +7; Con: +2; Int: +3; Wis: +2; Cha: +0 | Initiative: +6 | Passive Perception: 18; Passive Insight: 15; Passive Investigation: 10 | Inspiration: [X] | Spells/Day: 1 (3)

"No, we're going to make sure you are safe. That is the job that we were hired for; you know, the one you were just mocking?" As Lexi brings up the rear, her head is moving back and forth quickly: not in fear, but in a practiced search for ambushes. Gone were all traces of vulnerability she had shown practically moments before; now, steel shone in her eyes.

Hustling the woman down the hallway, Lexi said "Here's what is going to happen: We're going to go down stairs, out the front doors, and put her in her carriage. We're going to move quietly, quickly, and without stress. We're going to move anyone in our way out of our way, and we are not going to be nice about it."

Looking at the Thor worshipper, she added "Then once that is done, we can see about helping other people out of harms way. By the by, I assume that you call down divine miracles? How powerful are you?"


HP 29/29 | AC 15 | Acr +4 Dec +7 Ins +7 Int +5 Inv +1 Perc +2 Perf +7 Pers +10 Stea +6 | Saves: S -1, D* +6, C +0, I +0, W +1, Ch* +7; Imm Disease Poison (dam and cond) | Init +3 | PPerc 12; PInv 11; PIns 17 | Spd 30' | Insp: Yes! | HD 7/7 | Status: Normal | Spell slots: 4 3 3 1 | BrdIns 4x d8

Down in the theater, Deimus stares pensively at the stage. The sight of popcorn being greedily swallowed would normally have brought a pang of melancholy, as he used to enjoy the taste, but now, his thoughts were completely elsewhere.

He turns to the Dwarf: "You know this kind of dog?" he asks.

What is the rest of the crowd doing?

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