To put it simply; Longacre is a shithole. No one wants to be here. But everyone who is here has to be here. Many are simply not intelligent enough or able to bend their morals enough to live out of the sight of the law in a place like Westcrown. Others are unable to give in to the reality that Cheliax belongs to Asmodeus, belongs to the House of Thrune, and belongs to the rule of Law and no other. So they come here, to forget or to be forgotten. This suits many just fine, afterall here they can do little damage. Here, surrounded by forest and away from any border to a hostile nation where such sympathies could manifest into a threat these people can simply languish and wallow in their own filth while those with vision rise to glory.
And yet, you find yourself here. Through coercion, the promise of wealth, or the promise of power you find yourself hiding in the brush looking at what possibly represents the best example of what this town represents. As the wind shifts towards your direction from it carrying the unmistakable stench of feces and ammonia in the process of producing softened leather the symbolism, and perhaps something of your own plight is made clear. Filth makes the toughest hides soft. A more philosophical priest of Asmodeus would tell you to take this symbolism to heart and divest yourself of filth lest it too makes you soft.
But, there are no priests here. Least not ones prone to philosophy. Instead you have Cimri. Cimri’s a specialist, of a sort. She gets things done in Longacre. Those things aren’t nice, but they get done and if the price is right they’re done well. Tonight she’s working for a man named Razelgo who has promised you a stack of a hundred coins plus whatever you loot from the tannery. In one form or another you got into contact with her and here you are.
Here on the outskirts of town, the night is quiet and dark. Sparse clouds scud across the sky, momentarily obscuring the dim light from the moon overhead. Across a scrubby field, barely distinguishable under the starry sky, a darkened, fortlike compound hunches in the distance. Cimri points toward the dim structure. “That’s it—Louslik Tannery. Here’s the job: We break in, sack Ol’ Louslik’s office, take whatever’s shiny, and get out before the sheriff shows up. If we get separated, meet back at the Ash House by dawn.” Dull moonlight glints across her dagger as she flicks it in emphasis. “If you get pinched, remember: you’re mute. Keep your mouth shut, and I’ll handle things. I got assurances that we won’t take any blame if things go south. But get chatty and I’ll let you rot.” A beat passes and a usual crooked smirk appears. “If you don’t screw things up, we’ll all be drinking on Razelago’s coin come dawn. Let’s do this.”
Pharice will of course have taken the time to scout the property, looking specifically to determine if there are any guards and if there is an upper floor or any way to access the roof or a high window. Pharice always likes a good vantage point.
Quick as a flash, Pharice loads his crossbow. ”Same goes both ways,” he states simply as Cimri reminds them about keeping silent.
The 6'6" red-skinned tiefling was not created by Asmodeus for stealth. The antipaladin stays at the entry point of the invasion and waits for a signal to go.
With his fiendish darkvision, Jerax Hellfire is able to make out some features of this co-horts in this venture. One human wearing the symbol of the God of Law prominently, must be a cleric. And maybe another cleric of Eiseth, an elf, and a couple other humans. Finally some people worthy of talking to in this sh|thole.
There is little that passes unnoticed about Falariel. Tall, wrapped in armor and carrying a wicked, jagged weapon, the woman would not look out of place in the armies of the Glorious Revolution, what with her skin slightly shimmering, the hair having the sheen of metallic gold, and her pupil-less eyes having the iridescent pattern of cut brilliants.
Glancing around, she mentally divides the group into those who could reliably infiltrate a place, and those who are too visible, quickly placing herself in the second half. "Perhaps some of us may provide a diversion, should it be necessary?" she whispers.
Glancing around, she mentally divides the group into those who could reliably infiltrate a place, and those who are too visible, quickly placing herself in the second half. "Perhaps some of us may provide a diversion, should it be necessary?" she whispers.
"Indeed", the towering tiefling says in a low, booming whisper. "I know I can make a ruckus!"
Draco hated these peaceful, quiet places. Jobs were slim and the coin was poor for them usually. It was his mistake that his coin had run low and he needed work; too many nights drinking at a tavern and being stared at by retired soldiers and simple farmers. He probably would've gotten into a barfight and been thrown out of town just to sate his boredom if he had not met Cimri at that same bar. The girl had ambition, a lack of morals, and she wasn't too hard on the eyes either. A chat led to them discussing business opportunities and a bit of extralegal work came up. Needing a bit of coin, Draco happily accepted.
Days before the job was to be done, Draco did what he did best; drink and talk. He'd buy some drinks for those that came into town or got down with work and chatted them up in between cheap drinks. Rufus sat at his feet the whole time, watching the others around his master.
The day before, under the pretense of taking Rufus for a walk, the two passed by the tannery in the light of day. Staying out of his armor, he tried to keep his head down enough and remain innocuous as possible.
With the job being a bit of extortion, Draco assumed that dead bodies would bring bad attention on their little outfit. He would suggest to Cimri to tell the others about getting something heavy but soft to put down a body if needed. With a newly purchased sap on his side, he would meet the others at night outside of the tannery.
"Evening, ladies and gentlemen." The smooth, low voice of the cavalier reached the others as he whispered. The human man wearing breastplate with a large sword upon his back approached the group. With dark brown hair like that of freshly tilled soil and equally dark eyes, he crouched down low before a large and shaggy dog moved to his heel. The armor and weaponry upon him showed a fair amount of us as well as proper maintenance of his equipment. Not nearly as tall and as imposing as the red-skinned tiefling or as intimidating as the half-orc, there was a cool and calm presence to him. He appeared entirely unbothered by the nefarious group of scoundrels around him as he took a moment to really take them in. A few of them bore the religious regalia of Asmodeus, bringing a slight smirk to his face. He hadn't often worked with the church on the job but it seemed like they all were scrapping by for some coin here in Longacre.
"Well, I ain't as quiet as I like to be with the armor on but I can be quiet enough. Rufus stays with me, ain't that right boy?" The dog mumbled quietly, almost leaning against the cavalier. Draco would point at Jerax and Falariel, nodding at each of them. "You two are quite obvious. If anyone describes you, guards will be all over you."
"Now, I did take a walk around town, talked to some folk, saw a few things. I think you'd find this interesting." Draco says before explaining what he learned and saw.
"And a very good evening to you as well, sir, and to your friend. If you find my look to be too memorable, I have ways of altering it, but I can't alter my training, or lack thereof, quite as much."
A young woman with ashen green skin, red hair and milder 1/2 orc features, still distinguishable as being such, peered around, to see if none followed them.
She wore a small metal brooch, with an emblem of a horned longbow and a sword crossed.
"Well, and here we are. I wasn't expecting to be plundering a tannery, but one never knows if seemingly dull things are exciting."
She had a more close look at the group. Noticing an old acquaintance she hadn't seen since her leaving the Asmodean schooling institute, she extends her hand to Lucien.
"A time no see. Have things gone favorably for you?"
She otherwise gives a polite nod to the others.
Peering through the dusk from the back of the group, Lucien wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into. Intimidating a lowly craftsman in this sorry excuse for a town hardly seemed like it would do anything to further the cause of Cheliax or House Thrune.
However, his mentor had assured him that working for Cimri and her employer would be a solid start on the path towards greater things. And Lucien trusted his mentor's judgement. He had long since learned that to protect the purity of law and order in the infernal empire, it was often necessary to employ deceit and misdirection against those who would disrupt it.
Shifting in his leather armor, he scanned the building for signs of danger, staying well back as the more martial members of the group took the lead.
Walking around the periphery of the tannery in daylight you see the men who work there are far from careful around the palisade. This is to the point where a heavy work cart has created a hole in the beamhouse you can easily push a man through if you weren't in a hurry.
The tannery is quiet. With the gate barred it would take some creativity or brute force to get in.
Cimri waits for you to finisb discussing and elects to follow your lead on this.
"...so I know the only person that should be there will be Jabral. He manages the finances, from what they say. There is another couple that makes a delivery of piss and shit, elderly folks by the name of Shaul and Pippa." Draco offers to his fellows. "It seems that the crew damaged the palisade wall earlier today. Shouldn't be too hard for the quiet types to get in that way."
"You and I could take out the old folk when they're opening the door. I got a sap and a nice crack to the head should be enough to put them down you know?" Draco says to Jerax, looking at the others with a look that welcomed input. This group had unique talents and skills, it would be foolish to not utilize them as best as he could.
”There is a guard dog at night. If I can get a clear shot through the hole in the wall, we can avoid the raising of any sort of alarm.”
Alessandra nods.
"A sound approach on both accounts. As long as the hole in the wall is at decent range away from the dog, it should be fine."
Im gonna say yes. At the southern end is a large tree where some attempts were made to remove it that failed its too far to climb from and into but enouvh you suffer no penalty shooting inside. Theres still plenty of places a person could take cover from you but this is the best option available.
Pharice will make his way up into that tree about twenty feet up. From there, he watches his colleagues get into position at the breech. When they’re ready, he will take his shot. It would help if someone else could take a shot through the opening at the same time, just in case he misses a vital organ.
"If this doesn't work" whispers Falariel to Draco "maybe you could try to control that dog like you do yours?"
"Like Rufus?" Draco says, looking down at his dog. Rufus stares up with all the love that a canine can offer, earning a light ruffle of his head. "It is possible. Depends on how loyal the dog is. Worth trying though, keep the bloodspill to a minimal."
Watching Pharice climb a nearby oak Cimri grimaces and speaks. "So are we shootin the dog quiet like or are we makin a bunch of noise? Doesn't seem right shootin the dog and then makin 'em come see it."
"Quiet first, always." The towering tiefling whispered. "Like trying to shag with your mum in the next room." Jerax's purple eye glinted in the darkness.
”Speaking of keeping bloodspill to a minimum, if we can find the old folks I can cast a spell of disguise and convince them to leave with a fabricated tale of an emergency on their farm.” Lucien remarks.
”Of course, if subterfuge is not an option, we can always default to Draco’s willingness to beat up the elderly.”
"So we shoot the dog, fool the old people and crawl in the hole? Or is it fool the old people, shoot the dog, crawl in the hole or is it shoot the old people crawl in the dog and fool the hole?" Her face scrunches up in confusion as she tries to mentally consolidate and summarize thw various ideas and plans put forth to the group so far.
I guess Pharice is stuck up his tree waiting for the signal that never comes as the group splinters over which plan to follow. He watches them quietly bicker back and forth with Cimri, and the elf starts to theorize on their profits in this venture if he simply cut out the middle-woman...
"Subterfuge. I'm not here to kill people, or animals who mind their own business, if I can help it. However, I can only hide my appearance for a short time."
"Shoot, Fool, Hole." The red-skinned tiefling chimes in with his opinion.
Draco smirks slightly at the comment of his willingness to harm the elderly, giving a little bit of a shrug. "They usually give up quick. Hell, Jerax and I could likely just scare them off with a quick flex is all. We just need the gate opened is all for us to come in. Hell, one of you quiet types could do that yourself, I'm sure." Cimri's confusion brings a soft chuckle before he leans back in again, nodding to Falariel.
"Those of you who can be quiet-like, you go in through the hole in the back. Pharice will keep watch up there in case the dog acts up. Us loud folks will be near the front, waiting for the gate to open. Either you open it or we'll use the pisssellers as our opportunity to get in. Fair? Draco says, looking at the various comrades there.
"Adequate approach.", the black and orange clad woman says.
She looks if anyone is coming along, if not...
Lucien nods approvingly to Draco's suggestion.
"Sounds like a solid plan. Who goes though the hole?"
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Lucien joins Draco and Jerax at the gate.
Draco makes his way to the gate but not directly in front of it or in any torchlight. He gestures for Jerax and Lucien to do the same, it'd be better to ambush them once the gate opens and they're on their way in rather than outside and hope the gate opens. If Alessandra and whoever else was joining her can open the gate for them before hand, it'd be an easy job.
Pulling a tied bit of cloth up and over his mouth and face, he readied himself to do just a little bit of crime.
Alessandra peers through the hole to see if anything would notice her if she'd step through now.
Falariel moves to the gate, pulling up a hood to mask the most evident of her features.
Jerax stands ready behind the others at the gate. The tiefling observes the humans covering their faces to hid their identity and wonders what that must be like.
Slipping quietly into the yard Alessandra spots the dog laying on its back in the middle of the yard snoozing softly. A lamplight coming from the building to her right indicates someone, likely the owner, is staying late.
Pharice readies his shot and awaits the signal as the rest gather round the gate and get some concealment to their faces.
Bout 65ft.
Then Alessandra continues sneaking towards it, sticking in a wide berth from the dog.
tempting fate.
Alessandra holds movement, and looks to see if the dog is still asleep, mutts can wander if awake.
If it still is, she creeps further.
As much to keep the stench at bay as to mask his identity, Lucien also pulls his scarf up in front of this face. He tugs his holy symbol under his armor and checks that his crossbow is loaded.
Alessandra's not more than five feet from the gate before she slips in something awful. The curse she mutters is barely more than a whisper but nevertheless the dog rolls off it's back and sits up staring at Alessandra for a second giving her a very brief window to act before the barking begins in earnest.
The snap of a crossbow string whispers across the yard long after the boot itself has imbedded itself in the dog (hopefully).
If Pharice kills the dog, Alessandra moves towards the gate.
If he doesn't, Alessandra shoots at it.
The dog yelps loudly as the bolt embeds itself deep in the dogs neck it rushes to get up as the second arrow slams into its throat putting it down.
Alas, dog. If you didn't wake up, you'd be chewing bones in the morning.
Alessandra quickly heads for the gate, opening it as quick as circumstances would allow it.
The gate's latched with a simple mechanism. Lifting it makes it easy to push though the rusted iron hinges make terrible noise.
The gate begins to lift up and Draco smiles underneath his mask, stepping out of the shadows. He nods his head at Alessandra before making his way slowly into the tannery proper. The sap sits comfortably in his hand as he looks around, deciding where he'll go first to find the owed payment.
Pharice has his crossbow reloaded, but he stays in the tree for now, keeping the others covered and keeping an eye out for any local law enforcement.
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Poor dog. Victim of his master's insolvency.
"Wait a second!" hisses Falariel at the first squeak of the gate. She reaches for magic, fingers outstretched towards the hinges, and summons a patina of fat to grease them.