Darkness Gathers (Inactive)

Game Master Edeldhur

Selene will look over everyone and begin to assess them the best she can, as she does she also will spit onto her hand and rub any grime off of there faces as if a mother to a child.

"Ach and confound, git off'a me ya cursed fool woman," Johnny Boy impotently whines as his small frame flails about while the tiefling cleans the copious amounts of blood and grime that built up in his brief but eventful foray into fisticuffs.

"Oof, lassie, after all that I'll need a wee drop t' steady meself."

John takes out a skin and pours a healthy measure of some clear fluid into a tin messcup.

After contemplating it a moment he offers it up to Sister Selene the Spit-Cleaner. "Now that we're formally introduced, can I offer ya a bit o' th' creature, or will ya make me drink alone?"

" Sorry I am used to teaching novices and children. Sorry" She says with a bit of a blush coming across her face.

Seeing the drink she shakes her head."I am not much a drinker. aside from an ale here or there or consecrated wine I tend to drink water, tea ,or milk"

Did anything show up on the thieves in the barn during the search?
Ox gathers all the evidence he can find from the would be successful muggers and walks out of the barn.

"Ach, well, more for me then. Don't mind if I do." Johnny Boy tips the cup and takes a fortifying slug.

He didn't feel the need to reflect that, among his kind, to refuse a drink was invariably followed by punching. He had known that he'd be among new people, in this new life, and they would have different ways. Such was part of an adventure, was it not?

"Ah, me lovely, you have my thanks, fer getting me outa the dirt nap, when ya did. A right good'un, ya are." He tips the cup in salute.

"Sláinte."

" wasn't your time, The Moon Maiden let me heal you. I take that as a sign the gods are not yet done with you Johnny. Not done with any of us." Selene said addressing Johnny with a warm smile. Though her sharp teeth showed she was trying to be warm and caring

" Blessed Selune. May you guide these souls on to the afterlife. May they met the Diety they proclaimed soul arbiter of there soul. And thank you for allowing me to receive the gifts capable of helping my friends and allies from falling to the same date as another I once held dear." The priestess says as a quick Prayer for the fallen. It was a standard one in the older books about Chaplin duties. Seemed fitting so she said it with earnest passion.

Wary, and on guard, the dwarf speaks through gritted teeth. "We really should get moving and put some space between us and this place."

He pauses, and then adds, "Delay is only going to bring trouble that I am sure we do not want, especially with that egg in our possession."

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Reu was hard at work with his illuminated quarrel and the dead body, wrist deep in something halfway between butchery and surgery. "Hmm...ah yes, the inferior vena cava! Nailed it! Look at this blood loss, its catastrophic! The Mark III optics are certainly an upgrade, aren't they?" But the dead bandit had no answer, as his vital organs were slowly plundered for academic purposes...

Insane Doctor (Medicine): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

...at least that's the way Reu had it in his mind. To everyone else, it appeared the gnome was just ripping random bits of flesh out and enjoying himself perhaps a little too much.

"That's the descending aorta," Johnny Boy says helpfully. He didn't really know what any of those things were, but he knew some random words, and wanted to be helpful.

"Aye, you have the right of it, Ispen. Let us be back behind thick doors amidst warm fires and have done with this business."

Not wishing to be caught without means again, JB takes a moment and magically creates some Berries. He pops one in his mouth. They were quite Good.

The group opts to move away from the scene without further ado - with Reuleaux half-covered in gore and blood, they will be less than inconspicuous, but hopefully all will turn out for the best.

Are you taking any particular precautions when returning to the rendez-vous point with O'Leary?

GM: Was there anything on the half-orc thug?

* still holding his injured arm and shoulder * A couple of maces, at least. Ow. :D

My bad Oskar - the half-orc carried two maces and was wearing a leather armor. In his inside pocket, you find a scribbled note and some silver coins (25).

Oskar nods at Ispen. The dwarf was right, they needed to clear out, but someone set them up or leaked about the meet. He hoped the half orc could provide a lead. Handing the maces to Ispen he quickly and efficiently riffles through the bandit's pockets. His hopes are rewarded not only with coin, but the note. A quick glance. Not much there, but it's something. He thinks before jumping out of the ditch and hurrying along to rejoin the others.

He passes the note to on to others. "Anyone know who 'W' might be."

I also found this. The ox holds up the symbol of his clan. It is that of my clan. I have no idea yet how it ties in with this whole mess. For now lets keep it quiet.

"Haven't a clue," Johnnie Boy says to the questions two. "Unless the bad guys knew they were handing us a Win, and it was all set up by
Davorox himself. Which makes no sense, so I can't know," he says, mysteriously.

On the way back he reflects at how well it was that he was skulking apart, and so he uses secret Leprechaun ways to blend into the shadows and stay unseen.

Stealth!: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

"We will determine that later. As for the information gathered we can piece that out. The first order of business is to get off the streets." Selene says as she lets the tip of her spear glow once more in the faint silver luminescence of the moons' glow

"Aye, we need to find a place to hole up for a bit." Oskar says, but he's obviously wary to simply return to the Tea Kettle. "But given the obvious double cross, I'd prefer a bit of time to rest and prepare rather than potentially jumping right into the fire back at the Kettle." He points to Ispen and Reuleaux. "Besides they look to need a bit of aide and...what did you do? Roll around in one of the bodies?" He adds really noticing the gnome's bloody and body-bit covered appearance for the first time. "Gods! We can't go back with him looking like that."

Ispen scowls at the gnome's gory appearance, and glances about, moving slowly away from the building, and hoping for an alley where they can get out of sight. "Do any of ye see a trough or a well where we can rinse Reux off, for gods' sake?"

Perception, looking for water: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

"Good lord, don't bother yourself with the bodily clutters of my research. That's what the Automagic Pitblaster is for! Granted, it was originally designed for a certain barbarian's hairy underarms, but it will suit our needs in the moment just the same!" he explained, putting the spleen down for a moment and slipping the adrenal gland into a hidden compartment of his belt buckle. "Just a moment!"

----

10 minutes passed of the bloody gnome prancing around in circles muttering various syllabic alterations of 'zippy' and 'miffy', throwing his hand into a number of obscure and borderline obscene gestures. For a moment the moon flashed red, the musky leaves of autumn returned to their sharp greens, somewhere someone stepped on a duck. The end result was nothing at all. "Aha! There we have it."

Ritual casting Unseen Servant and ordering it to clean myself.

Davorox simply keeps his opinion of this to himself. He has seen far stranger things in his clan.

"Master Reuleaux, I do not doubt the power of such a brilliant device, but often the best ideas come to those who bathe or sweat frequently. To think about all the time your brain has taxed itself with having to use that Pitblaster when a long soak brings visions of magic and devices that only appear on the fringes of your mind to the forefront in full view!!" Selene tells the inventor. She hoped he would find the wisdom in her words and maybe when he can take a nice long soak.

Watching as the gnome goes through what seems to Ispen to be insane gestures and actions, the dwarf shakes his head then says to the others, "We need to get back to the stables and get rid of this thing a'fore someone else comes along to try and take it from us. Wounded, we might not be able ta stop 'em."

To emphasize his point, the red-beared fighter shrugs his shoulders in the direction of the Tea Kettle.

Moving us along.

On the way back he reflects at how well it was that he was skulking apart, and so he uses secret Leprechaun ways to blend into the shadows and stay unseen.

Johnny, there probably isn't a rule for this specifically in D&D5e, but if the plan is to move along with the others 'while' remaining in Stealth, they will eventually outdistance you as you look for hiding places, and need to move from shadow to shadow instead of in a straight line :)

The unseen entity does its best to clean Reuleaux up, and actually manages to do it... To a degree... The pieces of flesh and organs are removed for the most part, but the blood stains and splatters, plus some gore remains, including whatever may be dripping from the crudely extracted adrenal grand (assuming it is indeed a gland, or even adrenal) and down the gnome's trousers.

The group moves off, trying to keep a low profile as best as possible. They navigate the outskirts of Phlan without encountering a living soul, but after they enter the town proper there is more activity, mostly from people who are not even interested in taking a second glance at the companions. However, coming down the street in your direction you can see a guard patrol - their tabards clearly identifying them as members of the Black Fists.

Davorox looks for somewhere to duck into or get off the street while the guard is there. perception: 1d20 ⇒ 18 Noticing a small water trough nearby, he walks over and begins to wash acting as if he isn't with the rest of the party. deception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

"Let me handle this..." the gnome waved to his friends assuringly, the Pitblaster still scrubbing away at some hard to reach areas. He didn't seem to notice or care about the life threatening gash across the side of his neck and extending down his back.

I am giving others a chance to pipe in if they would like, otherwise I will move us along in a couple of hours ;)

Neither covered in blood or wounded from the previous encounter, Oskar simply acts as if he belongs exactly where he is. Just another traveller passing through on his way to find a soft bed for the night. Hat tipped slightly forward, his pack with it's precious cargo slung tightly across his shoulders, he flashes a quick, apologetic smile to Selene before he drapes an arm around her shoulders and lets out a boisterous laugh.

"Aye, now that we've pulled our wayward dwarf-servant back into line, we'll have plenty o' time for cuddlin' back at the inn, Love." He says to Selene in a bright, cheerful voice while giving Ispen a thump on the back. "And next time ye try an' run off with a milk maid, best make sure ye use your own coin, not my ladies best brooch to finance the escapade. A merry chase you've led us. It'll be plenty of work for you in the mines once we get home." He adds giving the dwarf another thump.

Giving the watchmen a friendly tip of his hat as he strolls past, he can't help but hold his breath to see if they buy the ruse. And to judge how hard either Ispen or Selene might hit him once the watchmen round the next corner.

Deception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

Selene blinked and then released what Oskar was doing. She shifted her cloak to cover her wound. AS she did some of her locks fell free, deep lavender curls as she frowned. "His antics got my clothes and armor all dirty. I never thought this adventuring was this difficult. I mean look at my spear its scoffed! You'll be forced to polish it and mend my cloaks when we get home. I don't want the other wives to see my gear like this." Selene said trying to play herself off as a minor noble playing as an adventurer as many did.

Deception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

Ispen not only blinked, but he coughed in surprise when Oskar thwacked his back not once, but twice, then did the bare minimum to hide a scowl when the rogue and priestess openly accused him of thievery and laziness...something that he figured any less-than loyal and wayward servant might do, when caught. "A thousand pardons, mistress. M-master."

Another cough as the last word left his stubborn mouth in a bitter twist. "Won't happen again. On me honor. Good of ye to allow me the chance ta make up for me failings."

Deception: 1d20 ⇒ 13

The absent minded Reu had already completely forgotten the last 20 minutes of his life, back to fiddling with a large glass alembic which seemed to be siphoning some sort of purple substance out of his belly button.

As Davorox washes himself in a nearby water barrel, the gruff looking Black Fist guards observe Oskar, Selene and Ispen for a few moments as they pass them by.

One of them chuckles at the conversation between the companions, another one simply stares dumbfounded at Selene, and the last one returns Oskar's greeting with a nod.

When they notice Reuleaux however... "You there citizen! Gnome! Stand and identify yourself!" - they call out, beginning to move toward the Wizard.

There's a slight *pop* as the glass nozzle is plucked prematurely from his belly button hole, his eyes lingering on the knight's emblem "Ah yes, greetings, sons of Bane. Behold! It is I, Reuleaux of Lantan, optical advisor for House Jannarsk. Here hold this a moment..." he tells the invisible Pitblaster, who takes grip of the purpled alembic while Reu takes a proper bow.

"What..?" - the man reacts by taking his hand to the hilt of his sword, as Reuleaux delivers the alembic to 'something' which holds it in midair - "What is the meaning of this? And why are you covered in... Is that blood?"

"One can certainly hope not!" he answered jovially, waggling a pinky left and right. "And egg-cellent question!" he added, with a weird popping sound from his jaw. "Allow me to expound...Carbury was a Netherese arcanist, prolific in spell inventions of both the illusory and phantasmal...taking advantage of the mythical enclave's universities of the time. He would not pass quietly without producing a number of classics...perhaps you are familiar with Magic Mouth? Yes, his production as well. But you see, psychet-visual distortions of the Weave are only an echo of true conjurative symphonic resonances, which is the very essence of the force you see here. Or rather don't see at all!"

"He's crazy as a loon, that one..." Ispen mutters under his breath, glancing around to see if these were the only guardsmen, or if there were more nearby.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

"He is definitely not right in the head" - one of the guards whispers to the others, as the leader stares at Reuleaux dumbfounded - "Ok... I will ask again... What are you covered in? It certainly smells like blood. And why is that thing floating next to you?" - he repeats - "And I want a straight answer - either here or at the guard post"

Reu, quite unable either to give a straight answer or to tell a lie was taken away by the guard.

As she watches them pass she looks up and looks to Oskar and Ispen "Should we maybe try and get him?" She says softly in a whisper. As she does she continues to look over to the scene with the gnome and the guards.

" I once read a story about Alvediya the Alluring, a priestess of Selune who got caught in the Realm of Bane. She was naked and alone as she prayed eventually she was freed and allowed to take her revenge on the small outpost! It was glorious to read!" Selene relates to the others around her with a big smile.

Not completely dropping his meek servant act, such as his meager acting skills allowed it to be, Ispen says in a quiet voice, "That's certainly a nice story, mistress, but I don't think it's quite how things work in the real world."

A pause as the dwarf rubs his crimson beard, "Maybe we need to get the egg back to our patron...mayhaps he can be of help retrieving Reuleaux from the jail? I mean, the mage may be nuts, but we can't just abandon him..."

Frowning as it becomes clear Reuleaux isn't going to be able to avoid the attentions of the Watch, Oskar regretfully tries one last gamble. He quickly hands the pack with the egg to Selene and then strolls back toward the guards.

"Excuse me sirs. I couldn't help but overhear the trouble you're having with this...errr....creature." He says wrinkling his nose in disgust toward the gnome's still gore shrouded figure. "As you may have heard earlier, I've a small mining interest, and I find myself often short of laborers." He shrugs as if the watchmen would totally understand the life expectancy of anyone working a Banite mine in the local region. Casually rattling the pouch of silver so recently gathered from the fallen thug he continues. "By Bane's providence it would save me a day at the markets and I would guess several hours of paperwork on your parts if I could simply...eh...take him off your hands."

"The way I see it, he's going to end up digging ore either way. This way we all profit and end the night early enough to enjoy a good stout at the pub."

Yet another momentary look of surprise crosses the dwarven fighter's face...something he was begining to think was going to become a regular thing if he hung around these folks.

Curbing his instinct to speak out, instead Ispen steps forward as Oskar makes his way to the guardsmen, the dwarf trying to place himself directly between Selene and the guards' line of sight. Crossing his arms across his broad chest, Ispen does his best to block their view of the pack if possible.

Beyond that, he simply tries to look grumpy...which isn't really all that much of a stretch at this point.

"Oh I don't think that one'd last long, boss," Johnny Boy adds, appearing as from nowhere and stepping around from behind Oskar's legs. "We done lost three this week, and one of 'em weren't much t' be reckon'd by.

That one would have a hard lot ahead of him, I wager. But we can whip him into shape an' get fair price of work out him, I reckon."

I assume Oskar will need a Cha roll of some sort. Giving Advantage to it.

"This one?" - the guard raises an eyebrow at Reuleaux - "You think this one is of any use in the mines - with his size, and blabbing like a madman?" - he adds, and the others chuckle - "But hey... You are willing to pay for it? Did I hear that right?" - the man takes a step closer, eyeing Oskar and the others.

His left eye has a vertical, nasty scar going right through it, which has left it with a pale, whitish and sickening hue. You cannot be sure if it is still functional or not. The right one is deep brown, and peers at each one of you at a time, returning to Oskar - "Why don't you make me an offer then?" - he grins with yellowed teeth.

Yep Oskar, I will need some persuasion rolls if indeed that is the plan. And yes, you have advantage from Johnny's aid.

Oskar shrugs casually as he peers at the ragged and wounded gnome. "Meh...muscle is muscle. And I've a Banite priest colleague who is researching ways to keep the labor working...errr...well beyond it's useful expiration should we say." He adds with a knowing wink.

"So what do you say? I've twenty-five silver here. Enough to see you all enjoy a night at the taverns with maybe a bit a warmth in your beds if you're thrifty." He add giving Selene a quick squeeze with his arm and a crooked smile to the guards.

Persuade: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Persuade Advantage: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

*sees the advantage roll * Johnny, stop helping!! LOL

"Twenty five?!" - the Black Fist guard is unable to disguise his surprise, looking at Reuleaux again - "You must be seeing something I am not..." - but then he just shrugs it away - "Oh well, it's your money. And if you don't care how he got like... Well, like he is, then... We have a deal!" - and finishes with an outstretched hand, and a huge grin.

Reu was still going on and on about ancient wizardry, oblivious... "...yes, that Carbury. Unfortunate hoaxter in the end, and none could say he had a heart of gold. But quite the opposite for the spells he wrought!" as the money is exchanged and the guards walk off "Ah such a booming economy Phlan has these days. Bless the Black Fist for finally restoring order to these lands..." he mumbled as he searched for his misplaced alembic.

Later, when the shouting and frustrations made clear that Reu was in Oskar's debt, the gnome quickly produced a tablet sized array of many cylindrical tubes filled with coppers, silvers, and gold...a novel little coin organizer. "Let's handle the balance, shall we?" he typed in a few digits and pulled the handle on the side, and the little device squirted out 4 gold coins. It was clearly an incorrect quantity, but Reu as usual didn't notice, and Oskar didn't seem to mind.

As the business with the guards concludes and the others head up the roadway, Ox waits a moment or two and then follows.

Assuming Oskar will give the agreed silver to the guards:

"You are welcome, small one" - the leader of the patrol replied to Reuleaux, bringing a laugh from all others as they move off.

The trip to the appointed rendezvous location - the stables behind the Tea Kettle - continues without further disturbance, and soon the companions are met by a familiar face.

"Good. You are back!" - Miss O'Leary whispered in hushed, but urgent tones - "Do you have it?"

Behind her stands a dour-looking human with a distinctive tall black hat. He is clad in somber gray vestments, under which you can see the glint of chainmail, and a scabbarded bastard sword hangs from his belt.