Co-GM's: Threshold (Inactive)

Game Master stormraven

Salli’s answer is immediate. ”My understanding is that she isn’t a mind-reader. I was told her power is more like… well, you know how a certain smell – like wood smoke, baked bread, or vanilla - will remind you of a moment from your childhood? You smell that scent and you are 10 again. It’s like that. Her songs stir your memories, musical notes that somehow ‘resonate’ with those recollections. And because she sings about loss and heartbreak, her music ‘vibrates’ with those types of memories, causing them to bubble up. That’s how it was explained to me. I’m sorry if that struck too close to home for any of you. She’s come a long way though, and she is still evolving. Hopefully, someday, she’ll sing songs that tug at happier memories.”

Oh no! I thought I had already posted this but I guess not.

Sabelina is taken back to the end of her time with the gang of street kids who lived and roamed not far from where she lived in Oppara. Although she had hung around with the group for only several months in total, she had become tight with some of them since she had few other social outlets. So much so, that she endured a period of mistrust, bearing the pranks and taunts from many of them until she'd been around long enough to gain some trust and acceptance.

Spending time with them was dangerous by the very nature of the lives they had to live, and not infrequently due to law breaking. Sabelina didn't care though for a while. A house burglary changed things. There had been four of them who actually went inside: Whorly (his actual name was Calix, but he had very curling hair), Genevra (whom Sabelina was best frenemies with), and Nico (who more or less led the group and had been early to protect Sabelina until she was better accepted), and Sabelina (who tended to be able to quickly understand house layouts and routines best).

The pilfering had gone well, as sacks were loaded up they were passed to the rest of the gang out a ground floor window. But, one of the house servants awakened and raised a cry. The master of the house, a Lord somewhere in Taldor's southeast hinterland if Sabelina recalls correctly, had to be held off by Nico as the other three of them scrambled out the window. Nico brained the man with a candlestick, but he didn't go down fast enough. Nico was stabbed and held, bleeding out before the Watch arrived.

The gang scattered, and Sabelina snuck home. She decided she was done. The experience wasn't such a lark, there were dire consequences. In the following days the members of the gang were hunted down, along with other street kids in the area. Most were caught and went to prisons. Genevra and Whorly were hanged.

Did Sabelina feel guilty about taking off home? Not exactly. She knew well enough that once the Watch came to hunt them if would be every kid for themselves. She was only 15, there was nothing she could do to help. Trying would have only gotten her stuck in the mess as well.

But she did miss them.

Xing nods along to Salli's explanation. At the end, she gives a half-smile. "Then we will try to make some happy memories."

Seeing Sabelina's (unusually) somber mood, Xing nudges the woman with her tankard. "You alright over there? I have it on good authority that the best way to deal with haunting memories is multiple rounds of drinks." She shrugs, "Not sure if the Sabelina of tomorrow will thank you for it, though."

Xing bumps Sabelina out of her reverie. She turns her head toward Xing and offers a crooked smile.

"Not haunting, maybe a little bittersweet. A time that was good while it lasted the short time it did, but would inevitably end. I suppose you could call it nostalgia."

"Another drink suits me anyway though."

Sabelina calls for another round of drinks all around, including Elsa.

Xing nods, her own expression souring, "It was definitely not nostalgic for me. Just painful old stuff I'd rather leave buried."

She dips a finger in the remains of her tankard, using the moisture to scrawl Minkaian symbols on the table-top. "When I was a little girl, I was all alone." (if you speak Tien, you notice that the symbols roughly mean "innocent little girl".)

She pauses, and you believe there is much, MUCH more to the story of even that little painful statement. "I found an older woman who took me in. She healed my wounds, fed me back to health, and taught me the symbols to read and write." (The new symbols roughly translate to "A safe home?")

She shakes her head, her tone turning angry, "It wasn't kindness. She was increasing my value at the slave markets." (Tien: "Deceitful Witch")

She shrugs, scrubbing away her drawings with a fist. "It was enough to give a girl trust issues, to be sure. Oh well, everyone has .. what's the expression ... baggage?"

Mama sighs, her breath ragged. Baggage indeed. Enough to kill a horse, with some of us, I think. I've just relived the deaths of three husbands. He drains her drink without even a flinch. I think I'm going to need more of this tonight...

Yash had been drawn into the song without even realizing it. Gone was the crowded barroom, and he found himself living a memory, one he was particularly torn over.

He stood before the burning pyre, smoke rising to the heavens like a twister touched down. He could see his grandfather's body, or what the fire had yet to claim, while the wind blew gently across his face. He could also see his grandfather's spirit, slowly climbing up the ash-swept winds, as if the smoke were spiritual stairs to be climbed by the departed. His grandfather looked down at him from above, a faint smile on his lips. It was all Yashnarz could do to nod once at his departing father figure. He would miss the orc who had raised him.

He could hear the shouts coming from the warband. He knew he had only minutes left, but still he could not bring himself to leave. His instincts told him to run while he still could, but he would not. He would stay until the ritual was complete.

The shouting grew louder. They were closing in, from all sides it sounded like. His hand opened and he spared a glance down at the fingerbone in his palm, the only physical reminder he had of the orc that had been his teacher. The one that had defended him despite his mixed heritage. Perhaps that was the reason he had done so, his heritage. Despite the weakness his mother had displayed, his grandfather never showed him any ill will, only love. A rarity among the war tribe. It was strange really, such a passionate race, except when it came to each other.

He could see them now, charging ahead with their weapons drawn. Their furious shouts drawing him back to the world around him. He raised the great axe, the one his grandfather would no longer need.

Blood ran down his arms and legs, soaking his boots and staining the ground. So many lives lost, and for what? Fear? Anger? They were his weapons too. He had learned those lessons well. He turned and set to his task, not bothering to remove the gore from his armor. A hand here, a foot there, even a skull or two from the biggest ones. They were his now, and they would serve him until it was his time, whether they wanted to or not. Let them serve as they had enforced service on others.

The sound of the tavern returning to revelry brought Yash back from his memories. He looked around, rather confused and asked "kill horse?"

Your drinks are delivered quickly. Elsa is still too teary-eyed to speak so she merely nods her thanks and drinks.

Senna seems reflective as she considers the experience of the evening while studying her drink. "I felt worse seeing me as a girl endure that than I did reliving it from behind my own eyes. But I wonder how Zarzanna - my foster mother - would have reacted if she were here tonight. She never appeared to regret anything in her life. I find it hard to believe she, or anyone, has no regrets. But had she been here and if she had seen hard moments from her own life... I wonder if any of them were related to me or were they all from when she was a younger woman."

Unless you guys have something specific you want to do or RP, I'm going to hit the fast forward button to get us on to the next day's fun. Drop a note if you've got an objection, otherwise my next post will take place the following day.

Sabelina finishes the new drink when it comes and makes it her last. After bidding everyone a good night, she goes back upstairs to her room. She is still very much affected by the earlier performance, and is experiencing the strange feeling of occupying two different times simultaneously. The passing of time lessens the pure emotion of this merging though, replacing it with a more rational clarity. Reliving an episode from the past while it is also at a distance reframes at all for her. It reminds her exactly how she felt a several years ago, while but she interprets those feelings as she would now, an (arguable) adult.

Sabelina slips out of her clothes and back into her robe. She takes her journal and flips to the back page. Then she sits for a moment, tapping quill on the page and finishing the dregs from one of the wine bottles.

So much to say, where to start? Chronologically I suppose. Trunk before branches.

That would be her parents of course. At 15, as well as before and after, Sabelina hadn’t really thought of them as a pair. To be fair, she rarely interacted with them together. Her father was mostly away from home with the business. Her mother was at home more, but tried to be as socially engaged as possible. If her father was away, Sabelina would dine with her mother. But if her father was there, she was to eat separately, usually in the kitchen, so they could have their privacy. She heard them sometimes though.

Mostly she thought of them as a couple of impediments to be manipulated or outflanked. Her mother was tougher and kept eyes on her, in person or by proxy, so Sabelina could be disciplined and controlled. Her father rolled over easily, but more because he wanted to put his attention elsewhere rather than because he was indulgent. She had never wondered about things like why they were together, whether they were happy or not, or how they related to each other. But now, Sabelina can piece the hints and clues together. She begins to write, not to lay out a careful accounting of events, but to capture the essence of them together. If it's her mother who speaks, it’s because Sabelina is familiar with her mother speaking.

And how did that trunk grow such thorny branches? Sabelina was lonely and bored. She had no siblings. For that matter she had no cousins or other family members to spend time with like most of the other families she knew of. Both Cheliax and Galt had pruned relatives until there were few left to count, and none of them were local. A common fate for refugees. Sabelina knew all too well she would begin to accompany her mother to social engagements in a couple of years. But those events or teas, or whatever would be fixed unfailingly on the purpose of finding the best possible husband for her according to her mother. Impressions would be paramount, enjoying herself not a consideration.

Sabelina wanted friends right away though. She saw other young people out in the streets. They looked mostly carefree and able to enjoy their days and nights with each other. That Sabelina was wrong about the street kids’ idyllic lives was hardly surprising, but once she has begun to sneak out and make attempts to befriend some of them, she was stubbornly determined to stay her course. The gang which did eventually come to tolerate, then trust her was old enough to be criminal, but not nearly so bad as some of the others around. Things could have been much worse. For her group it was mostly about getting by day to day, and staying clear of danger.

It was Nico who really made it happen. He had a crush on her, something Sabelina didn’t pick up on at the time. For her part, she wanted Genevra as her friend, so badly that it was her own form of crush. She and Genevra did become friends, but there was always an undercurrent of resentment on Genevra’s part. Sabelina does recognize that she sucked up a lot of attention, especially from Nico and some of the other boys, and that somewhat unknowingly she used her friendship with Genevra as a shield against it. Also of course, who wouldn’t feel some bitterness toward a friend whose problems were limited to a crimped social life when they worried about how they would eat or where they would sleep.

Sabelina understood this about Genevra, and all of them, but not deeply. What she did know was taking the more submissive, sidekick role vis-à-vis Genevra was the way to win her over. Even with the passing of some years Genevra’s death is the one that brings her undiminished pain. Sabelina knows she didn’t have a means to help them. But she can never completely put away the questions. What if she’d been a little braver, or more clever? Was there something she might have come up with but didn’t?

Sabelina begins writing again.

Ready for the next day!

The next morning dawns brightly. From your windows, you can see the sunlight diffusing through the strange pearlescent wall surrounding the city. As you pretty much own the top floor of the Slattern, you hear the sounds of your teammates getting dressed and ready to greet the day.

A short while later you all head downstairs. In the common room, Odelai sits at one of the long trestle tables powering through an impressive amount of food on her plate. Uller stands nearby at attention – or as close as he can manage. He is slightly wobbling on his feet. He looks as if sleep was a distant memory. In contrast, a powerfully-built member of the watch in chainmail stands at textbook attention by the doorway to the kitchen.

The sharp-eyed gnome spies you over the heaping mounds of breakfast options burdening the table. She waves you over. ”Come. Come! Sit and eat. We have much to discuss.” She glances at Uller, satisfied with his bedraggled appearance. ”Citizen Uller, the guards here have reported you carried out your duty faithfully last night, and they only had to wake you once. The Council is satisfied. I revoke your deputization and you are free to go about your day. Thank you.” Uller staggers toward the door with nary a look at your group.

For her seemingly ever-youthful appearance, you see some tiredness around the old gnome’s eyes. ”Did you all sleep well?”

"No." was Yash's simple reply, but he wasted no time in joining the old gnome at her table and helping himself to another large meal. He paid Uller no mind as the man was dismissed.

Xing steps in right behind Yash, giving the older gnome woman a respectful nod as she looks an empty seat.

As she passes Uller, she gives him a flat, fierce glare, her lips baring sharpened teeth with a quiet, malicious growl.

Then she sits, as if nothing happened. "I slept well enough. Thank you for asking." She grabs a plate then begins piling food upon it, mostly focusing on the various meat and animal products. "I dreamed dreams I have long tried to forget, but old ghosts can only bother one so much, I suppose."

She side-eyes the amount of food piled in front of Yash, then makes sure her own portion is slightly — but noticeably — larger. She gives the big orc a grin, then digs in.

"How was your investigation?"

Odelai pushes away from her plate, ”It’s been a bit of a mixed bag, if I’m being honest. One of our teams cornered and killed the final skulk last night. And our people have squeezed a lot of alarming information from the other two, which gives us a much better idea of who we’re up against. She’s led us a merry chase. We rooted out a half-dozen of her bolt-holes since last night – with no sign of her. It seems she frequently visits a bunch of different hidey holes to keep her smell fresh, just in case she was discovered.”

”We believe she is still in the city and the bloodhounds have narrowed her current location – we think – to approximately a six block radius, south of Market Square. Our seers haven’t been able to find any helpful details about her location. They think she has some sort of anti-scrying device - clever rabbit.”

Odelai sits forward, ”Let’s talk about her history since, I assume, you still want a piece of this hunt. She’s been here longer than six months. We’re not sure how much longer than six months but that’s when she ‘recruited’ this band of skulks. And by ‘recruited’, I mean scared them into total compliance. She sealed the deal by eating a couple of their brethren. For the last half-year, she has used them to identify and capture victims for her appetite. They’ve killed and eaten a score of people. And we didn’t notice it because the hag had her people specifically - and only - target visitors who were leaving town. It seems she knows that a resident or citizen going missing would be immediately noticed. And with the way she has evaded our bloodhounds and seers, we think she has some understanding of our methods. As I said before, a cunning rabbit.”

Xing continues eating while she listens, frowning at the elusiveness of their prey. Around a mouthful, she asks, "You said before she is some kind of hag. What does that mean? What kind of powers might she possess? If she is so clever and elusive, might she have some way of appearing to be what ... or who .. she is not?"

What type of Knowledge check is that? Dungeoneering?

She pauses to consider, swallows a huge bite, then takes another, talking while chewing. "Could she be posing as a Threshold local? And if so, how would we be able to identify her?" She pauses her chewing as a occurs to her, "I don't suppose there is an individual who's habits suddenly changed about a year ago?"

As Sabelina passes Uller she offers him a brief nod in greeting, a neutral acknowledgement of his presence. She pulls out a chair while responding to Odelai's question.

"I slept surprisingly well, thank you. I wish it has lasted a little longer, that's my only complaint."

In keeping with her residual drowsiness, Sabelina has no more than some bread and jam, along with some tea. She doesn't want a heavy breakfast dragging her down.

"Will we be chasing this cunning rabbit until she is out of holes then? Or is there a way to snare her faster? If she's so well informed about what we're thinking and doing, surely there must be a way she's receiving information on us? Perhaps someone who close enough to hear what we say, and who also knows where to find her to deliver what they glean from us?"

It would be a K: Nature roll to learn more about her.

To Xing, she responds, ”She can appear as another sort of humanoid creature – a human, elf, gnome, or the like. We don’t believe she can imitate a specific person. And even if she could, she’d have to keep that person alive. Any resident or citizen who dies registers with Anne. I don’t know how it works but she sees all of us, thousands of us, as ‘facets’ in a crystal. When a facet disappears, she knows and she knows who. Also, regardless of form, she can’t stand sunlight. So, it’s unlikely she’s roaming the streets during the daylight hours. It would leave her nearly blind.”

To Sabelina’s questions, she replies, ”We are going to flush her out or kill her where she hides. Our teams are assembling. We are going to saturate the area and sweep all of the likely buildings from top to bottom. We’ve identified nearly three dozen buildings where our bloodhounds have detected fresh scent. You, along with Bob here…” she points to the burly, armored, watchman, ”… have four buildings to search. All teams go in one hour and we don’t stop until she is found or we run out of buildings.”

“It’s remotely possible that someone is dumb enough to be working with her. But it is more likely she and her slippery skulks spent time eavesdropping and reconnoitering us. Her ilk are known for spying on towns to better torment the communities later. Our methods and resources aren’t a secret, one of the disadvantages of being an open society. We’ll just have to cross that bridge if we come to it.”

Returning to Xing’s questions, ”Our quarry is a Flue Hag – stealthy, deceitful, and utterly evil. She is quick and resists magic, especially fire. She will attack with her claws and her teeth. Her bite is the worse… you saw what it does to bone. She can squeeze into spaces you wouldn’t think could hold a body, so don’t rule out unusual hiding spots. And she climbs like a damn spider. Now, a couple other things she brings to a fight. She can breathe out a blinding cloud of soot. And, misfortune surrounds her like a stink. When you first meet her, you’ll find yourself very unlucky for a handful of seconds. And she’ll use those moments to her best advantage. She’ll be playing for her life, and you should to. Don’t get creative, put her down.”

She glances at Bob. ”Are you a sergeant yet, Bob?”

Bob shakes his head. ”I take orders, not give’em, ma’am.”

Odelai takes in the details. ”Fine. Here’s how this goes. Bob will be your guide and liaison with the team. He’s got the location lists and he can make the approach to the home and building residents. Tactical leadership of the sweep will be yours. Bob’s job is to help kill the hag and keep you from getting killed. Do me a favor and don’t get killed. I’ve already got folks questioning the wisdom of bringing you into this operation,” She sighs, ”Questions?”

Lady, whom nobody but perhaps Odelai saw coming in, sits at the far end of the table and is contentedly chewing on a chicken leg. Her tail twitching in anticipation. I love a good hunt. She comments between bites.

Mama arrives last, coming in just as the briefing starts. She slides down beside Yash and picks up a nice, ripe apple. As Odelai talks she crunches through it thoughtfully.
know nature?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
I've heard of these. Their names are rarely uttered. They attract misfortune. She reflexively tosses a pinch of salt over her left shoulder. We should check attics, chimneys, and maybe cellars most closely. They didn't come by their name for no reason. But no. No questions. I'm sure I can speak for all of us when I say we're ready to earn our keep.

The gnome chuckles, "I don't think it's a matter of you earni..." She is interrupted by the Campanile, the bell-ess belltower. It rings once, a single sharp BONG that you feel in your femurs.

"Excuse me." She jumps up and heads to the nearest blank placard, adjacent to the bar. She reads the message carefully and returns to the table, a bit of a spring in her step.

"Looks like you are the people we were sent to fetch. Hemakhek has observed the signs - we transit in seven days. SO, let's run this... rabbit to ground and be safe while doing it. You don't want to miss your first transit."

I think what Odelai has already said is probably equal to your K:Nature roll, Cookie, but I will answer one additional question you pose. I can answer it in character (which will be vague) or you can ask OOC and I'll answer as a DM. Your call.

Once we find it, can we catch it if it bolts, or is its land speed really high?

Mama reflexively grabs the table as if the bell toll might tip her over. Now That was a warning!
No, we surely don't! she agrees.
She stands and lady instinctively comes to her side. We are ready.

Sabelina is quick about breakfast and ready for instructions.

Once we find it, can we catch it if it bolts, or is its land speed really high?

She might be able to bolt but it won't be because she can outrun you. She has a walk speed of 30' but she has a climb speed of 20'.

Odelai nods and stands, "Get your weapons. Bob will be waiting for you in the plaza. With luck, we'll be talking about this over drinks."

Unless someone seizes a RP opportunity here, my next post (later this evening) will assume you are all assembled for the rabbit hunt.

The area between Market Square and Low Gate is largely residential with multilevel apartments as well as single family homes. There are also a smattering of small businesses, parks, and the odd storehouse or two. Normally, it is quiet. This morning, the quiet has been replaced by focused activity. There are armored watchmen everywhere – clearing streets, searching, and herding civilians away from the residences… all under the watchful eyes of sniper/spellslingers on the roofs of buildings or, in some cases, perched on floating platforms. With few complaints, the residents are initially gathered in open courtyards, in the sunlight, and they are watched closely – looking for any aversion to light – before they are escorted out of the search area. Few complaints are heard. Several teams of well-armed watchmen have already started searching their assigned targets

All 6’ 5” of Bob, speaks with another watchman quietly, consults his list, then waves at a bowman. ”OK. We’re starting with this storehouse – two stories, one set of stairs, no chimneys, few interior walls, a fair number of crates, and it’s already been cleared of occupants. Anyone we meet in there, shouldn’t be in there. And our overwatch is standing by. I asked them not to shoot you.” He offers that last bit with a crooked smile, ”We can go in, when you’re ready. How do you want to play it?” He replaces his list with a light shield and draws a freshly-honed longsword.

With her recent gutting still fresh in her mind, and fire magic being all but useless against the hag, Senna opts to armor up before she can be stabbed.

Casting Mage Armor. Xing, want some?

"Daaaamn!" Sabelina exclaims as they arrive. "They really aren't fooling around are they?"

She draws her sword and readies her buckler.

"Let's get to it then. I'm looking forward to an after lunch nap."

Xing would definitely take some Mage Armor, if it’s offered. Thanks!

Xing pauses, looking up at the storehouse. ”Before we enter, Bob, I have a question that’s been bothering me. What .. specifically … does that loud bell mean? And if our goal is to travel with you, is there information from that placard that you can share with us?”

She takes a moment to step into a slow kata, which ends with a brief flash of the Irori tattoo on her left hand, then (with a reluctant glance at the crew and Bob), she explodes up into her full, tiger height.

”Otherwise, let us hunt a particularly naughty rabbit.”

Tiger-Xing: ACTIVATED!
Also, Longstrider cast upon herself.

”I can’t imagine we’d surprise her at this point. So we take it slow, careful, and methodical, clearing all hiding spots high and low?”

”What .. specifically … does that loud bell mean?”

Bob checks his stride for a moment. ”Well, some bells are triggered by Mister Hemkhek or Miss Anne. Others are… we don’t know.” He hitches a thumb to the sky, indicating that sometimes the bells are struck by whoever is controlling Threshold. ”But that single deep bong, like the one this morning, just means ’Check a placard.’ The note we got today said something like ‘Transit in seven days – highest probability. ~ H’ Basically, ‘highest probability’ means it’s happening in seven days exactly. Nothing for you folks to be worried about. Now, if you ever hear a sharp, fast set of bells, that goes on for a long time… that’s when you should worry. Something really nasty is happening or about to happen. Once y’all are settled in your quarters, someone will be by to explain some of this stuff. You folks have been a bit busy since you arrived.” He offers another crooked smile.

”So we take it slow, careful, and methodical, clearing all hiding spots high and low?”

Bob nods, “Sounds good. I should probably be one of the folks in front. What about the rest of you?”

We’ll need a marching order. For the sake of argument, assume a 10’ wide space. Does this work?
[front]
Yash – Bob
Mama – Sable
Xing – Senna
[back]

Let me know of any buffs, etc. the rest of you want to take. And, upon entrance to any building I will do initial PER rolls for the team. After we hit a decision point, other PER rolls will be on you guys unless I think a team roll needs to happen.

Marching order looks good to me. Sabelina will activate Archaeologists Luck once she's entered the building.

Yash unslung his greataxe and moved to stand next to Bob. With a nod to the others, he agreed. "Ready."

Onward!

Feel free to ‘pause’ using those short-term spells and SLAs. We’ll flip them on when needed.

You quickly organize your team and enter the first building…

If you expected the hag to leap out at you from the darkness of the musty storehouse, you are disappointed. As advertised, the building is really one large room (on this level) with an obstacle course of crates, dusty furniture, and various semi-organized piles of small goods you would charitably call ‘junk’.

You methodically sweep the space as a group. Seeing no people or obvious signs of motion, you start poking around the furniture and cautiously opening crates, with some of you acting as guards in case a crate proves occupied. Again, there is no sign of the hag. You finish your sweep of the first level in roughly 20 minutes.

But as you move around the space and become accustomed to the mustiness and granny’s-furniture stink of the place, a few of you notice something underlying it. As you head toward the stairs, Bob quietly remarks, ”D’ya smell that?”

Cookie PER: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27 winner
Sable PER: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Senna PER: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Xing PER: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
Yash PER: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21 winner
Bob PER: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27 O.o I might want that 20 back later.

Yes. Cookie confirms. Like a dead mouse under the floor. Be on your guard. She's either here or was her VERY recently.

Xing, her long tail lashing slowly with simmering agitation, nods to Mama Cookie. As they walk, the tiger begins a slow, rolling Iroran chant, smelling the air for arcane auras as they go.

Other than Perception, Xing will be trying to keep Detect Magic up as we move forward. I don't know that it'll help, but ya never know. :)

Xing will be trying to keep Detect Magic up as we move forward. I don't know that it'll help, but ya never know.

It definitely can’t hurt.

You cautiously mount the stairs to the upper level, eyes alert for any signs of threat. The room is divided into two spaces by an interior wall. The wall features a wide and rough-cut door frame joining the spaces. Looking up, you can see all the way to the underside of the sloped roof… which could definitely use some repairs. But the heavy support beams that stretch from wall to wall below the roof appear sturdy enough to stop the entire ceiling from raining down on you, if it were to collapse. At floor level, you see yet more crates and piles of junk but no additional furniture.

Again, you stick together and sweep both spaces, initially looking for the hag or any sign of her – like smudges in the fine layer of dust liberally spread across the room. Aside from boot-prints, you assume from the watchmen who cleared the building initially, you see nothing.

More of you now notice the dead mouse scent wafting through the space. In fact, it’s more of a dead rat stink at this point… and you smell it most strongly in the room away from the stairs. You all scan the room warily. Slowly, Senna silently points to an area on one of the thick support beams below the roof peak. There appear to be some shreds of cloth or paper resting on the beam. The beam is about 15’ above the floor and the shreds are about 20’ from the nearest wall.

Xing, you detect no magic.
Team, what you do want to do?

2nd Floor…
Cookie PER: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20
Sable PER: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Senna PER: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Xing PER: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
Yash PER: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Bob PER: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

As they move into the new space, Xing quietly gets back to her earlier conversation with Bob. "I'll listen for that urgent sound, then." She notes the boot-prints, then looks back at Bob, "It occurs to me we know nothing about you, Bob. How long have you been in Threshold? Got any family?"

She pauses at Senna's motion and shrugs, "Should I go up there and take a look while you all cover me?"

Senna nods at Xing's idea and takes a bead on the darkness above the rafter. "I'd wrestle you for the honor but I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of Bob."

STAND: Readied Shot

"It occurs to me we know nothing about you, Bob. How long have you been in Threshold? Got any family?"

Bob warms to the topic. "Been here all my life - Threshold born and bred! So that's 23 years worth. My parents, sister, and one uncle are here as well... along with my girl. She's not family but you know what I mean."

Axe in hand, Yash moved to stand directly under the beam where the shreds were sitting. He swept his free hand around, muttering some strange words as he asked the spirits to fetch the scraps above.

Casting mage hand to retrieve the papers.

In response to Yash's efforts, the scraps begin to flutter and move. They appear to be strips of ripped and tangled cloth, not paper. A sizeable wad starts to move away from the beam and then it stops. It seems the other end is anchored to the beam in some way. Some of the loose strips of cloth come loose and rain down. They appear saturated with grime and look sticky with some oil. They also reek.

Sabelina walks over to take a look at what Yash is retrieving only after it starts to fall. Climbing isn't a problem, nor is fighting. But fighting while climbing is a bit much for her to want to take on.

""What do you think it is?"

Interesting question. Let's go with a K:Nature check.

K Nature: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

Sabelina inspects the soiled cloth closely, nose wrinkling in revulsion... and definitively answers the age-old question:

If a Hag has an ass, what does she wipe it with?

Xing nods at Bob's response, "Then we will try to help protect them."

As Yash and Sabelina investigate the Hag's toilet cloth, Xing sets down her quarterstaff to find a way to climb or jump up onto the rafter to see if there's anything else to learn.

What's the DC to make that climb/jump? If jumping is an option, she's got a pretty stellar speed to boost her modifier. :)

According to the Acrobatics table, you'll need to jump about 8' vertical so that your 7' frame can latch onto the top of the beam which is 15' in the air... which puts it at a DC:32. I believe that's how it works. And then you can Climb from there.