Nidintu responds with an unnaturally wide grin as Amiri gives him the dagger, nodding his head in thanks as he accepts the gift. "Thank you, Amiri Giant-Slayer. I will treasure this gift as a token of our friendship." He fishes in his pack for a moment before producing a battered tome and proffering it to the greatsword-wielding warrior. "In return, I give you The Oath of Mandraivus, my favorite book. May it prove as inspiring for you as it has for me."
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Amiri's reaction is clearly one of puzzlement as she is offered a book. "Uh, it'll make a decent pillow, I guess."
A little farther down the table, Phoebe is striking a pose for Linzi to draw, the halfling chattering all the while about how exciting and inspiring it is to be among such illustrious heroes.
"You are all so amazing, and I think you will make a great queen for the Stolen Lands! You are so kind and smart and beautiful, and you know so many stories!" The bard finishes her drawing, tilting her head to examine the result before tearing out the page and offering it to Phoebe. "Here, I would like you to have this. And these trinkets I collected in my travels, they may come in handy later!"
After thanking Linzi for the gifts, the naiad shifts her attention to Valerie, engaged in conversation with Halrod.
"Halrod of Wyvernstone, a pleasure to meet you. I am heartened by your declared intention to opposed banditry, for in truth I follow a similar path. For many years I've wasted away in circles that did not suit me, and now I have embarked on a journey that seeks to accomplish something tangible in the service of those in need." She gives Halrod a slight smile. "Preferably through my martial talents."
Phoebe joins the conversation. "This is my first event of this kind, but you clearly know how to act and what all the little forks and spoons are for. And you must be very good in battle as well, by your arms and armour!"
Valerie glances at the utensils as if seeing them for the first time. "I was taught how to behave at formal affairs, yes." It seems that she does not want to speak more on the topic, though.
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Halrod keeps chatting with Valerie and does his best to include Phoebe. He can see that Valerie is very beautiful, but such things affect Halrod less than most. He is in love with the woman he's been searching for. He engages Valerie about her experience as a warrior and what she hopes to accomplish in the Stolen Lands.
"Lady Valerie, may I introduce my companion, Phoebe, a naiad of the waters. Phoebe, Lady Valerie."
"So tell us, where and how did you develop your martial talents? I am an archer myself, but have a little training with blades, though no master of Kyonin would claim to know me, I'm sure."
Later, he talks to Maegar Varn and tries to engage him on his goals and hopes for his expedition.
"Lord Varn, I am Halrod of Wyvernstone, an elf of Kyonin. I wonder if I might have the benefit of your insights into these expeditions? I have long traveled the wilderness and trails of the Stolen Lands, but know less of Brevoy and Restov. Perhaps we could be of use to each other."
Roots smiles back at Valerie. The Root leshy enjoying himself. As the table clears and the goblets are drained, the druid allows his blue eyes to roam about the hall.
This shall be quite the adventure. Are you joining, or leading an exhibition, Valerie?
Roots points at his Fey friends.
We are being allowed to go too! This will be such fun!
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Valerie quickly warms up to Halrod's conversational inquiries, although she seems a little evasive on the topic of her past, and towards Phoebe she is polite, but distant. "I was to become a champion of a religious order, Halrod of Wyvernstone. There were some... teachings of the faith that I disagreed with, so I leaned into the martial aspect of my training. Archery takes a great deal of skill, and I commend you for pursuing the mastery of it. Myself, I prefer close combat with sword and shield."
As their conversation comes to an end, the warrior reaches into one of her belt pouches, pulling out a small vial stoppered with cork. "I hear that the Stolen Lands are quite dangerous. If you are to venture there, I hope this might be of assistance to you. Please accept it as a token of friendship."She smiles at Roots-Sink-Deep. "I have not decided yet. I will see what tomorrow brings."
Maegar Varn nod in response to Halrod. "Oh, I am no lord, at least not yet! A pleasure to meet you. There are many things I could tell you of Brevoy and Restov, are you interested in the history, the geography, or the local customs? And how have you found the Stolen Lands? Do you perhaps have an eye on a suitable location to found a settlement? My company and I, we've set our sights to this place..." They continue talking for a while on some of Maegar Varn's favourite topics.
It is rather late in the evening when a bell rings, signaling the end of the feast. Lady Jamandi Aldori rises to her feet, and the clamor of conversation dies down, those still awake turning to her expectantly. In the absence of the near-deafening noise of dozens of revelers, the sound of the wind whipping sheets of rain against the stained glass windows of the Great Hall can be heard - and then the rumbling crescendo of thunder. Raising her glass in a final toast, Lady Jamandi speaks.
"My friends, I hope that you have enjoyed the food and drink this evening!" A roaring wave of noise meets her words - people cheering, stomping their feet, banging their tankards on the tables. It takes a few moments for the room to grow quiet again. Smiling broadly, she continues. "You honor me, truly, but this night is for you! As heroes, you have responded to my call, and I can't wait to hear tales of your exploits in the weeks, months, and years to come." Another wave of cheering crests and subsides. "Tomorrow, I shall speak with you all about your individual charters. I suspect it will be a busy day, so I suggest we all take some rest. After all, you have kingdoms to plan!" A third round of raucous reactions before she gestures to the large double doors to her left and right. "Of course, I've arranged bedchambers for all of you. My guards will escort you to them now. I hope you find them restful. We shall speak further tomorrow when we meet back here at sunrise."
With that, she leaves the hall, together with the lord mayor of Restov, followed by a retinue of armed guards wearing garnet-colored cloaks over suits of chainmail. Other guards begin to escort groups of revelers to their rooms for the night. The fae friends are escorted to a suite on the ground floor of the east wing, consisting of two connected bedroom featuring four beds each.
Halrod gathers the others together.
"My friends, we should talk. There are many agendas here and it is possible that not all are friendly to our presence in this series of expeditions. It is also quite possible that not everyone is comfortable with Lady Jamandi's plans for the Stolen Lands. We should look to our own safety this night, even within these stone walls."
"One of should remain on guard in each room and stay alert while the others sleep. We can each take turns so that we all get some much-needed rest. I will take the middle watch in this room."
Roots-Sink-Deep is seen sitting by a window, enjoying a cup of tea while smiling at the sound of the wind whipping sheets of rain against the stained glass windows of the Great Hall can be heard - and then the rumbling crescendo of thunder. ....
Nidintu looks mildly surprised at Halrod's suggestion. "I was under the impression that this manor was heavily guarded, obviating the need for a guard shift." He shrugs. "However, if you feel it is necessary, I can take any watch needed. If nobody else has a preference, I plan on taking the middle watch shift in the other room - I have good night vision, and I wouldn't mind catching up on some reading."
When his shift rolls around, Nidintu sets his pack on the floor such that he has a decent view of both the door and the window, using it as an impromptu chair as he pulls out Cernat's Arms and Armaments, a functional if somewhat dated book on how to forge weapons. The warrior leafs through the thick tome as he keeps an eye out for trouble, idly fidgeting with the dagger he received from his new friend Amiri (tossing it up into the air and catching it, for the most part).
Lani nods to Halrod. "One can never be too careful. Wouldn't that just be a laugh, everybody going to sleep just to wake up with knives in your guts? Or at least lewd shapes drawn on your face with ink. Hmm, that gives me an idea..."
Her eyes twinkle with mischief, but she laughs it off. "Nah, it's been done. Alright, so sleep with one eye open tonight, friends."
Halrod tries to sound reasonable. "I don't expect trouble, Nidintu-Bel. I have merely learned to be cautious."
His mind fills with an image of the pack of mites which once attacked him in the Greensward as he lay sleeping in the crook of an elm. That was a desperate fight!
Halrod takes his watch as planned.
Half the night passes, with the storm raging outside unabated. Flashes of lighting stab through the closed shutters, painting stark shadows on the walls. The thunder then rolls in, its force sending tremors through the stones of the manor and rattling the windows.
The rooms are simply furnished, holding four beds with a storage chest underneath each, A dressing table with a pitcher, towels and washbasin, and a couple of potted plants. A decorative brass brazier shaped like a sleeping red dragon sits in a corner, a few dying embers pulsing within.
By their reckoning it must be a few hours until dawn still when both Nidintu-Bel and Halrod hear a man's shout, abruptly silenced. A moment later there is a thud and a faint clatter, although that could have been the wind slamming against the shutters.
Nidintu looks up sharply as he hears shouting nearby. Dropping his book, he stows his dagger in his belt and picks up his maul, preparing for combat if need be. He opens the door connecting the two rooms, verifying that Halrod has indeed heard the shout, then quickly rouses Clementine and Roots. The warrior then opens the door into the hallway and looks out, ready to fight if he must.
Halrod nods to Nidintu and then swiftly rouses Phoebe and Lani. "Trouble," is all he says.
He buckles on his rapier and shoulders his bow, then moves to stand in the doorway. Like his fellow elf, he is dressed but unarmored . He listens for signs of what happened.
The lamps lining the walls illuminate the scene in the wide hallway. The guard who had escorted them to their rooms is slumped against the wall to the east, blood darkening the front of his tabard. The door of the guest room across the hall is cracked open. A quick glance up and down the hallway confirms that the other rooms' doors are also opened a sliver, but it is difficult to get a glimpse into the penumbra beyond.
As Nidintu-Bel and Halrod step into the hallway, a grinding, metallic noise sounds from several points close by, with more distant sources echoing through the manor. The floor vibrates, and then shudders as a series of reverberating booms ring out.
Roots' blue eyes stare fondly at the storms gifts of lightning and thunder. The Storm Druid is seen attempting to count each rain drop as it hits the side of the manor. He also seems to wince, sigh and apparently begin over a few times....
Bolting awake like that one time a long time ago (or 1 month) when he accidently sat down on a bees nest. Who knew it would be around the mulberry bush that he got exhausted from running around!
Roots opens his blue eyes, fixes them on Nidintu, smiles and waves, puts on a serious face, grabs his shield and follows the tense tiefling into the hall.
The small Root leshy jersey on the pants leg of Nidintu and points.
A black-clad figure slips through the semi-opened door across the hall.
Lani notices as well the figure slipping through the door opposite. A few moments later, muffled noises can be heard from inside the room across the hall.
Roots seems to be wondering why the turn down service is appearing late across the hall.
We didn't get any mints!
A bit put off by not receiving any mints on his pillow, the Root leshy decides to personally adjucate for his group.
Roots Raises his Shield (just in case the employee is a mint tosser), he Strides out into the hall and into the room across the way.
Stopping just inside the door, he Seeks out the help!
Lani frowns as she sees the figure slip into the room opposite. She gets out of bed, clad in her nightgown, and moves behind Halrod. "It would seem trouble has found us. Let us be prepared to greet it." She casts guidance on Halrod to give him an edge.
As Roots-Sink-Deep pokes his head inside the other room, the lightning flashes from the window and the low-light from the brazier reveal a scene of carnage and death. Three of the room's five occupants lie in their beds with their throats slit, while the other two are rousing groggily. Two other figures are poised over them, about to deliver the killing blow, while the third has started rifling through the backpacks on the floor.
All of them turn as Roots enters the room. They are all human men dressed in black, with scraps of clothing covering the lower part of their faces. Each of them has a distinctive tattoo of a trail of three black tears under their left eye. They hold ebony-pommeled daggers, wet with blood.
The closest one stabs at Roots, but his strike is ill-timed and strikes the shield. Growling, he pushes past, emerging into the hallway. Upon spying Halrod across the hall, he hisses towards his mates before rushing the elf.
"Take care of this, we have another live one."
The other two converge on the leshy, daggers gripped tightly, but in the low light and cramped quarters they just get in each other's way.
Roots frowns at the sudden violence given to his mint request from such a staff!
This may be the worst motel staff ever!
The small Root leshy Raises his Shield and calls upon the winds of Nature to further protect him from this assault!
Gale Blast Fort DC 17
Roots yells
Clementine hops out of the bed and makes his way to the hallway, stepping carefully beneath Nidintu-Bel's legs. "What's all this eh?" he quips to the stranger in front of him, hands on his hips with whip held in one. "And what's with that outfit? Don't you know black was totally last season?"
Nidintu reacts somewhat slowly, having tuned out Roots' babble about mints, but when a black-clad figure charges Halrod, he realizes the gravity of the situation. Bellowing at the top of his voice, the warrior attempts to raise the alarm.
As he returns his focus to the state of the melee, he leaves the solitary attacker against his overwhelming four-to-one odds in front of the other room, instead choosing to reinforce Roots' weak position against two foes. He charges into the room across the hall, leveling a powerful strike at an assassin's head.
Both thugs facing Roots-Sink-Deep are buffeted by the sudden winds, but only one manages to stand his ground.
Baffled, the one that Clementine has addressed looks at the sprite, then looks down at his own clothes.
The blow from Nidintu-Bel's maul folds his target easily, and the man collapses. What is concerning though, is that only silence answers his echoing shout of alarm. No rustling from nearby rooms, no pounding of steps announcing the coming of the guards - just another peal of thunder outside.
Halrod draws his rapier and attacks, taking advantage of the doorway for cover. He opens his mouth to yell, but Nidintu-Bel beats him to it, so the elf just concentrates on fighting. I'd rather use my bow, he thinks. "But with me in the doorway, Phoebe and Lani are safe to use their spells.
Lani clucks her tongue. ”I’m missing out on my beauty sleep!” She casts a spell and fires a beam of divine energy at Halrod’s opponent.
Between their combined strikes, Lani and Halrod take out the figure standing in the doorway to their room.
Phoebe gasps awake to the sounds of violence and the smell of fresh blood. She quickly grabs her whip, knowing there was no time to don the armor. "W-what is happening!? Are we-" the second body falls into the room, already dealt with by Lani and Halrod. "Oh goddess. Who-" She shakes her head. "No, no time! We need to get out and help the others!" She says, and makes to move out into the hall in just her undergarments and a hastily donned coat. Should she still find active battle, she begins her song of battle!
The last assailant left standing curses as his comrade collapses, switching his attention to the bigger threat in the room. A combination of rapid slashing and stabbing attacks leave the elf bleeding from a deep cut on his forearm.
"Damn you! I'll kill you all!" the attacker hisses, hatred in his eyes.
"Kill us all? That seems unlikely," Lani remarks as she strides across the hall and zaps the last attacker with another beam of divine energ.
Clementine bounces from corner to corner and swings under the nearby bed for a perfect view of the last assassin's ankles. "Timber!" he calls.
"Wait, are you not wearing socks? That's disgusting!"
Roots' blue eyes Glare at the a5ssassin, as he attacks Nidintu instead of him.
The Root leshy seems both offended and stunned!
Roots sneers at the likely fallen of assassin.
Small is the new big!
The thug's body seizes a little as Lani's magic strikes him, and thus he is really in no position to defend against Clementine's whip as it coils around his ankles. He topples backwards, a flash of surprise in his eyes before they roll back in his head as he thuds to the floor.
The two occupants of the room still alive scramble upright on their beds, looking around in panic. One of them is a human woman, while the other is a human man with elven heritage.
"Aaah! Who are you?!"
Nidintu kneels to examine the dead assassins as he addresses the two survivors. "My apologies for the unexpected intrusion. Rest assured, we mean you no harm - we simply heard a noise and came upon these thugs attempting to kill you in your sleep." His gaze drifts to the other three murdered figures. "I'm sorry about your friends."
The warrior stands, looking around the room before continuing. "When I called for help, nobody answered, so I fear that rather than acting alone, these malcontents were part of a greater assault on the manor itself. I will check the other rooms and warn their occupants, if possible." He turns to look at the two surviving adventurers. "If you brought equipment with you, I would advise arming yourself, but if not, these cutthroats certainly seemed to be armed, and it's not as if they could put their weapons to better use."
He examines his wound, tearing off a strip of one of the blankets to serve as an impromptu bandage, but waves away any party members who approach with healing spells. "Save your magic - these killers did not act alone, and we will likely sustain more grievous injuries against their comrades-in-arms."
Nidintu exits the room and begins checking the nearby rooms, looking for more survivors but wary of assassins.
The two surviving occupants of the room scramble to see to their dead. The woman seems rather stoic about it, but the man is openly weeping over the body of another man - a companion, or perhaps a relative.
The defeated assassins were carrying several daggers, each of them with an ebony pommel, and a hand crossbow with a few bolts. They wore studded leather armor, and when pulling back their dark clothing, their right forearms each bear a tattooed script. Their belt pouches each hold 5 silver pieces.
Nidintu-Bel begins to methodically check each of the other rooms opening into the hallway. The middle south room, next to the one they were just in, contains another bloodbath. Four adventurers have been killed in their sleep, their blood soaking the bedsheets and pooling on the floor - two human men, one human woman, and a halfling man. Tucked under the halfling's pillow there is a minor healing potion.
The next room to the south is currently empty, but fresh bloodstains hint at recent violence here as well. Whoever the occupants of the room were, they are not here. Under one of the beds, Nidintu-Bel finds a longsword and a tanglefoot bag.
To the north, the room next to their suite paints a similar picture - empty, bloodstained beds, and trails of blood on the floor. A silver ring lies forgotten on one of the bedside tables.
To the east, two massive iron portcullises are blocking the side exits from the manor, while another one bars access to the stairs leading up. To the west, a solid-looking double door stands closed.
Roots follows along with Nidintu, as the elf methodically investigates the other rooms. The Root leshy frowns at all the carnage.
This definitely seems to be some major orchestrated plot related to the venture put forth by our hostess. The reason yet to be revealed could involve political aspirations, coinage flow, or even a disagreement about which folk is for what dish.
The Druid just looks flummoxed by it all.
Why do I need more than 1 folk anyways.
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Nidintu returns to the room with the weapons and equipment he managed to salvage. Seeing the grieving man, he falters, but he eventually motions the woman and the other members of the fae pack into the room across the hall so they can discuss their position. "I fear we may be the only survivors, but there is still some hope - there were signs of struggle in the other rooms, but I found corpses in only one other room, and it's not out of the question that some adventurers may have survived." He appears somewhat worried, fearing for the fate of the friends he and the other fae-touched heroes had made during the dinner.
"As for our situation here, given the lack of response when I called for help, we must assume the worst - that the entire manor has been overrun by a more powerful force. Unlikely as this may be, I would rather plan for the worst and be pleasantly surprised than underestimate our foe and prove fatally wrong. However, we may actually have a chance at survival. There are four entrances to this area - the staircase there, the guard posts there and there, and the door there." As the warrior talks, he points in the direction of the entrances, indicating their general positions. "Ordinarily, we would have no chance against a numerically superior foe, as these assassins could easily surround us and attack from all sides, but the manor's portcullises have sealed the stairway and the guard posts. These impede our ability to escape, but they also guard our flank - we need not fear an attack from behind as we make our way to the exit."
He points towards the massive double doors. "Given that we can infer their presence and they are most likely aware of ours, the most logical place for them to station a patrol is in whatever room lies beyond those doors..." The tiefling looks around somewhat sheepishly. "...the description of which I will leave to someone with a better memory than mine - I confess I wasn't really paying attention."
Nidintu looks around at the room's occupants. "Since we are a small, under-equipped group with limited mobility facing a force of unknown but almost certainly overwhelming strength, I propose we establish a counter-ambush using the adjoining rooms for cover, luring the guards into this annex, where we can attack from a position of strength while they are limited by their own unfamiliarity with this area and the natural bottleneck formed by the width of the doors. In addition to these weapons and the armor worn by our erstwhile foes, we possess equipment and armor that we were unable to use, given the unexpected nature of the attack. I say we ready ourselves as quickly as we can and strike before our enemies begin to worry about their missing patrol."
"We don't know that their force is overwhelming" says Halrod, moving to buckle on his armor. "And I'm concerned for the safety of Lady Jamandi, who is the likely target of these assassins. As guests, we have a duty to defend our hostess."
"Still, I agree that we should prepare ourselves well and use wise tactics. Let's start with your... counter-ambush and move on when that has done all that it will do."
Roots' expressive blue eyes bounce back and forth between Nidintu and Halrod. The Root leshy seems to be trying to seriously pay attention to the plan.
Gathering his gear, Roots prepares for the group's next step.
Can we go directly to the kitchens? I am famish!
He appears to have already forgotten about any previously made plans....
Peeking beyond the double doors reveals a large garden that resembles a tropical paradise - a rather luxurious feature to have indoors, and more likely than not a statement rather than something of utility. Lush plants and flowering vines hang from the walls, while a slow-moving stream of water cuts through the center of the room, flowing languidly from north to south through stone drains. Planters filled with colourful flowers line the stream. Two narrow wooden bridges arch over the water, allowing passage from one side to the other. Partially submerged in the stream to the north stands a life-sized marble statue depicting an armored half-elf woman holding a rose and wielding a shield. The statue stands on a small stone shelf, so the water flows level with its knees. There is a slight breeze in he room, although there are no windows. Looking up, one can see a brilliant night sky - certainly not the one outside, where the storm still rages - of unfamiliar constellations.
Four black-clad figures lurk at the far end of the room, hand crossbows at the ready. They do not seem to have noticed movement around the double doors yet.
As Nidintu attaches the various pieces of armor over his rough clothes, he addresses the stoic woman, his voice gentler than its earlier authoritative tone. "Are you and your friend okay? I understand it must be hard to lose your companions like that. May I inquire as to your name and that of your ally? I am Nidintu."
Nidintu, fully outfitted in his breastplate, takes up a position to the side of the door. He has temporarily exchanged his maul for one of the hand crossbows taken from the would-be assassins, though the massive weapon is still close at hand. After a glance through the partially opened door, he stands ready, his back to the enormous doorframe, waiting for his companions to signal their readiness.
Halrod notes the curious arcane watercourse, but concentrates on the armed figures. His bow drawn and aimed, he signals his readiness.
Roots raises his shield at the presence of more not mint peddlars Standing across the indoor garden.
Now dressed in hastily donned armor over her nightclothes, Phoebe listens as the group discusses what to do and how to lure the assassins into an ambush.
"Um... if we want to draw them to us, how about I walk to the edge of the door, cry out in only partially feigned terror as I see them, and run back into the mansion? They might persue if they think I'm alone. If they work in teams with previously assigned targets, they'd probably assume I am since everyone is supposed to be dead," The naiad reasons, hoping these assailants didn't have the kind of lightning reflexes to instantly pinpoint and fire all their bows in the split second she'd reveal herself as part of the ruse.
The four figures posted on the western side of the garden start as Phoebe's cry carries through the slightly opened door, and they spot her form beyond.
"I think one is getting away. Myron, Fitz, check it out."
Two of them move with their crossbows aimed at the door, one of them positioned to fire through the gap as the other carefully begins to push the door fully open.
As the door opens, Nidintu steps through the gap to stand between the two assassins. "Surrender now and your lives will be spared!" He swings his maul at the malcontents, aiming to stun rather than kill.
Lani calls on her magic to attack the enemies' minds!