Alfen Greenraw's page

Taking care of yourself is the most important thing. Be well, we'll be here when you're ready.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Alfen nods to Morrigan and leads the group back to the previous room, ignoring the martial artist's taunts. "This way," he says, moving toward the warm room to the east.

Hopefully they'll lose their nerve around more witnesses.

As Alfen enters the new room, he looks around for anyone or anything that can help if things escalate.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

"Yes, I know who that is. That's Mikhael. He's the masseuse here. I hope he didn't realize my identity. What do you think he said to those martial artists?"

Alfen keeps his eyes on the approaching Mikhael and the students, subconsciously taking a few steps back in response. "Is he friends at all with the secret police? Or the Cloven Nine?" he asks warily, keeping his voice low.

If a fight breaks out, we're at a severe disadvantage. Guess they can't make martial artists check in their weapons.

"Perhaps we should move to another area? This is all very interesting, and I do want to ask about your heritage, but now is perhaps not the time?"

Alfen nods quickly in agreement. "You're right. I think there was a room back where we came from that sounded like it had more people in it. We should move where there are more witnesses."

The air coming from the room to the east is noticeably warmer, and the sound of voices indicates that the room in this direction is occupied by more people. (area 2.5)

Alfen's eyes widen as he sees the martial artists moving their way, seemingly focused on Ilyana. He quickly rushes back over to the others. "We might need to cut this short," he says quietly, indicating the entrance to the Lounge with a quick jerk of his head. "I don't know who they are but I think they're coming for you." Alfen looks pointedly at Ilyana.

How many students are there?

Alfen watches with fascination as Momo talks to Ilyana. Despite being so... strange, she really does have a way with people. He can't help but admire the musicians as well. Alfen watches out for anything that might seem out of place.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

If there's anyone else in the room listening to the music

Alfen approaches a nearby patron while Momo continues to chatter. "Excuse me, sorry friend," he says jovially. "Have you seen anything strange here today?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

Happy birthday! Take your time, I work for the post office and am dealing with tax week, so my posting will be pretty limited to evenings until Saturday.

I think that's a good idea.

With no sign if Ilyana, Alfen quickly follows Morrigan down the spiral staircase. He kneels down to get a closer look at the clear water of the pool, admiring the spring and the open air above. Maybe if they weren't dead after all this was over, he could come back and enjoy some much deserved relaxation.

Alfen stands up and looks around at the different paths. "Maybe we should split up?" he suggests, though the doubt in his voice betrays that he's not sure it's the best idea. "With that creature possibly on the way, there's no time to waste."

Alfen reluctantly deposits his equipment into one of the lockers, not wanting to part with his instrument. He listens to Nik'olo's conversation with the clerk, not wholly convinced they can trust an eyewitness on something that blinks in and out of existence.

Not much point in worrying though, he thinks as he looks at the guards standing nearby. Hopefully they can handle anything that might come through.

As they walk through the entrance, Alfen looks around for anyone resembling the tiefling woman.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Yes I did! Sorry about any delay, I forgot to bring my laptop with me.

Alfen breathes a sigh of relief as they head to the surface and not toward the monster. He knows he wouldn't have won that argument if Nik'olo decided to stand his ground on facing it again.

Thank the gods he saw reason.

Nik'olo tries to keep his eyes from bulging as he takes in the wealth Momo carries with her: "Two pieces should be enough..." he says, controlling the impulse to take more, lots more...

Alfen glances over curiously, wondering just how much money Momo brought with her to Zobeck. In another life, she could've been an easy mark for him and his friends. As the group stops for books, he quietly warns Momo, "Be careful not to advertise how much money you have when we're around others. There are plenty of thieves in Zobeck."

Alfen grins as Nik'olo purchases the three books. It was a wonderful plan. Hopefully it worked on anyone else who came after them.

I've got about 208 gold so I can buyou a couple of them too.

Alfen balks at Nik'olo's words. "You want to go back after it!?" he asks incredulously. "That thing almost killed us! Even with the fire the kobolds used, how can we be sure that'll give us the edge we need?"

Alfen looks to the others to get a sense as to how the others feel. "If it knows where we're going then we should hurry and try to beat it there."

"Well if that was the goblin that Momo saw, it either knew we were here and ambushed us or ran into us by chance." Alfen frowns. "And if it did manage to run off like Morrigan said, it definitely knows we're here now."

Alfen's face falls. "So the Cloven Nine know where we are." So much for being secretive. I wonder if they have spies down here who heard us talking to Radu. Alfen shakes his head rubs his forehead in frustration.

"There must be another way out of here, right?" he asks no one in particular. With no sign of the beast after being doused in flames, Alfen doesn't feel safe trying to go back the same way.

Seeing that Irwen is being taken care of by Morrigan, Alfen rushes over to Nik'olo. "Here, hold still," he says as he places a paw on the injured man.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

He turns to the kobolds, a relieved grin on his face. "Yes, thank you," he says. "We were dead meat out there." He glances at the others. "Anyone have any idea what that thing was?" Alfen shudders slightly, remembering how hopeless it felt trying to fight off the monster. "You say it was an assassin?" he asks Irwen.

Full Action: Withdraw

Alfen curses himself after the failed Flare and quickly runs after everyone else following the kobolds' command. He grimaces as Irwen begins coughing up blood. "Give me a moment to catch my breath, and I can heal you and Nik'olo," he says, panting.

Alfen nods at Morrigan's demand. "There's no way we can beat something we can't see!" And hopefully it doesn't try to rip the throat out of everyone there.

In an act of desperation, Alfen shouts another incantation as the creature appears again, causing a bright burst of light in front of what Alfen hoped were functioning eyes.

Miss?: 1d100 ⇒ 22

Standard: Cast Flare. Creature makes Fortitude save DC 14 to avoid being dazzled for 1 minute.

Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Will: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Alfen stares in horror as the creature bursts back into existence. Nik'olo's words do little to steady his resolve as memories of his childhood flash before his eyes. Never knowing his parents, living on the streets, scrounging for food and barely surviving. What was he doing getting involved with the affairs of the aristocracy, the secret police, the Cloven Nine? He's just a street urchin playing pretend.

Alfen shakes his head violently, as if trying to expel the thoughts from his head. He quickly moves his arms in an arcane motion and speaks an incantation. As he does, four bright lights resembling torches appear and illuminate the creature.

Standard: Cast Dancing Lights. Duration is 1 minute.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

Nik'olo keeps walking, his cane striking the rhythm on the stone underneath: "I do. The Bathhouse is something to see! One of the few reminders of the Stross's extravagances. Only the Watch can enter with weapons or armour. It's the perfect neutral ground. All sorts of people commingle there..."

Alfen nods as Nik'olo speaks. "From what I recall, it used to cater strictly to the upper crust. Once upon a time, they wouldn't have let riff-raff like us in there," he adds with a grin.

"Momo and I are strangers here and so much of what was said was largely meaningless to me. What did you think of what the dead one said, or of his plan?"

Alfen's grin quickly turns to a frown. "I was skeptical of him at first, but he seemed pretty earnest in his desire to help us. I just wonder what business he wants with Lady Marack." He shrugs as Morrigan glides past him, and he trails slightly behind.

As they reach the surface, Nik'olo adds, now out of Cartways' earshot: "I have one or two things to buy along the way. Keep your eyes peeled for a library or any other place that would sell books, full or empty."

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

"I've spent quite a bit of time in libraries, but rarely in this part of town," he adds mournfully, trying to recall any booksellers that might be on their path.

Does the Bathhouse have a designated place for people to store any contraband?

I hope that things calm down for you and you're able come back!

I feel comfortable with the pace we've set. Like you said, I think everyone's posts have been pretty high caliber, so even on the slower days the story still moves.

"Let me explain. Each side is after the same thing, and has charged you with getting it for them. But neither knows the other is involved. If you invite them both, each will blame the other for interfering... and you can slip off the hook in the chaos that ensues." Radu rubs his hands together conspiratorially.

Alfen nods excitedly as Radu explains his plan. This is what he had been hoping for! A way to go against the Spyglass Guild and the Cloven Nine without either one suspecting a thing. But there is still one thing that's nagging at him...

"What exactly do you get out of this?" Alfen asks bluntly. "Not that I don't appreciate your help," he adds quickly, "But this plan of yours must benefit you in some way."

It could be as simple as what Momo said. Maybe he wants to see both groups dead, Alfen thinks to himself. But what if he wants something from us? He shudders to think what being indebted to Radu Underhill would be like.

Alfen climbs the ladder, unable to stop himself from staring at Radu Underhill. The ghouls by themselves were frightening, but there was something disturbing about one that seemed to masquerade as if he were still alive. The kitsune glances around at his companions. Nik'olo was being strangely silent, did he find the Dharakul as off-putting as Alfen did? Momo, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered at all.

Momo’s ear lean back and words keep spilling out: ”Actually, if I’m being completely honest, the people after Ilyana are after us too. The thief – Grigori - randomly approached us and the wrong people saw. Now they want us dead regardless if we help Ilyana or not.” Momo wrinkles her brow, ”But I do want to help – I want to be an adult – and help." Momo finishes her rant with: "Regardless of what the Cloven Nine or Spyglass Guild may do to us.”

Alfen shoots Momo a pained look as she offers up way more information than was necessary. "As you can see, time is of the essence," he interrupts before the young catfolk divulged even more details about themselves. Alfen isn't sure how much more information Momo could give away, but he's worried that she'll still manage it if left unchecked. "We need to find Ilyana and keep moving."

It's doing the same thing for me. And under the focused messageboard tab, anything with new posts will be bold like normal, but it won't have the (x new) after it.

And I like the battlemap! I'll have to wait until I have my laptop again to check out the tokens.

The deep dwarves chuckle at the threat. "Come and arrest us then! We have come here a long time for slaves. We know your law means nothing in this place."

Alfen deflates as his attempt at appearing threatening falls embarrassingly short. He used to be more threatening. Or did he? That part of his life was what felt like a long time ago, and memory could be a fickle thing. Either way, it is clear to Alfen that it's better to leave any intimidation tactics to Nik'olo.

"Do you need our help carrying those items? Purr?" Momo tilts her head.

"We have to go... Let's go." comments Nik'olo, wanting to leave this dangerous place, but not wanting to leave Momo behind.

Alfen looks anxiously between the two, and slides next to Momo. "Nik'olo's right, we should get going," he says quietly. "He'll be safe with the guards." Alfen gives a pointed look to the kobold guards, as if there could be any confusion as to which guards he meant. "But we don't have much time to find Radu."

Knowledge (Dungeoneering): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

Alfen grimaces as the violent scene unfolds. He can't say he's ever been a big fan of the kobolds, but no one deserves to be treated like this.

Momo looks on in horror as the dwarves beat up on the kobold tinkerer. ”We have to save him! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Momo pleads with her companions.

Alfen looks to Momo and nods fervently. We can't just stand by and watch this happen. He is about to say something to the dwarves when Nik'olo steps in.

He grabs his cane in the manner of the Spyglass agents he saw earlier that day, the pommel mekes the cane look somewhat like their silver-tipped stick, and advances defiantly to the Dwarves: "OY! Stop kicking! That Kobold is wanted for questioning at the Blue House! Back off or I'll call for reinforcements!"

Alfen quickly turns his head so that the dwarves and guards can't see his smirk. When he turns back, he is scowling with arms crossed and fangs showing. "You don't want to see the bottom of the Blue House, do you?"

Bluff (Aid): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Alfen eyes the dwarves and ghouls with suspicion, sticking close to the group and subconsciously holding on tight to his now-heavier coin pouch. He looks around at all the hustle and bustle for anyone who might be a Dharakul, though he has never seen one personally. Alfen wonders how much would they stand out from the regular ghouls that seemed to be everywhere down here?

"He's a merchant here," he offers. "Radu shouldn't be too hard to find. Or we could just ask." Alfen approaches one of the kobolds currently on guard. "Excuse me, friend," he greets the guard, smiling knowingly. "Can you tell me where I can find Radu the Fixer? I have a... problem that needs taken care of."

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19

Alfen smiles widely as he sees the coin taken from the thugs. I can only hope every step of this mission ends so lucratively.

"We follow the only lead we've got" she answers the unspoken question. "We go find Radu Underhill. But first, we still have to get out of here."

Right. The Dharakul. Alfen nods in agreement, taking a moment to revert back to his normal shape. "Then let's get out of here before the others show up to check on their friends," he says.

But where is the Black Market?

Take 10 with Knowledge (Local) to know location of the entrance to the Cartways. 10+7=17

Alfen quickly puts away his instrument and helps drag the other lookout into the same alley. "Can you believe that?" he says excitedly in a hushed whisper. "It all happened so quickly!"

Leaving Momo to sniff them out, Alfen takes a moment to catch his breath from the adrenaline rush. He glances over to Nik'olo. "Find anything good?"

Done.

Alfen curses himself as the guards regain their senses. He's about to play it off when he is suddenly startled by the sudden flash of a sword. He quickly steps to the side and in front of the guard struck by Nik'olo as to prevent his escape, and regains his composure.

Alfen continues playing, but his song suddenly changes. Instead of the dreamlike tune heard before, a more intense piece begins. Anyone paying attention might recognize it as strange variant on the Rill of Bill.

5 foot step and Inspire Courage. Allies receive +1 on saving throws against charm and fear effects and to attack and damage rolls.

Oh shoot! I'm so sorry, I knew that and completely forgot.

Sounds good!

Alfen curses himself as the guards regain their senses. He's about to play it off when he is suddenly startled by the sudden flash of a sword. He quickly steps to the side and in front of the guard struck by Nik'olo as to prevent his escape, and regains his composure.

Alfen, still grinning, continues to play. "Come on now, fighting is so hard, isn't it? And so unpleasant! Just sit down and listen to my music."

I'm taking a gamble getting this close to the guy, he thinks grimly to himself. If it doesn't work this time I need to bolt and switch tactics.

5' step to flanking position and continuing Fascinate Bardic Performance with Will Save of DC 15.

I'm fighting power outages and a tree that might be falling down in my parking lot, so I might not be able to get back until tonight.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Alfen eyes the lookouts for a moment, and retrieves his fiddle from his pack. "You fellows seem tense," he says cheerfully. "Allow me to take your mind off of things with a bit of entertainment. And maybe if you're feeling generous afterward...." Alfen winks and, without waiting for an answer, begins playing quickly and quietly to avoid alerting their nearby friends. In his simple but fast tune, Alfen imbues some of the arcane power he has taught himself into his performance in an effort to fascinate the lookouts.

Using a Bardic Performance for Fascinate. They get a Will save with DC 15 to avoid its effect.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

"Sorry about that. We're after a fox and a cat. Did you see them?"

Alfen's ears twitch as he catches the words. As Momo starts to get restless, he whispers quietly to her, "Morrigan's right, don't make any sudden moves. They know they're looking for people who look like us. A cat and a fox," he clarifies with a grimace. "We need to be careful."

"I'm going to change shape and go up there. If things get ugly we don't want to waste time getting everyone out of the tunnel." All of a sudden Alfen's body transforms to that of a human once again; taller and skinnier than before but with auburn hair and the same blue eyes. Carefully, Alfen climbs the ladder and opens the hatch.

Disguise: 1d20 + 9 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 9 + 10 = 39
+10 bonus is from being in human shape

"Oh!" he exclaims, feigning surprise. "The ladies told me there would be no one here." He grins sheepishly, trying to look embarrassed. "Let me tell you, gents, they can really party in the Silk Scabbard. They know just how to treat a man."

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

I'm fairly confident that with a 21 I can hear what they said. But if not, I'll still do the same with the justification of stopping Momo from doing something unpredictable.

After a moment of indecision, Alfen shakes his head and follows the group into the tunnel. The transformation trick was handy, but the problem was it only worked once. And if it was just him going out the front, well... One person does not make an ambush. Better to save it for a more desperate situation. And Alfen can't help but feel that such a time would come soon.

As they near the exit, he offers, drawing his cloak over his head: "I'll go first, with Irwen, arms locked like a couple. We'll signal the rest of you. If you see we get approached, wait. They might just question us. If they believe us, we'll get the drop on them right after, as you come out. If they don't believe us, then come running." He ends with a wink.

Alfen nods quietly and slows his pace to drop to the back of the group as Nik'olo and Irwen take the lead. Following the stern man's advice, Alfen assumes an anxious expression: eyes wide, head jerking to look behind him and to the sides, nervously wringing his hands. Hopefully they could avoid an outright fight.

Coming once more to the present, she shakes her head. "I am not sure we have time for disguises, unless you mean of the arcane sort. They are here now."

"I can easily transform myself to appear human," Alfen quickly reminds them. "But it sounds like we don't have time for that." He stays close behind Morrigan and Momo as they begin to move toward the tunnel.

Alfen's ears twitch as Iskra redirects their attention to the curtain. He begins to make his way to the curtain in an effort to get out before the Cloven Nine show up, but he stops before moving the curtain and turns around to face Filipa and Iskra.

"Will you ladies be alright?" he asks anxiously. "I couldn't stand myself if any harm were to come to you just because we were here."

Alfen nods grimly at Filipa's statement. "Yes, from what I understand he's a Dharakul. I can't imagine what it must be like to be a monster and be fully aware of your nature. I think I'd rather just be a ghoul. Not that I want to be either, of course," he adds hastily.

As Iskra suggests walking away you all remember the words of the Spyglass Guild outside the Wheatsheaf. Find the girl and give her to us or you'll all see the bottom of Blue House. And don't try running... you aren't hard to find.

Alfen grimaces as these words echo through his mind. He really doesn't want to cooperate with the Spyglass Guild or the Cloven Nine. He wasn't lying when he said he had no intention of turning in Ilyana to anyone, but it was getting hard to see a way out. Speaking of the Cloven Nine...

"We should probably get out of here soon, before that tiefling from Wheatsheaf shows up. How do we get out of this room without being seen?" he asks, looking around for the secret exits to the tunnels Irwen and Katya had mentioned earlier.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Knowledge (History): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22

Iskra yawns. "I'm sorry, no. I really don't know anything about Radu Underhill. I just know that Ilyana was a little scared of him, but she felt he would be able to hide her."

Alfen grimaces at this but says nothing. He had never been down into the Cartways himself, but he was more than familiar with their reputation. And he knew Radu Underhill as well. Some kind of Dharakul, he had heard. But he would wait to tell the others once they were out of the Silk Scabbard.

"Yes, the Cartways are extremely dangerous," he agrees with Irwen, nodding. "Maybe we can find a kobold to guide us through," he adds, half-jokingly.

"Hand her over to whom, Filipa?" Iskra replies icily. "I have to tell you, I don't really see a happy ending in any of this, especially for Irwen and her friends. The Spyglass Guild and the Cloven Nine. Both are dangerous, and both want Ilyana. To comply with one is to earn the wrath of the other, a death sentence however you slice it."

Alfen's face falls as he stares at Iskra and processes what she's saying. He hadn't even realized, but being in trouble with the secret police and the Cloven Nine? He might have to leave Zobeck if they didn't cooperate with one of them.

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

"Of course we wouldn't turn her over to anyone," he says defiantly, though he is uncertain if this will be true. Maybe there would be a third option that did have a happy ending, despite what Iskra says.

Momo sits back down next to Alfen. "What is the Black Book anyway? It doesn't sound edible." Momo folds her arms over her chest.

Alfen shakes his head in response. "I'm not sure what exactly the book is," he says, "But it seems very important to Lady Marack. Probably don't want the Cloven Nine getting ahold of it. I'm no fan of the Blue House, but at least they're not out to kill us." Yet, he reminds himself silently.

He listens to Filipa as she starts talking about Ilyana, trying to take in and remember as much as possible. Alfen glances at Iskra and realizes how lucky they are that Filipa decided to come down and join them, he doesn't think Iskra would have been nearly as talkative.

Iskra scowls. "And how do you know these aren't Cloven Nine in disguise, Filipa? Just because they have Irwen with them? Well they could have fooled her and now they've fooled you! Ilyana wouldn't like you telling all of her business."

Nik'olo Gaczi wrote:

But then he blurts out, genuinely worried things will go south fast: "We're trying to help her. Do you know where we can find her?"

Iskra seems to be soothed by Nik'olo's assurances. "Fine, well if we're going to trust you, I have something to say. I don't know where Ilyana is hiding but I know who is hiding her. Radu Underhill. You can find him in the Cartways black market."

Alfen almost jumps out of his seat at the accusation, but breathes a sigh of relief as Iskra is calmed by Nik'olo's words. He stands up and asks, "Is there anything we can say to Underhill to get him to trust us? I doubt he'll just take us at our word that you sent us to him."

Knowledge (Local)-Radu Underhill/black market: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

Sorry! Been running around all weekend and hadn't really had time to sit down at my computer until now.

Alfen gapes in disbelief as Momo begins her fort building and quickly shuffles out of her way as she begins dismantling the furniture.

"We actually need to find a woman named Ilyana. It seems that a certain gentleman friend of hers may have gotten her into trouble, or perhaps it is vice versa. I'm not really sure which, and don't care frankly, but now they've somehow dragged me into it, and it seems I must get to the bottom of whatever is going on with them, and to that end Írwen needs to speak with Ilyana. I understand one or both of you know her?"

Alfen nods along with Morrigan's explanation. "Yes, and there are dangerous groups after us as well!" he adds, more enthusiastically than what may have been appropriate. Alfen finds himself terrified of being killed by the tiefling, of course, but he is also overwhelmed by the sheer excitement of the night. It's become a little hard for him to process.

Once Momo has completed her pillow and blanket nest (although perhaps highly inappropriate for the current situation) Momo tugs at Alfen's hand. Momo purposefully picks the hairiest looking creature to prospect cuddling. Momo will generally always pick the furriest or largest creature because she assumes they will be the warmest. "Do you need a rest?" Momo tilts her head in question to Alfen. Then, she points to the nest of pillows and blankets. "While we wait," Momo adds.

And that didn't make it easier. Alfen shakes his head, wanting to wait and hear what Iskra and Philipa had to say.

Momo becomes more insistent - regardless of Alfen's answer - pulling harder on Alfen's hand and arm. "Come, come" Momo crawls into the "nest" and pats a hand next to her on a blanket. "Comfy and warm," Momo encourages. Sometime during her crawl inside, the hood of her cloak fell back, exposing two perky ears. Momo peers up at her companions from the safely of her fort.

His attention is drawn back as Momo begins tugging on his arm. "Okay, okay," he says, shrugging sheepishly at anyone whose attention is pulled to the two animal people. He carefully sets himself down on one of the cushions and sits there awkwardly.

Momo looks over at Alfen. Is he going to play for a mate? I wonder if kitsune work here. Or does he have a thing for humans? Momo's ears twitch as she thinks, her gaze lingering on Alfen. Then, she bluntly asks Alfen: "Have you been here before? Which one is your favorite?" Momo thinks the notion of money in exchange for mating is strange, but she wants to fit in and therefore tries to go along with it.

Alfen can't help but laugh at Momo's question. "No, I can't say that I have," he says. "Not to say I've never thought about coming here, I just, ah..." He trails off. "Well, I certainly never imagined my first time here I'd be crowding into one of their rooms with five other people," he says, shrugging.

Nik'olo offers: "Shouldn't we wait for her friend?"

Alfen nods in agreement. Both of the women should know they might be in danger. Or were they putting them in danger by seeking them out? The kitsune grimaces at the thought, but says nothing. It was too late for that now.

Nik'olo blushes while looking outraged by Alfen's insinuations.

Alfen grimaces at Nik'olo's reaction and decides not to make a comment about taking a spongebath. He glances at Momo as she asks Katya about their food selection. Can't believe she's still hungry. I guess tracking that tiefling across the city took a lot out of her.

"You know you lot really paint quite the picture. You look ready for war. Are you going hunting Irwen?"

Alfen shrugs nonchalantly at the question. "You never know what you might run into," he says, all too aware of what they might run into once they've left. "Better to prepared, that's my motto."

Alfen swallows a chuckle as Nik'olo and Irwen work Katya to their advantage.

Private rooms, secret exits, and the girl we need to talk to is right there at the bar? Too easy!

Alfen suddenly glances around the room anxiously. Actually, it did seem too easy. Where were the Cloven Nine right now? Could they be absolutely sure that they hadn't been spotted and followed after the Broken Seal? Not that it mattered, since they were apparently headed this way anyway. He eyes the gaming table and Iskra's client with suspicion. They seem to be the only ones in the room who weren't employed here; if there was anyone here to spy on their group, it could be one of them.

Alfen turns his attention back to Katya and the table. He chides himself for letting paranoia get the better of him. The tiefling from Whatsheaf was fast, but according to Momo he had only just been ordered to ambush them as the group was quickly leaving the Broken Seal. There was no way he had gotten here before them. Everything would be fine. Probably.

"Two girls, eh?" he winks at Nik'olo and grins at Katya. "He's quite the rascal, our Nik'olo."

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (16) - 1 = 15

Alfen grins at Katya as she walks over to the table, but it quickly disappears as he notices how rude she is to Irwen. Thankfully, her off behavior seemed more out of hurt than actual malice. They had made enough enemies already in the short time since leaving the Wheatsheaf.

"The rest of you, if you want to see what a real lady is like, there are plenty still here since Irwen moved on. Two silvers for a private room." She addresses the table as a whole with this last invitation but her eyes linger on the men, and Nik'olo in particular, profiling being part of her trade.

Alfen would flush with embarrassment if his cheeks weren't already covered in red fur. He looks at an interesting spot on the wall past Katya, unable to make eye contact. "I agree with Nik'olo, a drink would be great," he says, avoiding responding to the proposal directly.

On a flight of stairs just to the left as you enter, a particularly lascivious looking lady leans out of the shadows over the rail, covering her otherwise bare breasts with her hands alone. She withdraws again after making eye contact with Nik'olo.

Alfen flashes a quick grin to the girl just before she takes off. Guess we don't look like their normal clientele. He shrugs and quickly takes a seat at the table with everyone else.

Momo looks startled and continues in a whisper: "The don't know where she is hiding and they think we will know after talking to the people at the Silk Scabbard. The goblin told the horned one to ambush us, torture us for information, and then kill us. And... they spoke to the girls at the Silk Scabbard before but they said the girls didn't know they are the... Cloven Nine? Do you know what that is? We need to prepare! I don't want to die!"

Alfen leans in with interest as Momo recounts her experience in the Broken Seal, but involuntarily throws himself back at this last part. "Are you serious?" he whisper shouts, trying not to raise his voice loudly. He looks around frantically to see if anyone else is listening and is relieved to note that the nearby tables are currently empty. He turns quickly to Irwen. "Who was your friend that knew this Ilyana? She might be in danger too."

A leonine creature, who's body looks like a brassy, scaled dragon, leaps onto one of the mounds about a hundred feet away, settling themselves down and resting. The creature has no wings, but there are scars where wings seemingly were, at some point.

All of the conversations are in Shoanti unless otherwise noted, they're basically ignoring everyone but Yazi and Aru, sorry!

The gaunt man looks suprised at Yazi, and continues in Shoanti "you know Thousand Bones? I am One-Life." He gestures at himself and glances at the elderly woman, who inclines her head, "I am Ash Dancer. We know Thousand Bones. He is here."

One-Life continues, speaking to a gangly teenager that is hanging out "please, Pezi, fetch Thousand Bones." and the kid runs off towards one of the gers. The head of the sun would make the party uncomfortable, but the magic prevents thsi, and so the party only feels emotional discomfort as they stand awkwardly, waiting for something to happen.

A few moments later, Thousand Bones himself emerges from the tent. He raises his hand to his forhead to keep the sun out of his eyes, and looks to the group. His eyes brighten up and the man approaches, saying in Taldan, "do my eyes decieve me? Is this Yaziyah, Marcus, and Magda?" He squints and peers at everyone, "and some others."

He opens his hands expressively, in Shoanti, "One-Life, these are the Korvosans who aided in returning Gaekhan's body. This is the Yaziyah who made the community center." One-Life nods, "I expected as much, from your tale, but I do not know Korvosans, nor their ways."

Thousand Bones sighs, and says in Taldan, "it does not matter. Welcome, all. You should be honored guests." He extends a hand to shake the hands of those who he knows, and in a friendly way, to those he does not know, including Trinia. The ebullient bard returns the handshake cheerily, and seems to be 'taking in the culture', somewhat gobsmacked by the vast differences between her own life and the way of life of the cinderlanders.

The boneslayers and One-Life seem to all relax, and the typical hubbub of the camp slowly returns. Thousand Bones looks around, especially at Marcus, "were you not heavily armed before?" and spies the sack, and frowns at the boneslayers, "give them back their weapons, they mean us no harm" and the various armaments are returned to everyone.

15th of Erastus, 4713 AR

The party saddles up, or doesn't, and heads east, now at a slower pace towards the Kallow Mounds.

The remainder of the day's trip is uneventful, other than the hot sun that is not even noticably uncomfortable, beating down on the entirety of the party.

The party finds a small cave in a canyon and rests, without a fire, for the night, wary of drawing attention to themselves in this dangerous place. Endure Elements is great.

16th of Erastus, 4713 AR

The party finds themselves at midday trekking across more of the expanse. Cinderstorms are in the far distance to the north, near some mountains, but clearly are not going to cross the party's path. Jolstinia can get some more mounts. After a few hours of travel, it becomes clear that the party has entered the formal terriotry of the Skoan-Quah, as they encounter large rock cairns topped with animal skulls—markers that serve as both signposts and warnings to deter strangers, as Aru knows innately and anyone else can guess with a DC 15 local.

After about an hour of travel past these markers, the party crests a ridge and finds themselves surrounded by a half-dozen men and women with bows trained on the party. One steps out from behind a rock and holds up a hand, speaking in halting Taldan.

"Tshamek, why do you come to these cairns?" They do not appear hostile, but they are not particularly friendly. Shoanti: Tshamek means 'outsiders'. They appear not to give any particular deference to Yazi nor Aru, referring to everyone the same way.

If there are no objections, I’d like to make minor h ch anger to make my PC slightly less powerful in favor of flavor. I think the optimization thus far has been sufficiently tuned such that we have a good chance of winning any individual encounter, even with slight power reductions.

For example, I likely would change my character’s primary weapon enchantment from keen to merciful. I may also change his primary weapon from a scimitar to something silly such as a gnomish weapon.

I would also contemplate moving him into being a bleachling gnome in lieu of a regular one. The change would have slightly fewer mechanical benefits but it would make sense from an RP perspective.

Trinia, behind everyone, casts a spell on the party, Haste for all and fumbles a bit and says, "oh, um, shoot..." and settles her nerves, before saying, "what do you call a chimera with one head?" she pauses, "I don't know but we're going to try and find out!" She glances at the others, and follows, "chimera means she-goat so, I couldn't make an uno-mera joke." Shaking her head, she hopes her joke inspires the others.

Inspire Courage is now active, everyone has a +2 competence bonus to attack and damage, retroactive to any turns they've already taken. You also have a +2 morale bonus to saves against fear.

Marius had accepted the benefits of the spell that Kela had cast, and Barksley had little comment, but when he and Kela were in the middle of fighting, it became clear that what the woman had given him was a a portion of a long-simmering anger that she seemingly had been holding in herself in the entire short time they’ve known each other. The rage seemed to bleed from her, into him, and as they engaged in the fight, Marius noticed that he remembered all of the indignities he had suffered.

All of the slights.

Her oratory brought to his mind every instance where some crook won. Some charlatan who preyed on the weak.

He found himself barely able to pull back on his blows enough to keep the sentries alive, and while Kela was clearly in the same situation, the woman caught his eye and it became clear that she was almost relishing it. She fought dirty, twisting arms, punching the enemies in the gut, scratching their eyes, all with abandon and supernatural strength.

She breathed heavily as the effects of the inspiration dissipated and raised her eyebrows as if to say do you feel it? Do you understand?

But only for a moment.

It isn’t long before the same canny expression returned to her face and the same odd, scheming, disguised face is back, and she’s kneeling, grabbing what gear she can find as she ties up the sentries before patting them on their bearded faces. ”Sleep well; may your next waking hours be more pleasant than your encounter with us,” she whispers, and turns to the others, ”ready.”

Before they’re shoved out into the street Kela holds up a hand, ”wait! Before we go, I admit that we have not been honest with you. My name is Almestri al-Dazeem, and I come to you with a proposal. Please hear me out.” Assuming they don’t immediately throw her out, she continues ”I am a princess of Qadira, and I come bearing an offer. The rumors of the power of Carrius travel far. This man,” she points at Marius, ”asked the question on my behalf. We seek to meet the prince up close. May we meet him in person? My man-at-arms was merely trying to ask important questions on my behalf.” She smiles gently and says, ”even an audience, would be enough for now, in return you would have the undying gratitude of my family as well as the considerable resources we have at our disposal. Considerable. A mere few moments in his presence is all I ask. If he truly is the prince, I will let my countrymen know of the glory of the Twilight Prince.”

She nods her head and says, ”in addition we could explore further relationships - I am ambitious, and I seek to explore how to cement ties between Qadira and Taldor. If this truly is the Twilight Prince, Carrius, our two nations could end a thousand years of bloodshed if we join together in peace and prosperity, under his divine protection.” She says this sheepishly, as if a little shy, and she adds ”I also admit that upon spying the young man, I found myself struck by his handsomeness.”

Take 10 on bluff, glibness, no penalties for outlandish lies = 10+34 =44

The man seems confused about the exchange with Senna, and obviously embarassed, and even more confused at Mila’s response, ”sorry miss, I didn’t mean anything by that”, he mumbles, ”in Mivon half the swordlords are women? What are…?” he shakes his head ”no matter, the same to you as well.” He bows and puts his helmet back on.

He mounts his horse and wheels around to strike Mila.

ride: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 31
cmb: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (13) + 16 = 29

The pair fail to unseat each other, their lances connecting but glancing off the shields.

Kela looks confused, ”a positive outcome is not necessarily death - our hope should be that a miracle occurred and that a small measure of peace be brought to a family riven with tragedy.” she closes her eyes and says a prayer in Kelish, making a warding sign ” الله يرزقهم هذا السلام والنعمة” she whispers and inhales, exhaling, ”but should the worst come to pass I suppose we should be prepared.”

1d20 ⇒ 20

The crowd is laughing jovially when Ankus is caught, and the dwarf sheepishly gets off the stage, he and his bard friend becoming spectators.

Irovetti raises a hand chuckling, ”it was a good effort, but we prefer a traditional approach,” and he nods for the next participant.

The master of ceremonies continues, ”the next to boast is the representative of Gliocas,” and he waves his hand invitingly for Chrysa to step onto the stage and speak into the tube which will magically augment her voice. The other competitors watch her and the crowd for signs of what they may or may not be receptive to.

******

When Chrysa finishes her boast, there is an eruption of applause, and Irovetti judges, ”few have come close to matching my own skill at boasting, but with Chrysa at least - one has come close. Well done!” The king applauds and gestures for the next to continue, with the crowd cheering wildly.

Chrysa got an 87.

Pitax is first after Gliocas and the well-known comedian and satirist steps up, I won’t attempt ‘good’ satire and comedy because it likely would be worse than she could do. It’s commonly known that the woman, Annamede Belavarah, has a strained relationship with Itovetti, but as one of the most famous and popular entertainers in the River Kingdoms, it seems he’s loathe to lose an advantage for his kingdom.

The woman appears to be in her early 30s or late 20s and smiles wryly as she approaches the podium, nodding respectfully to Chrysa. Interestingly, all of her boasts seem to be about the Stolen Lands - and it becomes clear (perhaps only to Chrysa) that she claims to have been responsible for most of the seemingly random misfortunes which affected the barons and baronesses who had been given charters, including Shadowfall. And the boasts are effective and at least a little embarrassing, but unfortunately the targets for embarrassment have all either fled the stolen lands, retired to live within Gliocas, or become absorbed by it.

Some notable examples include : Destabilizing the Android Annala’s unicorn and fey themed barony with a subtle propaganda campaign that escalated to the point that the barony collapsed.

Finding a way, somehow, for Sootscale’s kobold allies to betray him, though she admits that the goal was to overthrow the governor, not kill him.

Sending in someone to seduce the leader of Shadowfall, as she mischievously winks at Chrysa, so they could take over the country after getting married to her.

Slowly poisoning Orri Lebeda with non-lethal stomach ailments to get the young man to quit running the barony.

She buttons this by noting that all of ways that she tries to embarass Gliocas failed, and she lists a half-dozen, from trying to smuggle in some imps to cause mischief to pure-direct disinformation campaigns. She notably does not mention the failed assassination attempt.

Interestingly, the way she explains this, with humor - is extremely effective. But when it comes to skewering Sophiel or Gliocas, she’s notably joking with a sense of respect, and in some ways, her language mocks Irovetti, placing blame upon him for the failures of the more outlandish schemes.

At the end, she has 46 points and Pitax is in second place..

Ceala’s boast is a tale of blood and danger—she tells of how she single-handedly saved a small village in northern Galt from the ravages of a demonic chimera who had wings of fire and a scorpion’s tail. If her tale is to be believed, Ceala lopped off the chimera’s dragon head with her sword, crushed the goat head under a falling rock, and tore the chimera’s tail from its body and strangled its remaining lion head in order to kill it—all without spilling the glass of elven absinthe she’d started to drink when the chimera spotted and attacked her.

It falls a little flat and she only gets 14 points.

Mialolessa is a beautiful elven woman, well known and well loved in her home kingdom of Tymon. She boasts of her days spent in Kyonin, and of how she seduced a succubus who had been sent from Tanglebriar to enslave her and drag her back to Treerazer to serve as the demon’s consort. After she seduced the succubus, Mialolessa sent her back into Tanglebriar and, to this day, receives gifts of strange fungal potions and wines with which the succubus attempts to win her back. If her tale follows Memon’s, she adds a stinger to her story, mentioning that it took her weeks to recover from a particularly embarrassing condition she “caught” from her succubus lover, and how she hopes none of her other lovers since then have been suffering from a painful rash of late. She casts a sly glance at Memon, who seems to look a bit worried, but the performance is well done and she receives 36 points.

Shaking off a look of concern, Memon spins an implausible tale about how he stole into a temple of Calistria and seduced all seven of its priestesses, including the high priestess, in a single night. When the clergy realized he loved none of them, he escaped on the back of the temple’s sacred giant wasp with the high priestess’s corset as a trophy. The priestess’ boast seems to have gotten to Memon who ends with 24 points.

With the boasting concluded, Chrysa wins easily - all but guaranteeing victory for Gliocas in the Rushlight festival. Chrysa stands at the podium while she is awarded a first place ribbon, and Annamede graciously accepts second place, though she has a smirk on her face. The announcer raises his voice, saying ”congratulations to Gliocas!”

Irovetti’s genial composure seems, at the margins - shaken, and he stands, commanding the quiet attention of those assembled ”Shadowfall and Gliocas it seems. How interesting is it that the borders of our neighbors have changed so recently. And convenient. But, of course! It is not against the rules. I will remind all assembled that a competitor must be fielded in every competition - even if caught cheating -“ He grins at Ankus ”to win the festival, and that second place is wide open. The Midnight Joust awaits!” He smiles down at the competitors and he and his retinue dose appear into the viewing tent to return to the pavilion.

Annamede turns to Chrysa, as the crowd begins to disperse, ”well done - you should be proud of yourself. Not everyone can subject themselves to the slings and barbs of the stage.” She breathes in deeply, ”I think my time in Pitax draws to a close. Soon.” She hesitates and adds ”as for my boasting … well, it is just that, boasting. Irovetti isn’t nearly smart enough to do all that.” She extends a hand, ”Annamede.”

As they are finishing up, Kela clears her throat, ”thank you, council. I am not an agent of Rashaid Beyamara and cannot speak for Keleshites in general, but for my part I believe your course of action to be best for all of our shared prosperity. شكرا لكم والبركات في بيوتكم.“ She bows her head.

Otherwise, Kela is largely emotionless when the council makes their decision, but she does stretch her scarred hand reflexively. As they file out, she sticks relatively close to Marius. He will probably be the bodyguard target. As they move away from the council building, she finally exhales in relief and allows a hint of a smile on the corners of her mouth, and rolls her shoulders. The woman stands a little straighter and follows the others to the nearby park space I found a map that has a small forest on it - don’t know what it is called - but it looks like the only one, so I assume we go there. When Rose begins to explain what their options are, she remains standing, watchful, as she guards the park for threats.

Kela shakes her head slightly at most of the potential next steps, ”forgive me, Lady Talbot, but the matters in Yanmass which you and Lord Erallan were most concerned with have been addressed, to some degree. The council is on your side. I would ask…” she seems to be thinking about her word choice, ”erm” she exhales carefully, measuring her breath, ”ask… that we investigate the Queen’s brother. It’s probably very important to the Queen that if he truly lives, that we free him and they be reunited.” She purses her lips, ”of course, I work for Lord Erallan and would not wish to overstep.” Rose gets the sense, through her body language, communicated only to those in the party, that she is extremely motivated to head to the Whispering Bower as soon as is conceivable.

She passes a secret message to this end, take 10 bluff if we’re being observed for a 24.

Kela listens carefully at Rose’s speech and waits until long after the tailor is done, and the merchant council is almost ready to start deliberating, before clearing her throat.

”Excuse me, I apologize if I am speaking out of turn. I am Kela, and my background is Yanmass, as you can probably guess.” She inhales and exhales nervously, ”I think Miss Talbot is correct, though if her words are unpersuasive, perhaps I have another perspective.”

She opens her hands, ”I am nobody. Most of the people in this town are like me, nobodies. But we represent two worlds, and perhaps a vision of what Taldor could be, what it should be. One more concerned with peace, prosperity, and safety than ancient grudges.” She gestures to the folks who are partly Kelish, ”we are your neighbors, we are Yanmass. As much as you are. Especially those of us who are of mixed ancestry.” She grows emotional and seems to struggle to control her voice, which cracks slightly, ”th… these outsiders, they came to destroy that acceptance and tolerance. To what end? Power? Money? For them, of course - not you. But who would suffer? Our people, those of two worlds. And Yanmass would never be the same. A thousand years of peace destroyed in the name of petty sectarianism.” The emotions shift to anger and she struggles even further to compose herself, closing her eyes.

She opens them, ”I am nobody, as I said. But I am the people of this city. And if you do not take these allegations seriously, the people of Yanmass, Firewatch, perhaps even the council, will be scoured away like a statue in a sandstorm. All in the name of Taldor’s supremacy. Speaking to these people -“ She gestures to the others in the party, ”they made it clear that the Queen will not try to change this and force us to become something we are not. The Queen knows this, I … I think, and knows what made us successful.” She falters a bit and bows her head. ”Thank you for your attention.”

Diplomancy to assist, add another +3 if this counts as “handling a crowd“(court poet), Kela is helpful so it adds +3: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (9) + 21 = 30

Kela approaches Marius from the side, and nudges him before whispering to the lord, ”we are in the open, I would advise some caution - boss - we don’t know who’s listening. The … drake is out of the bag about them being deserters, but …” She hesitates, ”should we get off of the street?”

Kela keeps her hand on her falchion, "and let us all be clear, we can talk about things but - we are not going to go back and forth on this forever. Decide soon - it does not really f@@*ing matter why you all tried to start a war," She shakes her head, "فشلت خطتك." She draws the falchion, "if the conversation is over - here's a final choice - lay down your arms and come along or, if you're lucky - we'll beat you unconscious and drag you behind our horses while Jondus watches your body hit every rock along the way." Kela seems somehow to be bulkier in the saddle, and she seems angrier.

intimidate: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (18) + 21 = 39
bluff?: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (16) + 14 = 30

She flicks her sword to point at Jondus' neck, "or I can just kill your husband now and we can fight it out. I do not f&@+ing care. I am tired of dealing with you a&$%#$#s." Her brow is furrowed, and she looks on the verge of losing it.

Faenia Level-Ups

1 level of Ulfen Guard

+8 HP

Skill points- various added, bluff, oratory, acrobatics, sense motive
Retraining - rage power (scent) to strength surge

New powers: chosen ally, rage pool (separate)

Feats added: deflect arrows, amplified rage

Saves boosted: +1 fort, +1 will

Iorvetti laughs, ”it is no matter. I know of her tendencies very well, and it comes as no surprise- she isn’t much for games or fun, is she. Not like Grand Pitax! We’re absolutely the pinnacle of perspicuity, aren’t we, Naomi!” He’s voice is deep and powerful, and it’s clear he can command a room with ease.

”Come, we have prepared liberations for you all, even the … guests.” He looks a little confused as to who the newcomer is, but there’s no malice in his tone or expression. He waves and the pair of women move to offer the party some food and drink. Notably, they hesitate before offering Senna anything, but a glance to the king is enough to resolve their indecision.

Can choose to eat or drink, or not. Regardless, he continues. ”A pleasant trip? I hear your mistress can travel at great speed when pressed. Some would say in unnatural ways… not I, of course. I daresay that any miscreate who spreads such scabrous lies suffers a punishment - isn’t that right Naomi?” He takes a swig of his drink and looks at his advisor. His two servants nod agreeably.

Anyone can make a lore check related to art. Or if you have any other applicable similar skill with a -5 penalty. Also, if your Pc isn’t too bright, but is well versed in linguistics, they can try that too. Finally, anyone walking around with a 14 or better int knows something else without a roll. PM me if you want to know the last thing.

Naomi, if you’d like to create a vignette to prepare your PC for the Rushlight festival, you have some free reign about how you served Pitax and maybe why things are changing.

A dwarf might make sense from a roleplaying perspective as well.

I checked it out, no objections. Thanks for working on this.

I'm going to assume pre-emptively that I'll rebuild around solo-scouting and trapfinding.

Will give SL space to do some RP when they're back from their absence.

Laori considers Marcus' words carefully, "maybe! But you'd be advised not to cross the Shadowcount. Kuthites have long memories." She grins, and winks at Marcus. Trinia seems a little shaken by the experience, and she turns to Laori, "so... I'm a bard, which means we pick up a lot of little bits of information, you know. I know something about Zon Kuthon, but I guess I've never met a worshipper..." Her eyes flick to Krovax, "I guess, I have before, but maybe I didn't know it." She smiles meekly, "what's your take on things?"

Laori inhales, and looks at everyone else, "a little different from others, but you know - I still get all my spells, so I must be doing something right. Here - " She gets up, and rummages through her magical satchel, humming the melody of a popular tune quietly, and grabs one of her pamphlets, "-yes, here you go." She hands it to Trinia, adding "Krovax is a bit more of a traditionalist. And the Shadowcount is much more of one."

Krovax coughs, interrupting, "Laori, please." His dark-rimmed eyes turn to Trinia, "much was taken from me, which I have now accepted. Zon Kuthon granted me the power to destroy those who harmed me." He pats the scabbard on his hip. "he granted me freedom as well. Free from foolish boundaries."

Laori looks at the party, her face obscured from Krovax, and she smiles sadly, obviously out of pity in some way. She sighs, "anyway, good luck, I'll check in when I can." She moves to hug everyone, even Trinia. Krovax also shakes Marcus', Yazi's, and Aru's hand, but still avoids Magda. Can resolve Kali later.

She also goes to the kitchen and grabs a small box of loose tea, offering it to Magda, "this is the best one with the cookies, I think." She grins, "remember, it has to be hot or it doesn't steep correctly."

With the parting words, the party packs up their things and heads out of the gilded cage, and soon finds themselves on the streets of Kaer Maga again. It's easy enough to find a path that will lead the party north, to a gate out of the city. There seem to be few holdings just outside the gate, but there is a road stretching off to the northeast for some distance, which Aru points out leads to a larger road that follow the Yondabakari river, as well as a crossing, about 10 miles to the north. From there, the party will have to traverse the trackless wastes to get to the Kallow Mounds, where they determined they're most likely to find Thousand Bones. Even with Aru in the party, he doesn't bypass the need to talk to the Skoan-Quah directly. Aru knows that the Sklar-Quah might talk to Aru alone, but probably not at length, and it would require a ludicrous skill check to convince them to help in this matter. Having met them before, he doesn't even know who to ask about the matter, and also knows that they're so xenophobic that they react badly to anyone who regularly interacts with outsiders. The Lyrune-Quah are also basically nowhere to be found, they only travel at night, and the party knows that aside from the cold of the desert during the evening - that is the most dangerous time to travel. Your best bet is to talk to Thousand Bones first - but if you all want to try to find the Skoan or Lyrune, please let me know if any skill checks are made to this end.

As a reminder, since you've left the city, Magda feels disconnected again, per above.

Setting out towards the Kallow Mounds, the party leaves the relatively verdant area next to the river and starts to travel across the dry, ashen soil. Hardy plants spring up here and there, but the environment is quite arid, and while the sky is clear, occasionally far in the distance to the north, black plumes of smoke seem to belch from the ground. These sulfurous eruptions lead to the Cinderlands' namesake, and are the source of the ash and the frequent cinderstorms that the party tried to prepare for. At the moment, the path ahead seems clear, and relatively flat, though very, very far in the distance, the distant foothills of the Mindspin mountains loom.

From the perspective of fauna, the party sees lizards, arthropods such as beetles, scorpions, and spiders, and the occasional mouse or mouse-like creature. Far above, the party occasionally spies vultures and hawks soaring, and the occasional thorny bush seems to house sparrows and wrens, as well as a few trees with weaver nests, but the party doesn't see too much from warm-blooded creatures as they travel - and the reason soon becomes apparent. The heat. As the party leaves the cool waters of the Yondabakari, the heat begins to become apparent.

Desert environment, so we'll be doing appropriate fortitude saves with appropriate bonuses and penalties, including for heavy armor, endurance, etc. It's about 50 miles to the Kallow Mounds.

Orik clenches his bow when the tree threatens them, but he doesn't respond. His mouth is a thin line, and he seems ready to strike as soon as the others give the word, if they chose to do so.

When the tree offers them a riddle, and an explanation, he doesn't appear to relax. He mutters a prayer under his breath and keeps his attention focused on the tree, staying a fair distance away.

The duskwarden nods their thanks at the donation, and puts it into the lockbox, and they return to the task of ferrying people along the route.

From the exit of the Halflight Path, the most obvious entrance to Kaer Maga is through the Gap, a massive break in the ring of Kaer Maga’s walls where an ancient explosion tore away thousands of pounds of stone. This carnage has been mostly filled in by the district called the Warren, a many-storied shantytown of rickety scaffolding and makeshift shacks, yet a wide corridor still runs through the center and plays host to a constant stream of traffic in and out of the city.

This is also the best place in the city to find local guides. As soon as the PCs enter the Gap, they’re swarmed by mobs of local children offering themselves as guides. It doesn't take long before they've successfully hired one, but the party easily catches a few trying to pick their pockets in the 'scrum' of trying to help.

Map of Kaer Maga[/ooc]

With sufficient financial incentive, one kid, an excitable youth of about 11 years leads the party southeast from the Warren, which may be the first district visitors see but is likely not the main destination for most. As one of the largest trading districts in Korvosa, and a city that famously has become wealthy through trade, the crowded stalls and wagons of Downmarket are invariably the destination of most. The primary commercial center for foreign trade, this is where caravans off load their goods and purchase new cargo, cutting deals both large and small. Though prices tend to be slightly higher here, as merchants catering
primarily to foreigners trust the dizzying crowds of the market to discourage newcomers from doing a lot of comparison shopping, even native Kaer Magans are forced to shop in Downmarket on a regular basis, as the selection is simply too good to ignore. The belief that
anything can be bought or sold in Kaer Maga stems in large part from the merchants of Downmarket, and no good or service is off limits here, no matter how taboo.

Unlike most of the other districts in Kaer Maga, Downmarket contains very few permanent structures, instead consisting of a constant shuff le of carts, tents, wagons, and awnings. This is primarily to accommodate
the steady stream of traders who, rather than simply selling their goods to local merchants, are equally likely to set up small shops of their own for as long as their stock holds out, reaping greater profits by selling directly to consumers. Most business is conducted during the
day, when the swirling crowds of shoppers and hawkers are shot through with pickpockets, palanquins, solemn Augurs, and gawking foreigners, but the carts that don’t pack up at sundown often do business long into the night, catering to those souls drawn by shows at the amphitheater or restless merchant guards eager for entertainment.

The kid gives the party a short tour, pointing out various districts they pass but don't enter, and takes a roundabout way through the downmarket to show a few landmarks. The party passes by one of the few permanent structures in the district, a vast and columned affair of stone with wide steps too tall for human comfort climbing up to a covered walkway that extends all around the building. The party easily spies a handful of large trolls watching passersby and a few welcoming visitors into the accessible areas of the temple.

They also spy a lakeside amphitheater and see for the first time the large lake nestled into the center of the small city, and a few patches of green park space that is being enjoyed by lounging merchants or nobility.

Perhaps more unsettling is the slave market - true to its word as a city of unlimited commerce, there are slaves of various stripes up for auction. As they pass by, a few well-meaning folks seem to be actively discouraging the sale - or even buying some of the beings where they can - a small comfort in city that seems indifferent to this indignity. Heavily armed guards seem to dissuade most of the freedom fighters from starting anything more, and the kid seems to think nothing of it, seeing it as just another normal behavior.

It doesn't take long to leave the bustle of the Downmarket and enter the Hospice. They pass a temple of Calistra, and more than a few obviously 'red light' facilities, but the majority of the district is composed of inns, taverns, hotels, and spas (as well as homes for the workers). The kid is surprised, somehow, that the party would be going to Canary House, but it takes but a few minutes to arrive at the door of the opulent, five-story building that seems to take up half of a block. An elegant sign showing a gilded canary in flight makes it apparent. This is Canary House. The kid waits for payment and bows thankfully, rushing off to ply their wares for a new set of tourists.

Upon entering Canary House, the party is assaulted by luxury. Other than Korvosa Palace, the party has likely not experienced opulence at this level before. Inside Canary House, the walls are elegantly decorated in avian themes representing the birds of A’kaan’s native Garund, yet these are seem not to be what gives the inn its name. Rather, the moniker comes from his famed Songbirds—slave girls chosen for their talent and trained from the time they could speak to sing in unbelievable harmonies, each word a chord with a dozen voices spanning several octaves. These girls, while carefully cared for as the investment they are, swing from trapeze perches in gilded cages, and lest the audience be fooled by their elegance, thin chains around their ankles provide a constant reminder that the golden bars are still very real.

The proprietor, a half-elven man who looks at his ledger, stands nearby in a small nook, and calls the party over. He introduces himself to the party as Alaeh A’kaan. remember, the sweat, grime, and dust of traveling on the party is quite apparent, and few among you keep-up-appearances. He notes, "I'm sorry, but Canary House has no vacancies, please check in - it appears that we may have some openings in two weeks." He gestures towards the dining area, replete with obvious, incredible wealth, "as you can see, the dining area is also booked for some time. Please enjoy the harmonies for a moment before seeing yourselves out." He inclines his head.

The party briefly explains that they're here to see a guest, and the pleasant demeanor of Alaeh breaks slightly, and he asks for the guests' name. When the party tells them Laori, he looks at his book and shrugs, "nobody by that name seems to be here." The party looks around briefly, and describes what she looks like, and Alaeh responds with a curt, "oh. Yes. She's in the grackle suite, with two other men." He coughs briefly and excuses himself after asking for their names, to expedite things Marcus pings her to let her know they're here, and gives her a pseudonym to expect. Giving Alaeh the pseudonym, he gestures to a porter to run along and ask if the guests would wish to entertain visitors.

The porter runs off, and comes back in a few minutes, nodding, "yes sir, they're expected." Alaeh inhales and exhales slowly, very well, please take them to grackle, but remind our guests that any damage comes out of an already expensive bill."[/b] He shoos the porter away, and the party follows, entering a small box the size of a room set into the side of the inn that has a few buttons showing various floors. The porter presses three, and the box seems to magically levitate, slowly, with the party inside, up to the third floor. The porter swiftly moves to the suite, and the party finds themselves in front of a door with a vibrant-looking black bird with purple and blue rainbow highlights painted elegantly onto the front. The porter knocks for a moment, and the door opens immediately.

Laori Vaus, the irrepressible elf, springs out giddily from the room. "I'm so glad you guys came!" she exclaims, looking over everyone, and seeing someone new, she notes, "and you brought a new friend! Hi! I'm Laori, it's nice to meet you!" Trinia is taken aback slightly, but smiles broadly, "heya, Laori, I'm um... I'm a friend of theirs," she looks warily around the hall, "can we come inside?"

Laori nods, but not before hugging everyone she's already met before, despite their protestations, and despite still wearing her viciously spiked chainmail. She lingers a moment when hugging Marcus and pats him on the shoulder, "you look better. I'm so happy Marcus." She smiles beatifically at him, and, I point out she's an insanely good liar, or this is genuine, she seems very happy to see that some of the permanent lines in his face are less etched into a frown these days. "Come in, come in, Marcus said you were coming. I just made tea." Trinia's eyes widen and her eyebrows raise, "ooh, I love tea." Laori responds, giggling, "well, I hope you like mine, it's my secret weapon for making new friends," and the elf winks at Trinia, who chuckles to herself. Laori turns and enters in, gesturing for the others to follow, but stops in the foyer.

She grows a little more serious and says, "so, I have... two more people from my church here. One, you haven't met before, but... weirdly, I think you may have met the other? Lots of coincidences... but I don't want to spoil the surprise. I will say - just, you know..." she's searching for the right words, "so, not everyone in my church is... well, like me! Don't hold it against them, if you can, please? As a favor?" She seems somehow to steel herself, and the party enters sort of a shared living room in the suite.

Standing at attention is a chelaxian man with a disdainful expression and his chin held high. He wears black-and-red clothing, including a spotless hakama. At his side, her arm on her shoulder, is a beautiful, dark-skinned humanoid with, bloody chains wrapped around her body, serving as a sort of armor, obviously some sort of velstrac outsider. She seems to have a mischievous smirk on her face. Respecfully, the man inclines his head.

Standing next to him is a familiar face for some. Wearing his own set of spiked black armor, though this being much heavier and more ornate, but unhelmeted, is their former companion Krovax. He is as pale as he was before, but his hair is cut close to his head. Dark circles surround his eyes, and he has something of a haunted look about him, as well as plenty of scars on his face. He looks down when he sees everyone, and then looks back up, and there's a fleeting expression... shame, fear? Whatever it is, Krovax seems uncomfortable, somehow. RP for Kali when SL is free. In particular, he seems adverse to meeting Kaliyah's eyes.

Laori points first at the unknown man, "this is Shadowcount Sial, of Nidal, and his eidolon companion Asyra." Pointing at Krovax, she says, "and I think you know Krovax, right?" She smiles, and says, "let me start the tea while you introduce yourselves and get caught up." She moves to the small kitchen area, and starts making some tea and a snack, though she whispers to Magda first, about cookies, and if she has any.

Shadowcount Sial steps forward and bows slightly, extending his hand. Speaking slowly and carefully, the man says, in a nidalese accent, "good afternoon. Laori has said many glowing things about you, including some... perhaps, useful things about your endeavor, yes?" He pauses, "useful to ours, at least." He gestures towards the comfortable looking seating and asks for everyone to sit, "please, sit. Nidal is not paying for these rooms for us to stand uncomfortably. Our space is yours, as long as you are here."

With no further preparation needed, Shale nods and starts pulling his cart, saying only ”follow.” He hands each person in the group a small amulet slotless item though. This amulet is a small crystal at the end of a simple leather thong. It glows brightly from within, shedding light equivalent to that of a torch. One of the other Duskwardens explains that if anyone clutches it, they can summon the closest duskwardens within one mile, once per day. The party accepts these and they and the other travelers start moving along into the winding path.

Inside the tunnels, the path’s terrain changes regularly. Just beyond the Twisted Door, the tunnel appears to be natural stone, worked in places to widen it but otherwise the sort of thing subterranean water flow might carve anywhere. As it climbs, however, this impression quickly gives way to regions clearly influenced by man or beast. Crudely carved corridors bearing primitive cave paintings, ornate masonry with elaborate frescoes, labyrinthine passages with all but the appropriate corridors blocked by rock falls, mirror-smooth tubes where only sand spread on the floor by the path’s guardians allows enough traction to move—the composition of the regions the path passes through seems to change like strata in the rock. One thing, however, unifies every section of the path: the careful brickwork of the Duskwardens, closing off side passages and heavily reinforcing those existing natural barriers between the Halflight Path and the rest of the subterranean realm.

As the group approaches every junction like this, Shale says quietly, in a low rumble, ”quiet.” Surprisingly, Trinia complies easily - while she’s been relatively chatty up to the twisted door, she seems to take the instructions of the guide quite seriously. The same cannot be said of a young human man in richly adorned garb, who smirks to himself and seems to be laughing off the admittedly brief ministrations of their guide. After the first such, incident, where the young chelaxian cupped his hands and said ”hellooooo…” to a bricked up passage (one clearly carved with intent Shale frowned and listened carefully, only shaking his head. Shale’s demeanor seems to garden, if such a thing were possible. The man, Adrian, seems to be trying somehow to ‘impress’ the group by showing off a carefree attitude (or something) but it seems to fall flat.

The second such passage, he sidles up to it and knocks on the heavy masonry, listening for an echo, with a smirk. Shale moves to Adrian and forcibly grabs him, his voice louder, but still low, like an earthquake, ”foolish”. With some rope, Shale grabs the man and with remarkable strength and speed, ties him up. With one arm he lifts the man up and tosses him into the cart. Too stunned to respond, Adrian, gawks at the indignity. Shale lifts up a finger to his grey lips and asks, ”quiet?”. With the other hand he retrieves a handkerchief, and the implication of the consequences of disobedience become clear.

Suddenly, there is a sound from the other side of the wall. A faint knocking, eerily mimicking the same pattern that Adrian had used.

Slightly frowning, he looks back at Adrian, who shakes his head, his eyes pleading, and Shale nods. Returning to the front of the cart, he starts pulling away even as the knocking continues.

As the party leaves, they hear a faint murmuring coming from behind them, but it could be a trick of the windy caves, or the sound of running water. It soon dissipates as Shake hurries away, the extra weight in the cart barely slowing him down.

********

At one point the path even opens up. Shale moves to the man in the cart and forcibly gags him, tying it around his head, despite his protestations. Shale points at his eyes and says harshly, ”path. only” and the party starts to pass through what appears to be a section of an ornate and abandoned city filled with doors, each carefully locked and barred.

Aru, Mags, and Marcus seem to become slightly distracted, though they generally keep plodding on. Trinia watches Aru, hesitates, and then seems to decide something. She approaches Shale to whisper something to him.

The stoic man seems to be considering something, and then he nods. Trinia inhales slowly and starts to tap out a beat on her armor with her finger, a rasping noise that breaks the silence. The sound is rhythmic, like a primitive instrument, soothing, but blending into the natural sounds of the cavern. With a start, the three that were distracted break their reverie, their minds clear. Shale nods as she keeps playing for the rest of their time in the deserted city.

They’ve almost left the city when they hear a rattling noise behind them, growing louder and louder, like a cascade, as if every door in the city is rattling in hits hinges, the rattling growing closer and closer.

Shale grits his teeth and plods on, though the party seems to notice he’s slightly more energetic, and as they pass into the hall, a squeaking noise echoes in the cavern. Unmistakably it is the sound of a door opening. A door at the other end of the city. And then another door opens. And another. Shake inhales and exhales, and through gritted teeth says only ”run” Trinia stops playing and nods, and the party does as instructed. Up, up, up, the party travels. Switching back and forth until Shale finally slows down. He listens and shakes his head, looking at everyone curiously, and says ”locked.”

When at last the travelers emerge, sweating and out of breath, they do so in a bunker-like structure of stone and mortar just a stone’s throw outside the Warren, allowing easy entrance to the city. Shale grunts as he retrieves Adrian and ungaggs and unties him, and the young man, ego bruised, glares at the seemingly ageless oread. Shale taps his head and shakes it, then moves to whisper something to one of the other Duskwardens on guard who looks at Adrian, and approaches him, ”sir, you are banned from travel on the halflight path for a period of one year. Best of luck.” He retrieves a notebook and starts writing down things, and annoyed, Adrian pushes through the line of people waiting and disappears into the city.

His work complete, Shale collects the ensorcelled pendants from each traveler and bids them ”good day,” then immediately prepares to ferry any amassed travelers looking to make the reverse trip down to the cliff’s foot.

The party starts hiking up the path as the morning ends, and joins a handful of other travelers doing the same. They soon finds themselves staring at an extraordinary sight. Ancient beyond reckoning, these immense double-doors are covered in runes of an unknown language and take their name from a strange and subtle warping of their edges, which seem to rotate at strange angles yet still fit together without a gap. In a phenomenon frequently studied by visiting scholars, any given edge on the gate appears perfectly straight, yet as the observer follows it with his gaze, he finds his eyes have somehow turned, and what was once an outside edge is now inside.

Standing in front of the gate are a pair of tidy-looking humanoids in dark grey leathered armor. Each has a pack full of adventuring gear, including belays, rope, and other climbing equipment at their feet. They have bandoliers with a number of vials and other accoutrements, and human at the front has a notebook which he has open, something particularly useful given that there is a short line behind him, facing the doors.

The other guard, a dwarf, has a small, ridged shield, and a sharp pick at his side and seems to be looking over her shoulder at the entrance to the proper trail. There are about a dozen travelers of various ages standing nearby speaking amongst each other,

The party moves to stand in line, and after a few minutes, a gaggle of travelers emerge from around a corner on the trail, lead by a yet another dusky-armored half-elven woman. She inclines her head and says to the people following her, with a slight smile, ”safe travels, may the City of Strangers welcome you again.” She approaches the human man, and dusting herself off, retrieves a vial and takes a drink - some small scratches on her neck heal, and the young woman winces before sighing in relief. She moves over to a nearby bench and sits down, drinking some water from a canteen.

The human man says to the people assembled nearby, ”well, Duskwarden Lydia has to take a short break, and she will lead you through the halflight path.” It seems the party will have to wait until the next ‘round’, whenever that is. After the half-elven woman has had time to rest, she stands up, and cheerfully says to those standing near the gate, ”well - I trust you’re all ready to go. Come along, I’ll help you if I can - but it’s always best if you can help yourselves.” She appraises everyone, and takes a pack from an older traveler, hefting it on her shoulder seeming without effort. She looks around, ”well? Come on. Spread the load. Help each other.” She gestures at the confused travelers, who don’t all seem to know each other, until it’s clear she means that they strongest among them should help the weakest. Once the loads have been satisfactorily distributed, she claps her hands, ”well done! Now, on to my rules. You’ve already gotten the general….” and her voice starts to trail off as she turns around the corner, the travelers in her party following dutifully.

The man seems to start calling people in line forward, and the party has a scant few minutes to wait before he reaches them. He has a lockbox out, and is writing on a small ledger. He takes down the party’s names (or pseudonyms if they want) and offers to contact next-of-kin for a small fee. Otherwise, the cost is two gold per person.

Seeing as the price is trivial, the party pays and joins six others in front of them and one behind, to wait at the bench. The dwarf wanders over, ”Right, I’m Duskwarden Marigold. Here’s the rules: one, the Duskwarden is the boss on the halflight.” She looks over who’s assembled, ”maybe you can take care of yourselves. Maybe not. Those are the rules though. Two, stay on the path, except where this contradicts rule 1. Three, you don’t touch anything, don’t listen to anything, and just… don’t do anything disruptive - except when doing so would prevent you from violating rules one and two. Easy, right?” Her gaze lingers on the we’ll-equipped adventurers, ”last year we lost 5 travelers. Only five. All of them violated one of the rules or another. They’re there for your protection. We vow not to abandon you unless the cause is hopeless - but the undercity can be brutal and unfair, and hopeless can happen. Got it?” She waits for everyone to at least meet her eye, and she nods, ”should be no more than an hour until Shale gets here. Until then, prepare as you’d like.” She wanders back over to her spot and keeps guarding.

It isn’t more than 45 minutes before an oread man comes down from the path leading another group. He seems much more taciturn than Lydia and doesn’t seem to be injured. His craggy, rocky skin is unblemished beyond what seems normal, though having never seen an oread before, the party has no frame of reference for this. He’s pulling a cart, and a few children and an older woman step off gingerly, and he appraises everyone, ”who needs cart.” His voice is accented, and has a slight trill to certain letters, as he looks around. None of the travelers seem to be particularly disabled, and he nods, ”good. Empty cart. Ready?”

Zen wakes up with a start, ”wuh…?” and tries to make himself presentable when the others introduce themselves, ”uh, sorry. My name is Zenobius.” and he steels himself obviously to exert patience when listening to Nadja.

Perception/Society: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28

When she finishes, he turns to the others with a plated fist with some water insiflde, adding, ”for my part, I’m just a sandpoint guard, you know? But we ended up helping a few other folks down there and managed to make some friends along the way. It isn’t as bad as everyone says…”

Kali holds up a hand, and moves to lower Marcus’ bow. ”Hey, just - hold on,” she comments as she watches the hippogriffs float over lazily. They pass over the party, and swoop around - circling for a moment before descending, and then landing cautiously on a patch of grass nearby.

The three hippogriffs fold their wings, and one seems to be smaller than the others. Kaliyah looks with a start and says quietly, to herself, ”Falcor?”

She blinks rapidly, and starts to approach the three slowly, hands extended outwards. One of the hippogriffs seems to have scars in various places - missing feathers, and one milky eye. The other eye peers at Kaliyah, and claws at the ground, making a quiet cry, ”kreeeew”

Kaliyah turns back to everyone, ”it - it’s Falcor! My old hippogriff!” She turns back and keeps approaching slowly. The other hippogriff regards her warily, and the smaller one - with wonder, snorting for a moment before it scrambles behind Falcor, obviously nervous.

Will let the interlude play out more when SL is available, just wanted to move on.

*************

The remainder of the trip to Kaer Maga is uneventful, but the looming cliff of the storval plateau is unmistakable as the height grows and grows with every passing step. In short order, the overhanging City of Strangers becomes more than a blemish on the otherwise rocky natural cliff wall, and it becomes omnipresent in the party’s field of view.

The party joins a path leading to one of a few different ways up, and sees more travelers and signs of habitation than they have otherwise encountered in their recent travels. Folks seem to be traveling towards and from Kaer Maga, and while not aggressive, they aren’t particularly friendly. They are mostly humans and halflings, but the ‘accepting’ nature of the city shows its nature with a handful of other, more exotic folk, use your imagination, but… including at least one small bearded troll - wearing a set of robes and jewelry, and holding a staff - as he hobbles along, attended by what appear to be human servants.

The party has only a small understanding of the nature of how to access the city, though Aru has visited once or twice before from atop the plateau (in a former life), access from the bottom is a different story.

The cliffs of the storval have guides that will help travelers ascend and descent - a motley crew of different people of various ancestries that eke out a living in the tough environment (which seems to be getting tougher - it seems to grow more arid, and there’s a warm wind blowing down on the party from the Cinderlands which turns the lush, verdant moors into something more akin to a craggy plain).

The party spies a switchbacked path which winds its way up, below the city, though it seems to disappear after a while, and Aru points out that he’s at least vaguely familiar with the city faction that manages this path - the Duskwardens.

Nestled at the base of the slightly tapered cliff, the party approaches a fork in the path, with a sign generously noting that to the south the lies the Yondabakari path (50 miles to Kaer Maga), and forward, the Halflight Path - the visible, switching one, that is 4 miles to Kaer Maga (you can choose how you ascend).

PCs who make a DC 20 geography check also know, helpfully, there’s another path up the Storval cliff - a mere 350 miles away is the Storval Stairs, past turtleneck ferry, the sword, etc.

Wide enough to accommodate entire caravans in single file, the trail begins at the foot of the cliff directly beneath Kaer Maga, where a small but well-maintained wagon trail splits off from the river road and terminates at a bronze gate which folks who make a DC 15 geography check know is called the Twisted Door an intriguing sight that is barely visible - shrouded by irregular cliff walls.

The 50 miles includes the distance to the river path, up, and back. Where to?

Hi, I’ve been a bit busy, but I agree with Thorek for my part. I’d be happy to keep playing. I certainly have tried enough times - so many I almost think this module is cursed for me!

If we can find another GM it would be great.

Zen sighs and mumbles to the ogre, ”sorry…” and pats Najda on the shoulder, healing her lay on hands for his first focus spent, Nadja heals 18 and gets +2 AC. Also, he used his reaction last turn to reduce the damage by 8, and also make the ogre enfeebled 2.

He then says to the ogre, ”just stop - lay down your weapon and maybe we can talk this out.” To enforce that, he gestures and tries to punish the ogre for fighting more. Litany against wrath, you know the deal, DC 21 Will.

Then he summons his glass shield, ”trust me - it isn’t worth it.” He raises the magical device cautiously and hopes the ogre listens to reason.

Korvosa Hinterlands Map you can use.

Neolandus shakes his head, "the wilds - keep to the wilds. We can't be seen, not even in Harse, not until we get to the ranch." Vencarlo rummages through some of the things he has in his reclaimed bag, and retrieves a small, dull silver amulet which he hands to his friend. "this'll prevent scrying, and such." The seneschal nods and puts it on. So, the party travels north across the grassland and low hills towards Harse, through the wilds. Harse is about 45 miles away, so I'll assume a speed of 30 while traveling, or, about 5.5 days.

The trip is uneventful, though camping is not particularly pleasant, somehow Neolandus had some hidden skill at surviving in the wilds and food and water are sufficient, though roughing it certainly is not what the party is used to. Soon they reach the place where the Sarwin River merges with the Falcon River.

Venarlo retrieves a disguise kit, and says "okay - we will use the ferry service, but break up our crossing according to a random schedule." It's clear he's thought carefully during the trip about how to get to the Blackbird Ranch. "There are guard patrols, and we can't be seen." He gestures towards Kaliyah, "I assume you can take care of the matter on your own?" as he smiles slightly.

Soon enough, the identifying armor and weapons are all packed away as everyone prepares out of sight of the road and ferry. Vencarlo retrieves a set of dice, and rolls them a few times, thinking carefully. He points at various people and assigns them roles, "you, a newlywed couple." to Marcus and Magda, "Kaliyah, you're taking your aunt on a pilgrimage" and to Aru, "the three of us are merchants. We're going to stagger our crossing by a few hours each. Here are the disguises." His kit has some rubber noses, makeup, wigs, and other things, and he's soon able to get everyone situated, though he leaves Kaliyah to resolve the disguise on her own. People do not look much like each other.

Following his advice, the party passes through the ferry and through Harse. They make their presence known, and join up again at the outskirts, off of the road and head north of the village.

After the organization, but still wearing the disguises, a thirty-minute walk north of town along the Sarwin river finds the party at a moderately sized horse ranch sitting comfortably in the cleft of two low hills topped with small copses of fir trees. This is Blackbird Ranch. Near the entrance is a barrel-chested man with black hair and mutton-chops, wearing suspenders. Next to him stands a woman in her early-teens with short, blond hair, and an infectious grin, unmistakably Trinia Sabor, though she seems to be somewhat better 'equipped' she seems to be wearing some fancy armor and magic items and has a few scars on her arms, and a small one on her face and neck. She waves slightly at everyone as they approach, and whispers something to the man she's near, who nods.

The man cheerfully calls over, "ahh, y'all must be interested in those horses - come, come, sit a spell and rest your bones, and we can have a discussion." He gestures for everyone to follow. Trinia seems tight-lipped, uncharacteristically, and the party follows Jasan into the barn. He quickly points out a few of his horses that seem young and sturdy, and starts to haggle a bit with the 'merchant' that is Vencarlo, and eventually Jasan sighs, "not gonna be figured out now, maybe some dinner will help. C'mon down into my basement - my dining room ain't big enough, but it's cozy enough down there." He introduces everyone to his wife, who's in the kitchen making supper. With her is the other young woman the party saved, Bethany, who's eyes widen when she sees everyone. Trinia puts her finger to her lips and winks at the other girl, who blinks rapidly, and looks away. Jasan moves over to his wife, and embraces her, and the woman nods, and speaks to Bethany, and the girl turns away. Jasan leads the party downstairs into a large basement with a few overstuffed couches around a low table, along with a long table that has a number of chairs. Once everyone is inside, he closes the doors, shakily, and exhales slowly.

Jasan looks uncomfortable, and grimaces at Vencarlo, who pats him on the shoulder, and turns to the party, "erm - by chance, does anyone have a few... hundred?" He turns to Jasan again, who nods, "500" and Vencarlo turns back, "500 ... gold for our friend, here. He lined all of his basement walls, carefully with lead. Hidden behind panels and such. We can speak freely here, finally." Jasan moves towards the table and motions for the others to sit. Trinia also heads down the basement stairs and performatively flops into one of the couches, resting as she waits for the party to get their bearings.

Vencarlo pats himself down, "I'm afraid what's left of my money went up in smoke with the academy, apologies".

Wiping her tears away, Vera nods, and Majenko does a flip into the air.

Vencarlo also approaches Vera, and nods his head, extending a hand respectfully. "Thank you, young lady. You've already done so much for me, and for the people of Korvosa. This is not the end, I think, but perhaps just another beginning. We will see each other again." He moves his other hand to embrace her for a hug, and then steps aside for Neolandus to also shake her hand. "If it were not for people like you and your mother, miss, we would have been in much worse circumstances. I expect Cressida will be able to help you in your mission, so if you see her, please give her my regards." Vencarlo nods in agreement, and Vera inhales and exhales slowly. After hugging her best friend again, she shakily gathers her things, and puts a hood and scarf over her head. A moment later, she gestures, and her appearance changes to look like a chelaxian peasant, shimmering, "okay - I've got a little walk back to the city, so I'll come up with a cover identity on the way. Good luck! I'll keep tabs on you when I can."

With that, Vera Esmeranda steps away, and begins to make her way along the shore of the Jeggare, back to Korvosa.

Vencarlo turns to the others, "well, an unfortunate development, she will be missed. Let's get to Harse quickly, or at least, away from the shore, before camping. If we hustle, we could stay at an inn a few hours away as well." He leads the way, along with Neolandus, and the pair walk silently for a while, before the pair drop back and - once they are about a mile away from the city, begin to ask a little about the developments in the city, and what happened recently. Recall they've been imprisoned long enough not to be up to speed, for example, they did not know Marcus Endrin was even 'assassinated'.

Feel free to roleplay explaining what happened, or not. As the party explains, Neolandus grows introspective and concerned, as if he's thinking carefully, and starts to ask specific questions about how the Queen acted, and what others in the city were doing - such as the Red Mantis (how they dressed, etc), but in general I will assume the party tries to fill them in with information, even if the players don't remember everything.

Vera has more confidence than before, and each person in the crew draws one of the cards from the hammers suit. She nods as each person draws one, particularly noting ”Kali - whatever happened, it seems that this card actually reflects you now, as you are … now.” She seems slightly uncomfortable- ”your heart has mended somewhat, despite what you’ve gone through. The Keep represents safety of a sort, unshakable to threat.”

She points at Magda, ”this is the Big Sky, which is freedom from bondage. I think the Harrow means to try to get you to connect to other spirits, Mags, you know, not just the city. This looks like it’s particularly important!”

She looks at Marcus’ card, and says ”The Paladin. Standing against adversity. If there’s one thing that we can count on, it’s you standing strong!”

Yazi has the Bear, and Vera chuckles, ”and of course Yazi, you’re so strong - the Bear represents using overwhelming strength.”

She steps over to the brooding Aru and lays a hand on his shoulder, ”the cyclone. You must be having a turbulence of emotions. We must be heading somewhere that will be particularly difficult for you.” She looks at Neolandus, who looks back, and shakes his head slightly, only saying ”not now.” Vera has a small amount of precognitive ability due to her harrowing skills.

Vera tries to draw a card herself, and when she draws it, it isn’t the same suit. Confused, she draws another, with a similar effect. ”Oh…”. She swallows once, and frowns a little. ”I don’t think I’m supposed to go with you guys this time.” She raises her head to look at Zellara, ”but m… mom, they need me!”

Zellara looks at her daughter, ”do not look to me. I am not responsible for the harrow. It seems you may be needed elsewhere. Try to divine where.”

Blinking rapidly, she retrieves the cards and expertly shuffles them again and again, laying out a tableau.

Pointing to the leftmost column, she exhales, ”okay, remember that these represent the past. This reading will only be useful if it represents our past.”

She taps the first card in the top left, an upside-down The Cyclone card, ”this is misaligned, so normally The Cyclone is about perseverance. In this case, it’s about renewal - after a trial. So our renewal after we dealt with Lamm.”

She moves her finger down, ”this is The Betrayal, but the Traditional Meaning - selfishness leads to ruin. It is a reflection perhaps of how the selfishness of people in Korvosa lead to the ruin of the Blood Plague. It was only through a deconstructed selfishness, a generosity, that we were able to create and distribute a cure. This was a partial match - as these cards.” she gestures towards this one and the one below, ”are supposed to represent the past.”

Her finger continues to trail down, ”again, another partial match, but this time badly misaligned.” The card is upside down, ”in the top row, it references a kind of success. Here, it’s inverted. Specifically, loss brings bad tidings. But we succeeded, didn’t we?” She looks up at everyone, ”we saved the Seneschal, didn’t we sir?”

Neolandus shrugs and looks confused, ”I don’t know, young lady.” Vencarlo smirks, ”well, I lost my studio, but that’s not that bad. Maybe we shouldn’t have let …Meliya go? The Arkonas lost Bahor - that seems like the biggest ‘loss’ but I would think the city is better off.” Vera frowns, ”well, it’s showing something, since it’s in the right spot - but I can’t say what, I guess.”

She taps the center column, ”perhaps you recall these represent our present. This at the top, is… it’s Kali’s card! With a true match! Traditionally aligned, it means the prophecy is true. And usually this represents a good prophecy. So, Kali, keep an eye out for any other diviners. Or maybe I can do an augury for you?” She shrugs, as if to say it’s up to you.

She moves her hand down, ”another true match, the Twin. It shows a duality of purpose. And since this is my… I mean it’s ours, but I’m the one doing it, often the harrow card here reflects the harrower. I always thought my purpose was to help you directly, but perhaps I have some other. Ishani? Is he in trouble?” She looks nervously at the deck, inhales, then exhales slowly, and nervously picks up the top card. Revealing it, it is the Midwife. Vera looks pained, and says only, ”okay…” She collects herself, and retrieves a handkerchief, and blows her nose, ”mom - I don’t want… he’ll be fine. They need me for the harrowing.”[b] Zellara’s translucent finger taps the deck, [b]”focus on what will happen if you do not return.” Vera pauses, and retrieves the next card, gasping when it reveals The Avalanche. ”The Queen! She’s going to take him! I have to stop her! I have to warn him!” She looks at everyone else and puts her thumbnail into her mouth, gnawing nervously, ”so it’s true. I can’t leave Korvosa.” She looks at Magda, ”but you have to! This isn’t fair… this … this is bullshit!” Vera’s cheery demeanor deflates immediately and she’s angry, ”Mags, I need you. I can’t … “

Majenko is watching everything, and the little dragon seems more morose than any other time since he was captured by Devargo Barvasi. He pipes up, ”yes. Is not fair. Is want to stay with Magda friend and eat cakes with her and visit Dokren and Dafne.” He rests his head against her cheek, nuzzling it. ”but what yous wants and what Is wants is not what wes gets, best friend Vera. Yous need to save yours boyfriend. Yous love him, yes? Is know this true because yous my best friend.”

Vera looks miserable, and she sniffs, and starts to cry, quietly, tears running down her cheeks.

The harrowing isn’t done yet.

Vimanda adds, ”and… call me Meliya. Vimanda is not the name I am known by. I am not so foolish as to threaten you, but knowing even part of my hidden name gives you power over me. All I remind you is that we share a number of common goals - I cannot help you if any what transpired becomes public.”

She turns to Vera, ”I understand you court a Vudrani priest? Let me explain the fastest way to his heart…” and she spends a few minutes explaining in detail various customs that the Vudrani have which even a well-learned Varisian would have no knowledge of.

Afterwards, she excuses herself and retrieves a few potions from the storeroom, and begins administering them to the servants as the party looks around for some of Bahor’s things to take as payment. The rings Vimanda took were symbolic rings of station, not worth anything.

Bahor says, ”well? Is there a deal to be made, or not?” Vimanda hisses, ”yes - a one-time offer. Return to Vudra, and never return. I will not be under your heel any longer. You can be secure in the knowledge that I have powerful allies,” she gestures at the party, ”at least for a time,” Bahor snarls, ”is that all? How kind, sister. I suppose you will ask for the moon, next. And your so-called friends? They spoke extensively of betraying you. In fact, the invisible one said that it would be best to let us fight it out. Fine. So be it. I drop my protection,” Something shimmers and the rakshasas shudder, ”I was always your better in a fight - and this cycle bores me!”

Roaring, he charges at Vimanda, I assume at least some readied actions go off, but if not, the scene changes only a little.

As Bahor tries to attack, his sister dodges out of the way, and the exhausted tiger-headed monster stumbles. His sister catches him by the throat, and holds him up, but Bahor’s claws can do little to dislodge her grip. He struggles, coughing and choking, and with a flick of her wrist, Vimanda plunges the holy blade into the gut of the Rakshasa, like a knife through soft butter, the flesh parts and blood erupts from his mouth. The light begins to spread within Bahor creeping up, and he starts to scream - one of anguish, and his sister drives the waveblade in further.

She draws his face closer to hers, ”you thought you knew everything, brother, but hubris was always your downfall.” The elder rakshasa looks terrified, and starts to plead, weakly, ”no, no, I’m sorry, I’m - “ and she tightens her grip.

Vimanda look him in the eyes, and says, ”Pathetic.” With a final twist, the blade pushes upward, into Bahor’s heart, and the golden light moves quickly, spreading across his form and then erupting from his eyes, ears, and mouth. With a grunt, Vimanda tosses the body aside as if it weighed nothing more than paper, and the body convulses for a moment, her blade lodged inside his torso.

It only takes a moment, but the light consumes Bahor, burning his form away to smoke and dust, leaving only clothes, jewlery, and her waveblad which clatters to the ground.

Vimanda looks down at the silks, and back up at the party, before reaching in and retrieving the holy weapon. With a wince, she picks it up, grimacing, and puts it into her silks. ”I am free, thanks to you all. What will happen now, I wonder?”

Let's scout the old dwarven Masonry first? The morlocks likely took up in the ruins of the dwarven building, and the unworked stone likely heads away from the ruins.

Kela laughs, "go in peace? خنزير لا قيمة له, lay down your weapons. You should have thought better before you attacked a woman twice your size and eight times your better." She grins, "please give me an excuse to crush your head like a ripe melon," and she keeps her bow trained on him.

Grenwold nods at Thorek’s words, ”Shelyn loves the beauty that comes from the Dwarves. Your people are masters, and these statues are no exception.” While they break to briefly converse with the statues and each other, he takes a drink of water, and then retrieves a small slate with a spring-powered clip that he attaches to the harness. Retrieving the maps they found earlier, with a delicate script and careful hand, the gnome continues his own map of the valley and environs on durable vellum. Some of the dark ink stains his fingers briefly, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He makes a small amount of progress, but it remains unfinished as he lets the ink and paint dry briefly for a moment.

Nope, specifically it only prevents only strength-based skill checks and things that cause constitution checks, like holding breath.

Kela’s brow furrows, ”oh. Good.” Her mouth is a thin line at the mental assault, but she nods, ”yeah. You have to hit them.” She starts looking around for the guy’s stuff, but not before she retrieves her spell component pouch and fastening it to her belt. ”If you can’t find another pouch, fast - let’s move on. I have a solid guess about where these شياطين بائسة are.”

By fast, Kela means within rounds.

I just wanted to let you know thanks much for your efforts, we appreciate it.

Ten ogres - I doubt we can negotiate. Might be easier if we just went straight at them with as much surprise as we can muster. The only other reason to scout more would be if we thought there was another enemy hidden, and we wanted to prepare. Otherwise, I don’t even know if it’s worth the resources of an invisibility. @Everyone Want to just move into the town and go after them? We should have some element of surprise, depending on how perceptive they are. I definitely would give myself heightened awareness, Thorek feather step, and hand out broken wing gambit and outflank, but if they’re ogres it might not take much more in terms of resources. If everyone wants me to scout, I will, but it might make Valeyan’s life easier if we just went after them. Just a thought!

Note, Valeyan, that Gren also is pretty careful about tracking too - he’ll take 10 for 36 as they go until it gets unfeasible. Looking for signs of non-ogres. If there’s nothing, don’t worry about it - I’m happy to move on and get to fighting.

It doesn't sound like we have a mechanism to use the Standard at the moment. My PC could switch to reach weapons, but it would take time. She has none on her. Someone else could carry it, otherwise. Shall we move on?

Kela looks it over, curiously. "Interesting. Perhaps the other towers will have something similar. However, we should be on guard - we were careless here - there may be more undead or Divs." She retrieves a few more oils of bless weapon and hands one to Marius.

Previously we used 2, so iirc we have 4 left (for Marius and Kela). The archers should be able to get along with the holy weapon balm as long as they use magic weapons for incorporeal plus cold iron for divs. I'm not sure if Barcos used a balm last time, but we have 4 more available if he didn't. Otherwise I think we have to re-apply.

We are probably close to running out of time for mirror image - Kela still hasn't been attacked, but at best we have 2-3 minutes left on the duration. We still have magic circle up, I think centered on Kela, but she'll flick the wand of protection for Rose to refresh it as well.

On second thought, @Aaron noted we have no idea how big the valley is, so it might be best to hold off until we have a little more information before we start expending all of our resources. If the camp ends up empty, we don’t know how long it will take to get to the next section, and I don’t want to be out of resources when we need them, and it doesn’t look like anyone else is doing any short term preparation, so please ignore the last paragraph of my above post (where I was “thinking” about some buffs). Instead of that, when we are a moment away, I’ll toggle wand heightened awareness.

Before they move too close, Gren looks around at the center of the valley, in the entrance, hops off of Ringo, and touches the ground. He hops back on, and taps his head. "Mental alarm. The passphrase is ceirw; sylvan for deer."

Otherwise, when the others comment, he nods without saying anything, and breaks off from the others. He seems to flitting through the undergrowth quickly, and stays hidden.

Not much point rolling a perception given Thorek's impressive result, so please assume Gren/Ringo move half speed (60/2 = 30) while taking 10 on stealth and perception, and when building a map, if possible, assume he starts in a bush or something equivalent. If not possible, then assume he's not bunched up - if the party can be spread out.

Ringo is starting defensive - turtle and stag focuses up, which I think is his general default.

Thinking of doing my suite of 10 min/level buffs now, possibly extending one or two. Ringo's reduce animal has about 16.5 more hours, and shield companion has 6.5 more hours. Thinking of extended shared training on Thorek + anyone else who wants to scrap (3 hours), regular freedom of movement on self (1.5 hours), drinking the barkskin infusion (1.8ish hours), and giving feather step to anyone who can't fly or who otherwise would like to ignore difficult terrain (Ringo already ignores most of it). Gren can also do resist energy with a 1st level slot, but would prefer to use those castings when/if we get some idea of an elemental damage to be concerned about.

Lola nods thankfully at Isabet, and enters the chamber with the others to speak to Veena, choosing her words carefully. Thanking Isabet again, she starts, ”sincerely - we appreciate your time. Evidence has led us to believe the city of Vigil, and perhaps all of Lastwall, finds itself on the precipice of doom,” her words are sincere, measured and calm, but there’s obvious tension in them, ”we have uncovered a plot by a mercenary or thief group, the Six Wise Crows, to do the bidding of the Whispering Way -“ she hesitates as if she considers explaining further, then plows forward, ”and use a terrible weapon on the city - the same weapon that was not long ago used on the hamlet of Roslar’s Coffer.” She lets the words settle, ”we believe this because we are refugees of the coffer; we helped shut down some of their plot - some - and we tracked a conspirator to the city, and we’ve been running around for the entire day - trying to find them, collect evidence, and perhaps retrieve … something - a shard of an artifact - that may be used to prevent the tragedy from repeating itself. Here -“ She gestures, hoping to get the papers to show to Veena, From her own pack or others and hands them over.

She finishes, ”the artifact in question - the Shattered Shield of Arnisant - we believe it was stolen and replaced with a fake - within the last few … days?” She looks at the others questioningly, not sure of the timeline, then turns back to Verna. ”Venture Captain Evni Zongloss, Second Sword Knight Aylunna Varvatos, and Ranton Gandry have all been made aware - and have tried to aid us. We have been trying to track down the hero of the Belzken Front, and and knight of Ozem - some of whom have aided us - Ceto Malderra, but she remains elusive.” She takes a deep breath, ”can you, will you help us? Please?”

diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29

slam AOO: 1d20 + 12 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 12 - 4 = 23
fortune AOO: 1d20 + 12 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 12 - 4 = 21
Marcus isn't hit

Marcus connects with this blade and badly damages the elemental. 23 damage.

Vera throws some magic missiles at the elemental. mm: 5d4 + 5 ⇒ (1, 3, 3, 2, 4) + 5 = 18

Vimanda watches the exchange, but turns to the elephant, her waveblades slipping out of her silks as she readies herself. In short order, it animates, and turns to attack the party, but not before she tries to slice at it.

waveblade, BOF: 1d20 + 23 + 2 - 5 ⇒ (11) + 23 + 2 - 5 = 31
damage: 2d6 + 7 + 10 ⇒ (4, 6) + 7 + 10 = 27

The elephant trumpets loudly and proceeds to try and crush everyone!

Everyone (except Marcus (because the elephant stops near him) and Aru ( because he's flying)) decide if they want a reflex save or AOO. The DC is 25. The damage is Trample damage: 2d8 + 15 ⇒ (2, 7) + 15 = 24

Vimanda swings, waveblade, BOF: 1d20 + 23 + 2 - 4 - 5 ⇒ (10) + 23 + 2 - 4 - 5 = 26 waveblade damage: 2d6 + 7 + 10 ⇒ (5, 2) + 7 + 10 = 24 and hurts the elephant even more. Vencarlo, Neolandus, and Vera try to get out of the way. Vera Reflex: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 7 + 2 = 15 Vencarlo Reflex: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 10 + 2 = 22 Neolandus Reflex: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 7 + 2 = 13 but they take damage, and Vencarlo seems to avoid a little.

The three all spread out now on the map.

On the creature's back, within the Howdah, a creature that must have been invisible appears, with six snake arms. It hisses, and raises its arms angrily who curl and twist, hissing. Each arm is differently colored, and with viciousness, it tries to target randomly choosing, 1-Aru, 2-TGM, 3-Mags, 4-Marcus, 5-Vera, 6-Yazi): 1d6 ⇒ 6 Yazi with rays of energy damage.

Vencarlo exclaims, and moves to attack the elemental, he gestures, "Neo - the elephant, take it down!" and he stabs at the elemental.
slam AOO: 1d20 + 12 - 4 ⇒ (11) + 12 - 4 = 19
fortune AOO: 1d20 + 12 - 4 ⇒ (7) + 12 - 4 = 15
rapier: 1d20 + 14 + 2 - 3 ⇒ (16) + 14 + 2 - 3 = 29 damage: 1d6 + 5 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 5 + 6 = 16 The elemental disappates with Vencarlos's swing, and the swordmaster avoids getting punished for his attack.

Neolandus nods, and fires his bow twice at the elephant.
bow: 1d20 + 9 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 9 + 2 - 2 = 18
bow damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
bow: 1d20 + 9 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 9 + 2 - 2 = 13
bow damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 Neolandus manages to hit, with one of his makeshift arrows damaging the magically animated beast.

STATUS UPDATE: Elemental was killed by Vencarlo, Elephant is badly damaged, there's a marai on the Howdah (on the elephant's back)

Howdah You Get in Here? - Round 2 - Everyone/Baddies

Everyone is up!

Grenwold seems to have disappeared. He’s just hiding because he’s extremely paranoid.

stealth: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31

There’s tension in Lola’s voice, but she tries to reply in a measured way, ”in an abstract way, every hour we delay could mean the enemy comes one step closer to their plan coming to fruition. Maybe their plan is just to inflict undead. Maybe… Roslar’s Coffer… fuera una prueba” she searches for the word, ”maybe it was a test.”

She looks at the others, ”we have been through worse than tiredness,” she opens her hands widely, expressively, as she explains to Isabet, ”it is difficult to explain in words the horror of what the Tyrant unleashed - but I promise you,” and there’s an edge to her voice that isn’t quite fear. So far Isabet has seen Lola act remarkably blasé about the horrors they have seen. If she’s afraid of anything, it isn’t clear what it is. It’s a mixture of regret and anger; but if there is fear there, it seems to be borne of something primordial. The fear that a parent has for their child the first time they lose sight of them. The fear that a if only you had said the right thing, you would not have lost what’s most important to you. Lola’s voice is shaking, and she says quietly. ” Te prometo que. If we let something like that happen, well - please trust me. I have lived many lives. Regret can last an eternity.”

She looks Isabet in the eyes, and then Feena, ”we may not have another chance - I strongly believe we should try to warn the others - Ceto and Veena, of what we found, at least. Messengers could be intercepted by the Way, or worse, be their agents.”

Also, it’s not actually particularly late. I think we’ve only been adventuring a few hours.

Kela nods, ”we will see that your wounds are tended to as soon as we can, please do not worry yourself.” She keeps a low voice, ”let us go kill these انثي خنزير“ and readies herself to ambush the next enemy, staying close to Marius.

Following M’s lead since we can’t do much for this guy now.

Kela sighs, and mutters to herself, "I got all dressed up, and nobody invited me to the party." She kicks the div, and rests the greatsword on her shoulder. "yeah, clean the place out, before our spells expire."

She's disappointed she hasn't even had to roll for mirror image.

Grenwold sits still, and it's almost like a reflex, but he starts to blend into the background - his legs looking quite a bit like a bench, and his head and torso turning the slate gray of the walls. He scrunches up his face, shakes a bit, and whatever was happening disappates.

He blinks, and turns his head, peering towards Thorek. "Um," and he points at himself, "me?" He blushes a bit, "I guess. It's a little embarrassing." He purses his lips and his brow furrows, "I ask them not to call me that," and he opens his hands wide, "sorry."

Standing up, the little man brushes off some of the dirt on his legs, and looks down. His legs are even shorter than Thorek's, and the dull, battered breastplate under layers of camouflage seems to restrict his movement significantly. Nevertheless, he moves quietly, and with grace, towards the dwarf.

He is wearing a mottled green and brown bandana around his head, covering up hair that must have been bright green at some point - but had faded to look more like the forest itself - a verdant dark green that nearly matched his bandana. His skin is heavily tanned, a nut brown, though he wears a number of scars - evidence of significant fighting that healed with minimal healing magic. It was that, or Grenwold wanted to remember the scars - and chose to keep them for the memory. His eyes are dark green, and his ears are pointed, but his neck is barely visible - nearly covered by another bandana that he likely puts around his lower face - but is bunched up around his neck.

His outer clothes are otherwise somehow clean and well-maintained, but worn, and dusty, as if he had been doing manual labor recently. Despite the fact that none of his gear looks anything like a typical magic item, Thorek gets the sense that much of his gear is exceptional in some way or other, and a fair amount seems to have come from the Ironfang itself. These trophies seem to fit Grenwold fine, so they must have been originally sized for goblins - or appropriate to magic - resized to fit him. He carries an exceptionally sharp scimitar in a loose sheath on one hip, and what looks to be a silvery mace on the other. On his back appears to be a glaive that has serrated teeth. His boots are sturdy and steel-toed, but supple somehow, and he wears a simple wooden carving of a songbird, painted crudely in a panoply of colors, and hung on sturdy twine, around his neck.

He continues "my name is Grenwold, Sir. Cirieo said... um... that there were heroes of Longshadow here?" He looks over Thorek, "I'm guessing you're one of them?" He bows slightly, "if you would like my help with this Valley you want to investigate." He's a little stiff and formal when he says this, as of trying to adhere to a particular syntax or nicety. He straightens up, "um, me and my deer, of course. He's outside."