Silence looks at the statue warily, as if it just delivered a veiled insult. She grimaces and closes her eyes a moment, shifting her sight.
GM:
Cast detect magic, examine the urn and statue.
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I hope you stay, too. Although we may have had (silent) disagreements on style, as a player, I've enjoyed having you around. The "haters gonna hate" pose was classic, and greatly needed at that point. I think part of it is that yes, we're all a bunch of paranoid killers whose main defining characteristic is that we don't play well with others. This does complicate our ability to cooperate, far more than we would if we were a heroic party. But that's part of the challenge in this particular campaign. If dealing with a bunch of antisocial misfits on a daily basis isn't what you're looking for in a campaign, then yes, certainly, it's probably best to quit. This probably won't be the campaign for you. But let's face it: Spawn saved the group's bacon by being the distraction to end all distractions. His antics let Smoke get to where he was needed. I think he's going to be quite helpful in the future, and he won't need to be super-sneaky like everyone else. In Silence's mind, Spawn is kind of like the bomb you need to smuggle in. But come on, we've got a half-aquatic misanthrope, a deaf nobody, a blind face, and a loner alchemist. We aren't exactly an "I'm OK, you're OK" group of people. Trying to maintain party unity is indeed going to be a big piece of the campaign. If you look at it as a challenge to be overcome, you can have fun with it. But I understand if you'd rather not have that particular challenge. I hope you stay. As a character, you've proven your value. But yeah, that's not going to stop Csiza from scowling at you. Evil campaigns are difficult to manage, and this is one of the reasons why. As a player, I value your input.
It's why I recommended the path on the way to the arena. Blunt and coarse, but simple and straightforward.
Silence looks nearly disappointed at the lack of fanfare. Gauging the others' reactions, she shrugs and stands. She heads straight out the door with Smoke, with a smirk and playful curtsey.
Silence arrives, far more dour than thought possible.
I'm traveling this week with limited Internet access. Please feel free to NPC me as necessary.
Silence sees her opportunity and jumps the guard, attempting to muffle him and keep him from shouting.
Csiza crouches low and carefully peeks out into the hallway, thinking it odd that no one has come to investigate.
Silence carefully heads over to the door out, hiding beside it, and carefully looking around for any other way in or out, fully expecting someone to enter the room shortly to investigate.
My plan was to KO them all while they were asleep. I did not realize that nobody had any non-lethal weapons. C'est la vie. We always have our fists for 1d3+Str nonlethal.
In retrospect the road ambush was likely the bloodiest but simplest way of taking him out - but que sera sera. Next time, listen to the deaf-mute.
Silence rolls her eyes at the commotion and casts obscuring mist again at the window, fully expecting the room she enters to be filled with guards and servants near-instantly. She then squeezes through the window and finds a place to hide in the fog.
Thinking again, Silence returns the cash to the corpse and keeps the journal, just in case there is some special code she isn't aware of. She then looks to Spawn and points upward, toward the closed window Smoke passed through. Frowning, she attempts to climb to the window.
Silence secretes the journal into her outfit, knowing full well she will have to rid herself of connections to it later. The keys are of more import at this time. She casts Detect Magic and looks around for anything further--such as a gate or a way in or out.
Silence grabs the keys, cash, lantern, and journal. She hastily examines the keys and journal by the light of the lantern before shutting it off.
Silence shakes her head and continues her search of the guard, under the veil of mist.
Silence lets the others get their jollies while she searches this guard for keys or a decent enough uniform.
Silence drops over the downed guard, pulling her cloak over her face. Quickly dousing any light from the torch, a mist billows out from her form, concealing her and the guard from view.
Silence shakes her head, presenting her rope meaningfully. Silence watches as Squid and Spawn plan for a second attack. Rolling her eyes, she turns to Smoke, points to the guard's corpse and waves her hand in front of her face. She then scans the home for a way into the building from the courtyard.
Rope in hand, Silence gestures toward the guard, looking at Squid.
Are the guards carrying lanterns?
Silence checks her rope, shakes her head, gathers it into her hand, and looks at the others with an urgent shrug.
Finally making it over the wall, she scowls at her partners, and looks for a discreet place to tie off and conceal her rope for easier climbing out later.
Cursing her own inability to deal with walls, Silence takes her silk rope into her hand and tries to loop it onto a barb as she climbs.
Silence starts with a Detect Magic to scan for wards before attempting to join Squid over the wall.
Have we seen any magic in place? Silence writes.
Okay, we'll do the house.
I'm here. Just had a long weekend, is all.
Silence prepares her slate with the following information. Ranch: Hard to reach, easy to be seen on the way. No weapons allowed, the gladiators use wood. Surrounded by wooden wall. There are overseers, but more for looking inside instead of out. Best attack point: on the path to the ranch, outside the city.
Silence observes the parting group, erases the slate, and heads out into the evening. She heads over to the ranch to observe the goings on, and who stays at the ranch at night. She writes I am deaf on her slate and hangs it over her neck, but keeps it hidden unless asked. Stealth:
Silence shakes her head at the increasingly heated back-and-forth. She slams down her slate with a BAM. She marks out three sections on the slate, and labels them Café, Ranch, and Home. She marks the Ranch with an X. She then steps back, inviting everyone else to mark her slate.
Keep the damage low. We have one and only one to kill. The others must not know who we are.
I didn't hear that.
I will visit the café, Silence writes. But many will be distracted at the gladiatorial ranch. People will watch him at the café, but he will receive far less attention during a gladiatorial match--even a spar.
How much experience do I get for causing Golarion's nuclear winter?
Silence examines the district proper, looking for doorways, windows, alleys, blind turns, and understanding the lay of the area. Perception:
I'm planning to put one point in Linguistics next level to read lips--that should cover most of the issues. But the hand signals thing would be useful for us in any case!
Silence grins at Gethric. In response to Psyana, she writes back, I am learning.
Silence pulls out the slate she had earlier, and, waiting patiently for a moment, brings forth chalk and begins to write. She writes out a number of sentences on her slate, and presents it. First, let me explain: I am deaf. But do not consider my condition an infirmity. It has granted me a silence that others cannot know, and cloaks me in a muffled web. And when I take the sight from my target, he can never sense me as I strike. She leaves the slate and chalk out for others to write.
"Silence" stops, turns around, and points back to the table in the room, and the letter describing the target upon it.
Csiza stares back at Psyana, whatever she might be thinking hidden beneath the goggles and mask. She motions with her head towards the door. Taking a moment to look at the palm of her hand, Csiza pulls out a pair of supple leather gloves and dons them. Picking up the third letter, she opens the door and heads out.
The silent one does not even bother to acknowledge the agreement before opening the second letter.
Csiza backs away from the fire, utterly shocked by the mental intrusion. Her goggles fog and her breathing grows heavy, small bits of acridity seeping in through the cloth. Yet as the message concludes, Csiza looks around the room, and without warning, without hesitation, leaps over to the letters to open the second.
The woman with the slate watched as the man stood and left. He didn't do that correctly, she observes. This is a test. Immediately suspicious, she stands, gathers her slate, and makes an odd gesture, wiping her fingers over the goggles. GM: Cast Detect Poison on the case. Then cast Detect Magic and scan the room.
It's those smells, Csiza keeps thinking. She wanders through the throng on the factory floor, keeping herself tight, yet flowing through and among the workers with an easy grace. She walks into the office. She looks at the gentleman, touches her mask, then notes the other woman in the room, continuing to be masked. She leaves her own in place. Looking at the table, the chairs, and the windowless room, she walks over to the gentleman and sits at his immediate right. She pulls forth a slate and chalk, and waits.
So I am switching out Murderous Command for Divine Favor. I must admit, though, I'm so tempted to replace it with Liberating Command, though. A no-component immediate-action get-out-of-X-free card sounds so nice... But so reactive and less likely to occur than, well, combat in general...
So I am switching out Murderous Command for Divine Favor.
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