Gnomish"Light must be awful low to cast such a big shadow. Before I let you in, I need a name, so I can introduce you to the group. Step in." As the half-elf steps back, Quint finally gets enough perspective to see that this room is some kind of multi-room suite, and this front chamber is nothing more than an antechamber, a waiting room. There is a long low table with several books sitting on it, a handful of plush chairs upholstered in expensive fabrics and golden brocade. A few dim lamps cast pale yellow-orange light around the room. The antechamber has three doors, the entrance to the hallway, where Quint and Hack now stand, another directly opposite across roughly fifteen feet of floor, and the third in the wall to the left, past all the furniture. When the silver-fanged half-elf speaks again, it is once again in Common. "So? What name am I to give?"
Quint's arrogant reply makes the half-elf laugh. "Brazen little bastard, aren't ye?" He then points at the muscly Highlander standing behind the little gnome and says, in gnomish"Who's he? Your second?"
When the door finally opens, Quint finds himself face to knees with a rather tall half-elf gentleman armed, as the expression goes, to the teeth. Mail of chain, vambraces, greaves, pauldrons sculpted to with horns that resemble a dragon's, mace, shortsword, several daggers, and a loaded and cocked crossbow all bedeck his personage. Also, in fact, interestingly, the elf-kin's lower incisors are capped in silver fangs. The man's expression when he looks down at Quint is one of complete shock, but not fear. He rests his hand on leather wrapped pommel of the mace sticking through his belt and says, Well, you're a good sight shorter than anyone I expected to show up tonight. D'you get an invitation by mistake? Or d'you steal it?" Judging by his current posture, the man does not consider Quint any kind of real threat, nor does he seem to care that Quint somehow got entrance to this secret meeting. If anything, his facial and body expressions show piqued curiosity.
Just as Psalm turned the corner of the stairs, and was far enough out of sight of the common room where he thought changing into a wee small mouse would give him the advantage of stealth, he locked eyes with the slit-pupil orbs of a sleek black tomcat sitting at the top of the stairs... Changing into a mouse now might be the deadliest mistake he ever made...
Don't forget what I've mentioned before about "domestic" or "house" cats in Eafphqu... :)
Hack, there is zero possibility your character heard that exchange. That's why I said "he leans down with his tusked mouth ever so close to Quint's." It was a very quiet and private dialogue in a crowded tavern common room. No one but Quint would have heard it. So, really, your character doesn't know that he should be going upstairs. Won't know that, in fact, until he starts going that direction. After that if you want to follow, you'll want to be a little subtle about it.
Zutir laughs, heartily, a loud guffaw, so loud, in fact, that half the common room looks over to see what could have made the lusty half-d'rak minstrel laugh so loudly. "Bwa ha ha!" His laugh dwindles. Then he leans down with his tusked mouth ever so close to Quint's. "Playing with yourself won't help you in that room full of snake charmers." Clearly the tusked singer has no trouble mixing metaphors, even metaphors that, on the surface, seem to contradict each other. "You're welcome to it, for no other reason than I'd love to see what they spit out after they've finished with you. Up the stairs, end of the left hallway on the right. Knock twice. When the lad asks, 'Which sea brought you to us?' You answer: 'C sharp.'" A funny turn of phrase, no doubt thought up by the pithy poet himself.
--Rydwyrna, The Floating Kraken, Late Evening, Vikaday, Brunhild 2, 146 R.R.--
The Kraken has never been a place that caters to high end clientele. Usually full of sailors, fishermen and dockworkers, it's no stranger to a seat clearing brawl. Yet, tonight, on a Vikaday no less, there are a number of well dressed, well protected, well armed members of the gentry about. Perhaps Zutir's reputation has brought The Floating Kraken some favor and better clientele? And he is worth the reputation. Zutir's half-orc heritage is impossible to hide, his lower tusks sit astride his bulbous, light-grey skinned nose when he fully closes his mouth, and his hands and arms are covered in coarse black hair. Yet, for all that, the man plays a lute with the delicacy and finesse of a servant to the Elves' queen. His melodies are enchanting, and when he embellishes his songs with colorful illusions that dance about the common room as he plays, few people are not entirely mesmerized. Food and drink of an above average cost and quality are spread about, and coin flows freely. For whatever else he might be Zutir is, in fact, a wonderful minstrel, a bard of high marks.
Thus it is when Quint, screwing up his bravery, due in much part to knowing that his capable friends are about him, hidden among the crowd, walks up and does his own subtle dance, flashing the necklace, and the rim of the sending stone he knows he's talking to a man with wits and skill.
When Zutir's hazel eyes catch the flash of the magical amulet, they pop open like saucers below a teacup. "That's a dangerous bit of hardware to be flashing about, even so subtly as ye have." The man with D'rak ancestors smiles, baring pearly white teeth to match his tusks. "I can hardly think Brommwyn gave you that without a fight, which means you're a small man of large means, no doubt. Looking for a share of the pie that's being baked, are ye? I can point ye in the right direction laddy, but are you ready for the den of vipers beyond the threshold?" Leave it to a lyricist to wax poetic in casual conversation...
Luna's trusted contacts have never even heard the name Zutir.
Nikeisha's have most definitely heard of him, and what they've heard isn't good. He's got a reputation as a bit of a con artist, bilking rich marks out of their coin by various grifts and swindles. Apparently Zutir has a reputable reputation with high society as a charismatic entertainer, but those on the street know he's nothing more than a two-bit charlatan bilking people out of their coin through shenanigans.
Quint's select few contacts that he trusts know that Zutir is a regular weekend entertainer at The Floating Kraken, and also that he preys on high society at times. Beyond that, they don't know much. Which is interesting, but not as interesting as when Quint caught a glimpse of Azuri dressed like a proper lady and walking arm in arm with some pompous nobleman's son. She was even carrying a parasol umbrella over her arm. No doubt she's playing the sucker for some of his family's riches.
When Hack brings up the name Zutir, one of the pit-fighters he beat seven ways from Amren's Day in one of their recent matches says, "Zutir? Ain't that th'half-orc minstrel over at the Floating Kraken? Brings in quite th'crowd over the weekends, from'at I hear. Frequently magics up 'is songs 'ith illusions. One o' m'buddies said it's like watching the story take place while he's singin' 'bout it. 'at you want 'im for? You throwin' a party Hack? I didn' get no invite?!" The thug says with mocking shock.
Leaning back and speaking in a more conversational tone, Akassa says, "Legal, it is. There is precedent; Seneschal Martyn was voted executive powers and named Chancellor during the d'rak siege of thirty-four. After the crisis was averted, Martyn returned power to the Senate. The problem now is that the Senate might be the problem." Akassa reaches up and pulls playfully at one dark ringlet curl of her lusciously thick raven-black locks as she thinks. Then says, "I trust Elise with my life, and I trust that she has the best for Byrthelm in mind. It may be that she has to order new elections, and that all candidates, incumbent and new are vetted with extreme care. Regardless, if the current Senate is infiltrated by cultists, it may be such an extreme measure is the only recourse." She notices herself playing with her hair and then pushes the curl back behind her hood. "None of that changes your mission for today. Find this Zutir! Find this secret meeting and bring back as much information as you can about the who's and where's. Try and locate Jun; with all that's happening I fear for his safety. Whenever you find anything important, get the information to Thjorvar. He can get it to me in secret, and we can move our pieces from there. Light bless you all. I'll pray you bring me good news by midday." With that, as before, Akassa abruptly stands, and quickly shuffles out the rear door of Thjorvar's kitchens to the alley beyond, and her personal guard, all of whom are once again dressed like rugged adventurers, not Red Guard.
After listening to everyone's detailed explanations of their investigations so far, and their divinely arranged attendance at the attack on the Shepherd's compound, including Jun's incredible ability to leave with some important tools and papers, Akassa looks visibly upset. "Things may be worse than anyone has feared. If these Kraiula worshipers and followers of Aranon's mythical legacy are working against or with each other, all the worse. I don't know the name Zutir, and I'd be afraid to start asking around. Once again, I feel that you are the Republic's best tools. Please, please!" The beautiful young Senator of Midvale pleads with you. "Please find out where this meeting is, and send word to me through Thjorvar as soon as possible. I wish I could give you more manpower to help look for this Zutir and for Mr. Valanthe, but I fear that would just call unnecessary attention to you. As it was before, it is now, entirely up to you. I know I ask much and more of you, but I do not feel it is an understatement to say that the fate of the entire Republic may rest in your capable hands." She pauses then for a moment. Her face screwed up in conflicted thought. Then she leans in close across the tabletop and whispers. "Now I will share with you something that could be good or ill, but regardless is grave news. Because of all that is happening, Elise has been making a quiet push among the Senators she trusts, to invoke emergency powers to herself. Since none of us our sure who among the Senate can be trusted, it is possible her measure will pass, for the good of the Republic. It may be that at this time next week that our Seneschal, Elise Diergarten, will disband the Senate and rule alone, as a temporary Queen. Much do I fear in that regard. I trust Elise, but can a Queen once crowned ever return power to the people? ..."
Strangely, those of you who are students of facial expression and body language know, instantly, Akassa is looking to you for affirmation of the choice she fears to make, but thinks is best for the nation. Truly, the fate of a nation may hang here in the balance, and you, simple folk, have power to sway the balance.
Sorry, but that isn't going to cut the proverbial mustard. ;) "Hmmm, what's that Hack? Plans, yes, well, these events have us considering anything and everything that will maintain the order and integrity of the Republic of Byrthelm. Our Seneschal, Elise, is no different. When the Senate convenes our next legislative session on Aldelday of next week, the time will be upon us to act in an official capacity." She pauses for a moment, and is most definitely contemplating something. Then she brings her attention back to the here and now. "I'm still waiting to hear how in the wide world of Eafphqu you gathered all this information? Please, if you would, enlighten me to your investigations? I'll need something solid to go on before I go around throwing accusations at upstanding members of the military and government just because they share an elven heritage."
Without warning Quint feels a slight vibration in the hidden pouch in his shirt, subtlely reaching in, he grabs the Sending Stone, and feels it hum against his fingers. Immediately he hears a female voice in his head that drips with a lilting elven accent. "We're meeting tonight, usual time, usual place, but a different room; Zutir knows which. The grasp constricts. Avoid followers. Bring the amulet." Then the voice ceases. Knowing the full nature of the magical stone, Quint knows he has but a brief moment to send a reply... But should he? Surely whomever is on the other end of the stone won't recognize his voice. Maybe not replying at all is what she's used to? Maybe just a short affirmation of some kind, to let the sender know the message was received? Argh! Never has such a small decision loomed so large!
In addition, Psalm, who went to check on the nags, wagon, and supplies that Jun purchased and has waiting in Thjorvar's stables out back, comes back shaking his head with dreadful worry. He sits back down and says, "The bug out buggy is still there. I worry for Jun's safety. He should be here!"
To all. You do not have to write up a full report of your investigations as dialogue. If you just want to simply say "Luna reports everything she's found so far, and where she found it." That's more than adequate. I just want to know what you all are willing to share with Akassa, both as a way of having her fully informed, but also, obviously as a measure of your trust of her motives and allegiance. :) Let me know if you have any questions or blanks that need filling in.
Hack, please roll a Persuasion check. You can roll with advantage, as we'll assume one of your friends offers their verbal aid to your request. So that'd be a 1d20+1 for you. Thanks! :)
At first the amount and depth of information that Psalm, Nikeisha, and Quint give to Akassa makes her appear dumbfounded. She stammers and stutters over her words for a moment. "I'm sorry, Diamond Imports? The herbalist? Which herbalist? Enchanter? Arcane Order? Ethalionites? Kraiulans? You've gone too far afield and lost me entirely? If you don't mind, slow down, backtrack, start from the beginning. How and why have your investigations lead you to these people and areas?" Then taking Quint's offered piece of paper, she reads the names, and her face, normally pale of color anyway, blanches completely, becoming almost transparent. "Are you saying that these five people are part of this treachery? This rebellion? All of those people are trusted commanders in the Orders of the Republic and two of them are Senators!" She exclaims, overly excitedly, then takes a moment, a deep breath, pulls close the deep cowl of her drying cloak, composing herself. Then she whispers, barely audibly. "If that is the case, perhaps Elise's plan is not so ill-advised or extraordinary after all... The raven-haired Senator's voice trails off at the end, as her eyes go vacant, thinking about something perhaps far off, perhaps not so.
That Jun is neither present, nor accounted for, clearly does not sit well with the Senator of Midvale. Tension crinkles her beautiful face before she says, "Ill tidings." That is all she says, at first, then, after a moment of awkward pause, she continues. "What have your investigations discovered?" Akassa's azure eyes grasp each member of the party individually, coaxing each to share with her something of value.
--Rydwyrna, Various Locales, Week of Ilsa 22 to Brunhild 3--
Another week of trudging around in Rydwyrna’s streets to do Akassa’s dirty work passed rather quickly. Much of that trudging was done in the rain, now that the wet winter season has fully descended upon the continent,. No doubt the Racamere is either fully frozen over, or soon will be. As with every other winter, orc raiders moved further and further south, forcing the Republic to send out more and more troops to aid her southern cities and villages. It seems that Byrthelm’s concern for the d’rak increases exponentially the closer their war parties get to the capital. Scuttlebutt about town, though, says this year’s raiding parties are bigger, and attacking more frequently. A rumor backed up by the sparse and paltry showing at the parade to celebrate the end of the Nine Years War on Freedom day. The Order’s regiments marched along Republic Way as they have every year before, broken up by decorated merchant wagons tossing trinkets to the children, and Senator’s waving slowly and precisely from their luxurious carriages. All told, though the full parade took less than an hour, and whole battalions of soldiers were noticeably missing. Thankfully, the day of the parade was free of rain, and the cobbled stone of Republic Way kept mud from being spattered about. Still, the mood of this year’s parade seemed more somber than before.
Warning Whispers--Nikeisha and Psalm’s Week Three Investigation:
Psalm and Nikeisha walked about together for a fair bit of the week. They spent a goodly bit of time trying to gain entrance to the higher levels of the Arcanium, but were rebuffed at every past, constantly bombarded with requests to join the Order of the Arcane if they wanted to earn the right to view the Order’s massive library of tomes. Knowing what they know about the High Transmuter and his minions, they neither joined, nor risked angering the wizard by trying to break into levels they were not sanctioned to enter. Before leaving one day Nikeisha asked a few of the servants about her halfling friend Kithrana’s whereabouts. At first everyone just shrugged their shoulders, but just before Nikeisha was about to give up, she asked another halfling meandering about with a mop, a young gentleman with bright pink burn scars on his cheek. His eyes darted about for a bit, and then he leaned up and whispered in Nikeisha’s ear. ”They killed her.” Immediately after whispering such dread news the young halfling began to vigorously mop the floor speedily departing from Nikeisha and Psalm. If the news is true, the entire group of Nikeisha’s friends is now in much more danger than before. If Ethes’ minions discovered Kithrana’s knowledge and betrayal, no doubt they already know about her connection to Nikeisha. Dire news indeed.
Kindred Spirits--Luna and Psalm’s Week Three Investigation:
As promised Psalm and Luna took a trip to some of the shops that were marked with the four pointed star on the Shepherd’s ledger sheet. They started with Skiara’s sketchbook and found the shop to be highly organized, as one might expect from a bibliophile. Skiara’s shop had everything a writer or reader could desire, books both full and empty, quills, ink of every color, scroll tubes and cases of every size and shape. She even had paint supplies and canvas. Nothing about the shop was particularly out of the ordinary, and Skiara, a female half-elf with longer points on her ears than most, and deep lavender eyes was quite pleasant to talk to. From the front of the house, there was absolutely nothing Luna or Psalm could see that was incriminating. After visiting the two other shops on the list: Heavenly Herbs, and Arviel’s Armaments, they found much the same. Arviel, a dark-skinned female half-elf with grey-white hair, and red eyes, was as strong as Hack, but no less pleasant. Luna asked about various light armaments, and took a look at some of Arviel’s more exotic weaponry on display, but in the end she and Psalm left with nothing more than a favorable impression of the smithy. Dinvyr, the owner of the herb shop, was tall, lithe, with a soothing soft voice, hands stained from crushing plants and fungus all day, ruddy brown skin, and green eyes. His shop was a bit less organized than some, but still, not unkempt, and he offered to help Psalm procure whatever ingredients he might need for his studies, the guise under which Luna and Psalm had entered the store. Again, nothing noteworthy to learn, other than all three shop owners were at least partly elven of descent. Luna was beginning to think this portion of her investigation useless, until they were starting to leave Dinvyr’s shop. Upon entering the rainy street, Luna locked eyes with Hack, as he stood stoic guard next to a wagon of goods that was about to be hauled to Dinvyr’s back room. So, there was some sort of connection between Diamond Imports and at least one of the shops. Most interesting…
Dismissed--Hack’s Week Three Investigation:
Hack’s pointed questions to Brantar Hambuc-ham about the ambush while delivering to the manse near the castle were dismissed outright. ”These things happen.” Was all Brantar said. Hack knew, though, having a good read on a man’s body language, a side effect of watching subtle muscle movements to avoid sudden attacks, that Brantar was covering something up. Fiery ambushes do happen, in the Highlands quite often, actually, but FAR less often in Byrthelm’s capital. Brantar was being too dismissive too quickly, almost as if he anticipated questions and already had planned his answer, which could only mean Brantar didn’t want to actually have to answer questions with any real truth. All of which didn’t sit well with Hack at all, but Jun had told him to bide his time and watch for missteps and opportunities. Of missteps Hack never noticed any, but opportunities abounded. Diamond Imports was extremely busy delivering goods during the week, and Hack had to work long hours trudging about with his axe at the ready guarding shipment upon shipment. In that there wasn’t anything new, besides the hours; however, Hack was part of guarding shipments to the construction crews that were working to rebuild all of the buildings that were burned down during the coordinated attack that freed the ex-senator Enwelros from bondage. Hack didn’t need any great intellect to know that if the group was responsible for burning the buildings down, and now, unbeknownst to the average citizen, were supplying everything for the rebuilds, something was most definitely afoot. Something else afoot happened later in the week, when Jun was the supervisor delivering one such shipment. After the shipment was unloaded Hack watched seven men armend in chainmail with no sigil of office come up and all but grab Jun, saying, ”Boss wants a word with you Valanthe.” Something about the way they surrounded Jun as they walked away in the dreary rain didn’t sit well with him.
Vanishing Act--Jun’s Week Three Investigation:
Late in the week, one night after the group had swapped stories and supped, Jun walked them all out to the stables of Thjorvar’s Black Pegasus and showed them a beat up old covered wagon, and two hoary nags. ”That wagon is stocked with two weeks of supplies.” The half-elf said without his normal confident swagger. ”If things turn sour, I want us out of town as quickly as possible. We’ll head east, to the coast. We can go to Tradebay City, I still have contacts there, and shouldn’t have any trouble setting us up with lodging and work.” Jun’s mannerisms and tone of voice give away some kind of trepidation. Quint is quite clear the half-elf knows something he isn’t saying, or has a hunch he won’t share. The only information Jun was willing to share was that Diamond Imports was the sole supplier to the three shops the Shepherds had marked with Ethalion’s star, and that they were not only supplying the materials for rebuilding the burnt down buildings destroyed in the coordinated attack, but they also had some kind of role in selecting the crews that were rebuilding them. Before Quint “retired to his chambers” on the last night of Ilsa, the 25th, Jun pulled him aside and whispered cryptically in his ear: ”You’ve proven good at connecting the dots Quint, there are four more dots to connect.” The bard merchant looked about nervously as he said so, even though there was nobody in the hallway. Quint didn’t like the tremor in his voice, or the way his usually confident eyes darted about.
Naming Names--Quint’s Week Three Investigation:
Quints street rats were all about the rainy city for him this week, and more coin had to leave his pocket to keep them happy, but it was money well spent. Quint’s eyes and ears got him names. Five names to be exact, the owners of the five houses in question. Houses that were danger close to five other buildings that were burned down during the attack that freed Enwelros from his Red Castle prison. The details of each name that came, one by one, throughout the week struck Quint like a quarrel to the chest. Grewalt Harcey, male half-elf, Lord Packmaster Druid of the Order of the Wild. Pengali Brightsword, male half-elf, Captain of the Red Guard, the force that guards Castle Redwood. Neladrie Scarborne, female half-elf, Soul Warden of the Order of the Open Fist. The last two names, though, the last two owners of the five houses that seemed to represent the five heads of the dragon queen, they were the most dire names to learn. Edmund Morquafëa, male half-elf, Nightscout Commander of the Order of Shadows, AND Senator of Redlake Province. Worse yet, Ellas Fuinësicil, male elf, Deacon of the Word of the Order of Faith, and Senator of Eastwood Province. Is the cult so old, so entrenched in the Republic’s systems? If it is, the danger is not only really present, but perhaps inescapable. Perhaps that is what Jun was on to. On to, but afraid to voice it because of all the ramifications of such knowledge brought with it. Quint was resolved to ask Jun about what he knew, and when he knew it, the very next morning. Sadly that desire was interrupted by the presence of the party’s secret benefactor.
Like a bolt of dark-haired lightning, Akassa sat in the back room of Thjorvar’s kitchen on the morning of Brunhild 2, Vikaday. Beautiful and secret, she sat cloaked in darkness and silence. She waited while everyone had a seat around her, as they had before, over three weeks ago now. Quint sat last, looking over his shoulders for Jun to show up. Quint’s knowledge, though not technically incriminating, it wasn’t illegal to own property in the city, no matter how mathematically arranged the property might be to any others, was powerful and dangerous. It wasn’t something he’d share lightly, especially not with someone who flat out told the group they shouldn’t trust her. Looking around Akassa shook her head deep in the hood of her rain soaked cloak and said, ”where’s Jun? Has he no tidings to share?”
After sitting with the magic items for just about an hour, turning them around and around, listening to the hum of magic as it courses through their bodies, Nikeisha and Psalm are able to correctly identify both of the magic items. The stone is a sending stone, an item that is always part of a matched pair. Somewhere else is it's twin, and the person who holds it can send and receive brief messages one time each day. Psalm realizes, as he plays with the stone, that it has already been used today! The necklace, Nikeisha discovers, and is amazed to make the discovery is an amulet of proof against detection and location!
Quint said: "Or we could use it to set a trap of our own..." Now there's an idea... O.o
Carefully looking down into the mechanisms of the chest's lock assembly, Quint sees a coiled spring and a small dart with some some black oily substance rubbed on the tip. Looks like a poison dart trap. Maybe the type of poison could be traced to a particular maker or shop, if one could successfully extract it without setting it off?
When Quint passed the Shepherd's compound to check on the state of things, he saw both the casters' corpses piled on a wain, and the Guard preventing the spread of the fire, but doing nothing to stop the buildings or walls of the mansion from burning. It seems they are content to prevent further damage to property but have given up on trying to salvage the compound from the blazing inferno the archers started with their oil and arrows.
Once back at The Pegasus, Quint goes to work carefully determining if the small chest is trapped. As he does, Hack, Luna, and Jun skim through the mass of messy papers looking for anything that might help further their investigation into the source and goals of the secret society that has made itself as clear as crystal. Sadly, none of the papers these puppets of the cult collected revealed much at all. Among the parchments were reports about the movement of the Order Guard shifts in various locales; sketches of some houses and mansions, along with notes about possible wealth that might rest inside; some papers that look like personnel reports, listing backgrounds, and skill sets for a number of people, one of those reports is about a familiar gnome named Quint Rue... On his report it lists things like, "accurate with a bow, rooftop regular, above average sneak thief," but it also says, "loner, doesn't like taking orders," and "possible Republic connections."
One document that catches Hack's eyes is a ledger of some kind. It lists a number of different businesses, some prominent, others small and out of the way, but next to each there is a set of columns with the months of Eafphqu's calendar listed across the top. For each business, for each month leading up to the current month, Ilsa, there is a check mark in the columns. That is for all except a few. For a few of the businesses instead of a check mark, there is a plus sign, or, no, wait, not a plus sign, the vertical line of all the marks is too long, they are crosses. Crosses? It hits him suddenly, the marks could very easily be the quick-reference mark for a four pointed star with a long tail. The three businesses with the crosses are: Arviel's Armaments, Heavenly Herbs, and Skiara's Sketchbook, the last is purveyor of goods for the discerning bibliophile. Perhaps surveilling those three locations will turn a profit of information?
Just as Hack relating his discover to the rest, Quint shushes the room, "Hush!" He exclaims. Then, after a moment of silence the group hears a small "click" of some mechanical mechanism inside the chest. Seconds later Quint breathes a heavy sigh of relief and opens the lid of the chest. "Locked, and trapped, and by somebody that knows their business. Thankfully they don't know it quite as well as I do." The gnome smiles at the group, proud of his ability to get the better of whomever set the trap and lock on the chest. After opening the lid, the group sees a noble's ransom of gemstones, silver, gold, and platinum coins, and a few pieces of jewelry. As Nikeisha pulls out a particularly beautiful necklace she recognizes right away that it is magical. Psalm also notices something, but not because it's beautiful, rather, because it isn't. Among the treasure there is one small smooth stone, not a precious gemstone, but a rock. On the rock is inscribed a rune from the Elvish language, though with strange flourish. It is the rune for the number five. Grabbing the incredibly out of place item, Psalm, also, immediately recognizes that it is magical in nature...
Doing a quick mental calculation Jun appraises the wealth in the chest and says, "that's roughly 720 gold pieces worth of coins and gems. It is not a sum that someone would abandon lightly. Not especially with magic items as part. It's not only possible, but likely, that there will be people coming to look for this. Any one of these gems or jewelry pieces would be easily locate-able with a simple spell, as would the chest itself. As much as I'd like to keep this wealth, it might be better for us to turn it over to someone else, just to protect our investigations and our identity."
Psalm said: "Could it all have been a stunt? Burn their own evidence cause a commotion. Perhaps throw suspicion off?" Now there is a man who is thinking like an agent of the drow...
Quint creates a quick but thorough mental image of the layout of The Floating Kraken. Inerestingly, the layout is very much akin to the body of a large squid. The main part of the inn is three stories with guest rooms no doubt above the common room and a few private parlor rooms. Attached to the building and trailing out down the block, though, are three separate halls of dormitory type rooms. Judging by how closely the doorways are one to the next there can't be more room in them than enough for a small bed, and perhaps a desk with a wash basin. The three hallways, though they are short, do have the appearance of being the tentacles of the Kraken. Conversation in the tavern is mostly the ordinary bawdy and raucous garbage one would expect from sailors, pirates, thugs, and thieves. It's a bit intriguing to Quint that, now, sitting here as he is, doing what he's doing, he actually feels out of place, whereas just a couple months ago, he would have felt right at home with this crowd. Is he growing a conscience?
Unfortunately he hears nothing that helps his investigation, and with so many guest rooms attached to this place, his quarry could be in any one of them. Even if he went door to door and slipped into every room, the man he's looking for could easily have changed clothes by now, and dressed his wounds. He could look the man in the face, and still not know it was him. Perhaps the best thing for him to do is send his little street rats to watch this place? Since the Shepherd's compound is, no doubt, nothing but cinders, they'll need a new target anyway. Regardless, it might be time to check in with his comrades, if they were smart they avoided the guard and went back to one of their private rooms at Thjorvar's Black Pegasus.
---The Black Pegasus, Jun's Quarters---
As soon as Hack plops the small but heavy chest upon the desk in Jun's room, Jun's eyes fall a little. The chest is, without a doubt, locked. The small keyhole in the front makes that clear. The fleeing half-orc no doubt had the key on him, which does no one any good now.
Instead Jun spills his satchel of papers onto the desk, and asks everyone to start looking through them.
Everyone please give me an Investigation roll, for the purposes of this roll, I would allow a Wisdom or Intelligence roll, so whichever of those is higher for you, you can use that. We'll see what you can find in the massive jumble of crumpled and hastily packed parchments. :)
Rydwyrna, Early Night, Outside The Black Pegasus, Ilsa 21, R.R. 146.
Skirting around through District 5 back to District 4, and meandering south to The Pegasus was uneventful, even though Hack was, quite obviously, carrying a heavy chest under one arm. Taking their slow time, so as not to draw too much attention, meant the passing of the better part of an hour. Psalm's squirrely guard made sure the group wasn't followed, and though they kept their eyes peeled for Quint, he never appeared. As Akassa's volunteers approached the main drag of Republic Way, nearing the front entrance of their Black Pegasus, something became clear rather quickly, something happened at Castle Redwood.
Verb tense change... :P
There are entirely too many guards on the ramparts, and the entirety of the structure has been surrounded by Daylight spells. So much so that, though it should be dark outside, it isn't. The street is lit up like it's the middle of the day. Nikeisha grabs a passerby, a man in fine clothes with a feathered bowler hat, and asks him what is going on?
"Haven't heard yet, eh?" He remarks. "Seems there was some kind of coordinated attack. Several buildings throughout the city were burned, and as the Guard were diverted to help with things, leaving a skeleton crew at the castle, a force of infiltrators moved in and broke the renegade ex-senator, Enwelros, out of prison. They got away free as birds, in fact, if rumors are true, they actually flew away. With the Senate's Six in Elatanis cleaning things up, and the Hippogriff Rangers helping with the forest fires in the Mourning Forest, there wasn't anybody could follow them. Whoever that half-elf was working for, they wanted him out of prison, and out of prison he is. Seems like our illustrious Republic isn't quite as flawless as they would have us all believe. Ill omens, all of it. Ill omens..." The man mutters almost to himself as he walks away leaving the entire group staring at the lit up Castle Redwood in shock and disbelief. Is it possible the attack the group interrupted was just a small part of a larger effort to spread thin the ranks of the Order Guard? The ramifications of that possibility bring more questions that need answering. Perhaps looking through the papers that Jun was able to retrieve or the contents of the chest he stole will reveal more?
--Meanwhile down by the docks, outside The Floating Kraken.--
Though he searches most diligently, Quint is unable to pinpoint any of the pedestrians outside of The Kraken as clearly being the man he was chasing. Truly, it could be anyone, the man was of average height, and Quint never got a look at his eyes or hair color. It's also possible the man is wiling away time somewhere inside The Kraken. Which does Quint zero good, because he'd have to make himself conspicuous in order to do a thorough search of the busy premises. It might be worth the search, but dare he do it alone, in so rough a neck of the proverbial woods?
In case it wasn't obvious, we are out of initiative. Post at your leisure. :)
Priest Death Save:1d20 ⇒ 3 Sorcerer Death Save:1d20 ⇒ 3
When Psalm tied up the second caster he couldn't help but notice two things. Thing the first, they are both barely clinging to life. Thing the second, that the holy symbol the priest was using, the symbol that fell out of his hand when he hit the ground, hard, is an exact replica of the curved, chromatic, five-pointed star that Akassa showed them, and that he's seen in several drawings during his research of the ancient elven war. The symbol of Kraiula, the queen of dragons. That is probably one of the most disturbing revelations of this entire combat. In order for a priest to wield magic, they must be granted it by their deity. If Kraiula is granting men and women access to magical power, she is, clearly, not dead. Likewise, the gnome's question to his companions is the burning question of the moment. "Should we stay or should we go?" Hack's wounds are all closed and mostly healed from his potion consumption and Jun's magic (35/39 HP), and Nikeisha's ability to stop or even contain the fires consuming this mansion compound are woefully inadequate. For every five foot square fire she puts out, fifteen more feet are spread elsewhere. Therefore saving the structure is clearly a lost cause. The approaching clang of steel covered boots continues to get louder, coming from the west. There can be no doubt now, a force of Order Guard is on its way. Now the party must decide, stay and face the music and all the ramifications that go with it? Or head some place out of the way, and pop the lock on this small chest to see what's inside, and likewise, to peruse through the various parchments that Jun collected in his new leather satchel. And if they do leave, where are they going to go?
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Down by the docks, outside the back alley of The Floating Kraken, Quint sneaks up and peers just over the lower edge of a windowsill. In so doing he sees only the hustle and bustle of a busy kitchen, with cooks hastily slinging hash, and servers grabbing trays of food and drinks to deliver to raucous customers. Of his quarry, the hooded and now unmasked archer, he sees nothing.
The flurry and chaos of action inside the burning mansion continues as Luna pours a healing potion down Hack's unconscious Highlander gullet. As soon as the magical healing liquid hits his throat the bloody barbarian's eyes pop awake, and he has no trouble immediately remembering where he is and what he was doing. With but a curt nod to Luna he jumps up grabbing his axe and swinging hard at the man who bested him. The axe buries deep in the warrior's back cutting through mail, flesh and bone, and drawing a bass howl. Immediately after, Nikiesha's lovely head pops in the doorframe, seeing her three companions engaged in combat with a stranger she hesitates not even the slightest, shooting a blast of other-worldly green eldritch energy into the man. The blast explodes when it hits his torso, perhaps because Hack's axe had just torn a great gouge in that same spot. Regardless, the force of magic literally tears the man into halves. His legs and feet hit the ground separately from his upper half. There is a brief moment where Jun sees recognition in the man's dying eyes, a realization that he might enter the afterlife in two pieces. Then the assailant's eyes go vacant, and Jun yells to his friends, "OUT! This place is about to crumble and burn!"
Important note, Hack only has 15' of movement left this round, and Nikeisha, as far as I can tell from her previous position, has none. And for the moment, even though there are no more combatants, I'm keeping things in initiative. You'll see why shortly. Jun and Luna have not actually taken their actions in this round, so they could easily both take the Dash action and get well away from here. Up to you both.
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Meanwhile on the street, having bound the priest, Psalm stands watch over the two downed spellcasters, ready, no doubt, to bind, gag, and blindfold the second of the two. As he's preparing to do that, he hears, quite clearly, the faint sound of multiple people in clanging platemail making their hasty way, somewhere. The sound definitely seems like it is approaching from the west. Perhaps the Order Guard are finally on their way? Too late to help this time.
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Further south Quint gets a strange and strong feeling that the archer he's chasing and the other archer that ran off, are not, in fact, going the same direction, and suddenly he loses all sense of where the other one might be. Sorry Quint, but they were not going the same direction, and I forgot that you can't communicate with your familiar when it is more than 100' away. That would have actually happened last round with you and your quarry(s) all taking the Dash action, and in opposite directions. No matter, he keeps his eyes tight locked on his target, and from his rooftop vantage sees the man rip off his mask, suddenly, and enter a tavern from the back entrance. Looking to the sign, he sees it is The Floating Kraken. It seems his pursuit has brought him rather close to the docks, this inn and tavern is one that he knows fairly well, since it is a hive of pirates, thugs and villains.
As I said, we're still in initiative, just without combatants. Ergo, everyone can act.
Current Initiative = Quint, Hack, Luna, Psalm, Nikeisha, Jun.
Hack, it's my understanding that when you are using bardic inspiration for an attack roll in which you have advantage the number you roll applies to both of the d20 rolls. Meaning you should be applying the 4 you rolled in the first roll to the second roll, and that would give you an 18 total to hit. If I'm wrong about that please, someone, correct me.
Luna, PHB page 177 in the "Hiding" box says, "You can't hide from a creature that can see you clearly." No matter where you started your turn, you walked out into a well lit hallway. You cannot stealth in that situation at all. Unless, as Quint said, you had some means of invisibility. If you had gone from a position of cover to another position of cover, I might have considered it, but you moved from a position of cover to the end of the same hallway that the person you are trying to hide from is standing. Honestly, and I don't mean this to be offensive, but since I know you are also a DM, I was a little taken aback that you even tried that. If you were the DM would you let a character end their turn next to the person they were trying to hide from in a well lit area, and still be "hidden?"
Taking or administering a potion requires the use of your Action. You can certainly take another potion of your own, but that would prevent you from attacking this round.
Quint finds it all too easy to follow his quarry as he maneuvers across rooftops in a trail that roughly follows the alleys and streets the fire-starting archer runs on. As does the extension of his awareness, his owl familiar, though he's only vaguely aware of it himself.
Nikeisha, out of the corner of her eye, sees the remainder of this mansion's inhabitants running away as fast as they can. The street clear of civilians, she decides to use her magic to extinguish small bits of the fire on the wagon, in the hopes that it will prevent another explosion of whatever alchemical reagent has been causing booms and splinters of flame. Watching the massive fire shrink only a little, just to expand in other places -- expand A LOT, the climbing and reaching flames on the walls on building now light up the whole street -- feels a little futile, but it's the best good she can offer here and now.
Psalm rushes over to the two spell casters, hoping they both don't die so they can be questioned about who they are, why they came, and what they know.
To die, to sleep no more...:
Sorcerer death save:1d20 ⇒ 18 Priest death save:1d20 ⇒ 4
At the moment they both look to be on equal footing with the afterlife. One failure and one success on death saves for each at this point.
Inside the building, Luna darts off to safety and hiding to await the outcome of Hack's war of two people. She barely hears Hack's axe slash through the veteran warriors mail and flesh, and then hears Jun's charismatic voice speaking encouragement to their Highlander friend, and insult to his foe. What she hears after that causes her grasp of serenity to slip, just a little.
Because it makes a difference at this point. The first sword slice is the attack I took the 2 from cutting words off of, and it still hit and did 2 damage, the second did 4 damage, which brings Hack to 0. I realize in the application here, that Cutting Words, at the table, is sort of broken, because DM has no obligation to tell the players what number an enemy rolled. It's essentially a guessing game. In this medium, knowing the numbers provides the opportunity to apply the -2 specifically to one attack, which I'm sure Jun would then apply to the second longsword attack, because that would have actually prevented it from hitting. However, since the shorsword would have dropped Hack regardless, and I desperately needed this warrior's motivations to be crystal clear, I took some liberty there. In a different situation, I may have adjudicated differently, but I wanted Jun to know his life was in danger, because he's carrying that small chest. So, things happened accordingly. :)
Jun watches in horror as the warrior cuts deep into Hack's flesh and the wounds become too much for him, he falls unconscious to the floor, his blood loss terrible. Hack's axe clatters to the ground next to him. Seeing so tough and stalwart a warrior fall drops Jun's stomach in a bit of fear. Worse, he sees the warrior then look up at him, the man whose words attempted to falter his course. The fighter's eyes lock on the small chest that Jun carries, and he takes a quick step stabbing out with his shortsword directly into the arm that Jun has wrapped around the chest. Blinding agony sears through his arm causing the half-elf bard to shriek in pain. He barely keeps a handle on the heavy object.
And we're right back to the top. Everyone can act. Hack, roll a death save please.
Current Initiative = Quint, Psalm, Nikeisha, Jun, Luna, Hackcan only roll a death save.
Luna, I'm not sure what it is you're looking for with that question? Is the warrior hostile towards you specifically? The answer to that would be "no," because he's currently trading blows with a hulking Highlander barbarian. Ergo, he's too busy trying not to die and simultaneously trying to kill your friend Hack to worry about some prissy elf lady that just ran in. Having said that, he is trying to kill Hack, and, I might add, doing a pretty bang up job of it. If Hack didn't have DR because he was raging, he'd already by on the floor. So....
@Jun, since this is your round 3 action, I wanted to respond to you separately, because you can immediately jump into taking your round 4 actions as well, and then I'll adjudicate everything once everyone has posted.
Taking a quick but thorough look at his surroundings, Jun notices some telltale scrapes on the wooden floor in front of the chest of drawers just inside the door. It can't be that easy, can it? He thinks to himself while pulling the chest forward. When he sees a part of the floorboards cut out with an iron handle on them, he thinks, I guess it can be that easy. Pulling up the handle Jun finds a small chest. Unfortunately it is locked and he knows he doesn't have time to unlock it here and now. Giving the small chest a quick heft, he realizes, though it won't be particularly easy, he can carry it and still move at a close to normal pace. Whatever is in it, it isn't just paperwork. In fact, it might not be paperwork at all, but no doubt whatever is in it, will provide some clues to the inner workings of whatever group was operating out of this, soon to be burned down, building.
Current Initiative = Jun, Luna, Nikeisha, Psalm. Quint and Hack have already posted their round 4 actions. :)
Con Save Red:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13 Con Save Orange:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12 Con Save Green:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14 Beaming Moon Damage:2d10 ⇒ (6, 2) = 8
Psalm sends his shaft of Laureoth's magical coalescing radiance down upon the roof full of archers. The thick searing light causes all three men to scream in pain, though one scream lingers longer than the others.
Then, Nikeisha drops a puff of magical slumber amongst them, dropping them all instantly to sleep. After dropping their bows they all hit the roof tiles and then tumble in three different directions off the roof. Two of the archers fall so awkwardly and hard that their bodies lie on the ground bloody, twisted, and broken. They will not be getting up, ever. A third though, the leader of the group, hits the ground hard, but instantly pops his eyes open, very much awake. He instantaneously pops up from the ground and, weaponless, tears off at a dead sprint into the alley between buildings southward. Perhaps somebody should take off after him? Or perhaps everyone should go and check on what's going on in the building behind the wall. The flames atop the roof have become a blaze so furious that they light up the entire street, and even Quint, from his position across the street, can feel the heat of all the separate fires.
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Meanwhile Luna charges into the building just in time to watch a hulking half-orc charge out right past her. She also sees Hack and the warrior he followed doing furious combat, axe and swords fly about at breakneck speed.
Hack's studded leather armor, as fine as it is, is no match for the sharpness and swiftness of the veteran warrior's swords. Luna watches as three fresh and deep gashes are opened in the Highlander's flesh. Dark drops of blood drip in rivulets onto the floor, but the axe wielding barbarian refuses to fall. Hack is currently at 5 HP.
Upstairs, Jun continues to ferociously file any thing he thinks he might need later into the leather satchel that his suggestable friend the vacated half-orc left behind for him. As he does so he begins to smell and then see smoke pouring down into the room from above. The building is most definitely on fire.
Jun! I didn't bot you because at this point, being upstairs and out of the combat, and in an area that has some potential secrets to discover, in addition to starting to see smoke pouring in from the ceiling, I didn't want to dictate what you do there. So, as soon as you are able, please post whatever actions you want for Round 4.
Current Initiative = EVERYBODY You've eliminated the threat group that was between your initiative blocks, so everyone can post at their leisure. Right now the only combat threat is the warrior that is cutting the life out of Shenkt "Hack" Corchran.
Hack's axe slams into his opponent's shoulder and cuts through splintmail and flesh, drawing a spray of blood, but it appears to slow the warrior down not at all. He simply grimaces a bit, and once again slams his blades together in a taunt.
The street is now clear of all bystanders, as they have all run away in various directions after seeing so much death and magical carnage. One thing is certain, the streets of Rydwyrna have suddenly become intensely, savagely, lawlessly, more dangerous than they were just one day before. Moments like this are the kinds of moments that shake a people's belief that their systems and governance can protect them at all. It takes heroes to restore that faith. Heroes ready to act at a moments notice. Heroes ready to do what's right regardless of wages or accolades. Perhaps such heroes are here on the street now? Under the four moons of Eafphqu, waging war against evil and chaos.
Quint has surely got to come up with a name for his bow at this point. Loosing his arrow, it flies straight and true directly into the heart of the fire-bearing archer on the cross-street rooftop. The archer tumbles forward off the roof and hits the ground, thoroughly dead.
Watching his partner fall dead gives the remaining archer on that roof a moment to weigh the risks and rewards of his mission. Clearly, to the owl overhead who is the only thing capable of seeing what he's doing, he has decided the rewards no longer outweigh the risks. He grabs a hold of the knotted rope of black silk that is attached to the roof's chimney, climbs down, and shoves off, at rapid speed. Instinctually, or perhaps at the subconscious direction of its master, the owl follows him...
Death Saves:
Priest:1d20 ⇒ 14 Sorcerer:1d20 ⇒ 7
Cyan has bugged out, and everyone else in that initiative group is incapacitated. One death save failure for the Sorcerer, one success for the Priest.
That's 11 total slashing damage taken by Hack. Ouch!
Hack finds out rather quickly that the warrior in splint that he was chasing is not some street thug. The man strikes so quickly with his swords that Hack has zero time to react, and takes three quick slices in rapid succession. His own blood is nothing new to the expatriate Highlander, and it serves only to continue his angry fury.
Hack is currently at 15 HP out of a possible 39 total. He's going to need some healzzzz.
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Beyond all reason, having clearly displayed themselves as enemies, the archers on the roof do not target Nikeisha, Psalm, or Luna. Instead, they once again launch arrows with vials of oil. Having no flame themselves since Quint took away their torch, they launch them all at the flame that is spreading across the manse's rooftop, the fire started by their cohorts on the rooftrop across the street.
It appears as though the distraction of the combat below has thrown off their aim, as several of the oil-flask arrows fly well wide of their mark landing on the wall beyond the building, or on the ground inside the compound, doing very little. Two, though land right next to the existing flame on the mansion's roof, and they cause the fire to quickly spread. Clearly these archers are focused, heavily, on making sure that building does not survive this encounter.
As Psalm invokes his druidic magic suddenly a shaft of moonlight slams down from the fullness of Laureoth above. The beam is so coalesced as to almost be fog-like, light made into matter and the screams of pain that emit from both the casters caught in the shaft of light are horrifying.
Mirrored Image?:
Mirror Image Test:1d20 ⇒ 5
Nikeisha's anger gives her uncommon clarity and her blast of glowing green Eldritch force slams into the real magic-user, bypassing all his illusory selves. The ball of glowing green force slams directly into the caster's face, knocking back, and knocking him over. His head hits the cobblestones at an alarming rate of speed. It is somewhat funny to watch the three illusions all smack the pavement simultaneously. The images flicker, but remain, all four images leak blood onto the street, but they also can be seen perceptibly breathing. The enemy caster is alive, for the moment. He may not be so shortly.
Man! That was a great confluence of dice roll events. The bad guy sorcerer's failed save on the moonbeam coupled with him missing the roll for Nikeisha's Eldritch blast to hit a duplicate instead of himself, all lead to him being knocked out just like that. Good show!!!! Now, thanks to unarmored movement, time to go punch the priest!
Luna, seeing opportunity runs full force, skirting the area of Psalm's searing moonlight. As she runs she draws on her inner power, wreathing her hands and feet in flames. (Using one ki point here for Fangs of the Fire Snake. If one of the attacks hit, I'll be using another to add the extra 1d10 fire damage.)
Martial Arts!:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20 More Arts that are Martial:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Oh yeah, it's on. Using another ki point for the extra 1d10 fire damage.
Luna's fists flash with lightning speed and hit like a boom of thunder, the flames engulfing her hands explode into the priest in bright flashes.
Her second punch lands squarely on the priest's jaw, the flames burning his garments and hair. When the priest hits the stone of the street, there is an audible crack so loud that even Quint, hidden though he is on the stable roof, hears it. Just like that Akassa's volunteers have dispatched two of the most dangerous foes in this skirmish. Now, the question is, do they run to help Hack and Jun, or attempt to destroy these archers who are raining fire down upon the mansion?
Yes, that's right, Luna did enough damage, that it, coupled with Psalm's previous Moonbeam damage, knocked that sucker flat! Now onto Jun.
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Inside the house, Jun realizes that he has not been seen, and decides to try and play that to his advantage. He steps to the side of the threshold and invokes a bit of magic to suggest that the half-orc just leave, and leave all the paperwork behind.
Suggestable?:1d20 ⇒ 5
Wonderful!
Jun's magical suggestion that the half-orc run out as fast as he can leaving the papers behind, for his own good, of course, sticks, and Jun watches in absolute delight as this captain of the mansions forces does exactly that, blowing past him and straight down the stairs. Jun then walks into the room and grabs the leather sack the captain left behind, he also begins stuffing as many of the loose parchments and papers from the top of the desk into the satchel as he can.
Okay I need to take a break here. I realize it is the bad guy's turn in the initiative, but I've got a couple things to take care of before I can get to that. Fun!!!!
Hacks reflexive swing is turned away by the warrior's splintmail, but after pursuing the man into the main building he throws his rage and muscle behind a second swing and cuts through mail into flesh, though not quite as deeply as he would have liked. A small trickle of blood is all that his heavy effort gains. The warrior turns to face him and clangs his swords together in a taunting display.
Purse-ception:
Perception Contest:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Quint not having a good enough angle to locate any tell-tale items on the archers on the rooftop adjacent to his own, uses his newly practiced magical talent to swipe items from a distance to grab one of the arrows with an oil flask strung just behind the tip. Giving the arrow and vial a quick inspection relates nothing important, no markings, no particularly unique details. It appears, very much so now, that whomever these agents are, they do not want to have their identities discovered.
In a flash, literally, the chaos on the street erupts into nightmare. The caster with his mirrored images invokes magic and fires forth three separate beams of red-hot flame from his fingertips. One narrowly misses Luna, another flies well over Psalm's head hitting the wall of the stable behind him and leaving a scorched mark in the wood. A third though slams directly into Nikeisha's chest burning clothes and singeing flesh. At that same moment the man next to him that called for the spectral floating glaive fires a beam of his own magic, this also flies directly at Luna, but her reflexes are too quick to be struck by something she could see coming. Unfortunately in so dodging she did not see the spectral glaive float right at her. It struck down in a wicked arc, and cut the elf's back open causing her intense pain. Bright red blood begins to stain her clothes.
Embroiled in the combat on the street level does not prevent anyone from seeing arrows fly into the roof of the mansion behind the walls of the compound to the north, hearing the shatter of glass and watching the sudden fire erupt on top of it. The blaze spreads quickly and it is lost on no one that that is the roof of the building where Jun and Hack disappeared. It seems obvious that whoever these attackers are, they want this mansion destroyed, and possibly all its inhabitants with it.
Nikeisha took only 2 damage from the Scorching Ray, but Luna took max damage, 11 HP, from the Spiritual Weapon. Thank goodness the Guiding Bolt missed!!! Or things could have gotten really ugly, really fast. :)
Would you like to use the Ready action, because 5e doesn't have a hold or a delay. You're either using your Action to Ready any other Action based off of a stated triggering event or circumstance, or forfeiting. When you use the Ready Action, whenever the triggering event or circumstance happens between your turn in one round and the start of your turn in the next round, you use your Reaction to carry out the previously stated Action. Man, that's a lot of action! :P Let me know if you have questions, I feel like I didn't explain that very well.
That's a separate attack. He moved through and out of your reach once, you closed distance, and now he moved out of it again. So you can roll a separate OA, plus, it is your turn in the initiative so you can post your actual turn's worth of movement and actions as well.
Psalm's indication that the nicely dressed female, who was absolutely paralyzed by fear of the chaos surrounding her, escape to the west, was immediately heeded, and followed by the guards that had their clothing fires doused by Nikeisha and Luna following suit. Apparently whatever the guards were getting paid to guard the shipment was not enough for them to continue to risk their lives. Loyalty, apparently, is more costly than their wages. At leas the street is cleared of most bystanders at this point, Luna thinks, as she watches the heavily armored warrior that Hack had tried to halt slide through the wooden gate of the mansion north of the street. Then, to her absolute horror, she watches the man slice down two of the people that came pouring out of the compound's main building as if he were simply cutting through paper, and then enter the building that Jun just went into. That coupled with the fires spreading up the sides of the compound's wooden palisade wall, and would be guards becoming porcupines of arrows, makes processing the whole scene a brain-hurting mess.
Then it goes from brain hurting to potentially body hurting as another of the flaming crates on the furiously burning wagon explodes with a crack of thunderous noise spraying flaming bits all over the area. Hack takes a couple burning scraps in his flesh, cutting and singeing, because he's too busy trying to avoid be sliced by a massive spectral glaive that floats in middair beside him. Luna barely dodges out of the way of the burning hunks of wood.
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Inside the main building of the compound, Jun tears off up the staircase, imagining anything crucially important to be in a master's office or bedchamber on the top floor. After turning the corner Jun stops in the threshold of a door where he watches a massive half orc, well armored and armed hastily throwing scroll tubes, and parchments inside a large leather sack.
Distractions:
Jun Stealth Check:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
For the moment the man, distracted by gathering up whatever documents he's rapidly packing away, does not notice Jun is there.
Jun, I used the Dash action for you, so you could get up the stairs and to that first doorway. I also took some liberty with a couple things in the courtyard, treating a couple of the guards as story elements, and not even rolling attacks for the warrior that blew past Luna and Hack. Hack, you would get an OA as the warrior left your reach again; you can roll that as part of your post, and I'll retcon the damage accordingly. :)
Are you suggesting the Republic might have a regiment of enforcers that are strictly "off the books," who go out and do the dirty work the regular army can't be seen doing? Audacious! Absurd! Who would volunteer for such things? ... O.o
No, Psalm, none of the combatants that you've seen have any markings that label them as Republic soldiers. Incidentally, if the Republic were going to stop a shipment of any kind, it wouldn't be by exploding it from distance. It would be by stopping it with an armed force, and opening crates and barrels to check for contraband. :)
Chaos takes on a new definition with what unfolds next. A man, dressed in robes, carrying what looks like a shortspear, moves directly into the thick of the chaos of the street, and completes a spell. Instantaneously there appear to be three more of him, exact duplicates. He is followed by another figure in robes over mail. He's a mace to hand and the mace head appears in the form of a dragon's clawed hand. He too completes a spell, and a spectral glaive appears immediately behind Hack, slashing through midair with no wielder controlling it.
Spiritual Weapon Attack!:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17 Spectral Glaive Damage:1d8 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
The weapon of magical force slams into the group's barbarian and breaks open flesh with the force of the attack.
In a flash, unlooked for and somewhat intrusive, Quint is suddenly aware of exactly where some other danger is lurking. For just the barest of moments he looks through another set of eyes, eyes well up in the sky, and sees two more archers on a roof adjacent to the Shepherd's compound to the East, they fire four arrows in quick succession on the guard that was in the northeast corner of the compound's rampart defenses. The guard falls off the wall to the ground with three arrows buried deep, almost up to the fletching, in his neck.
Current Initiative = Luna, Psalm, Nikeisha, Jun. Chaos it is! :) Have fun picking your combatants. :P
Three of those milling about the hallway in the main building take Jun at his word and run out into the courtyard to see where they might help. A fourth, though, who was checking through gear in his pack, ignores the order to leave. All things considered, an excellent ruse, and Jun is now all but alone on the Shepherd's main floor.
Hack's attempt to shove back the charging warrior is met with more than equal strength, and his push is rebuffed. The man gives Hack a grimace and a growl, slamming his swords together in a menacing clang.
Quint's unwitting opponents stare in disbelief as the torch they were using to light their arrows flies off the roof and lands on the cobbled stone below. Thankfully the night is clear and the light of Eafphqu's moons, all four of them, as Sylgja has been a waxing crescent since the tenth of this month, shine enough light to maneuver by.
Of note Quint, realistically dim light would cause anyone on a roof top to take careful steps, thus slowing them down. 5e, however, attaches zero movement penalty to dim light (or darkness for that matter). I do know some DMs that have houseruled this, making darkness into difficult terrain and dim light redacting 10' of a character's total movement. Since we have not even talked about such things, we'll continue to run as written, which means the skulks on the roof adjacent, can act normally in the dim light.
Quint gets a sort of vague sense that the archers he can see are not the only danger afoot, but the feeling is fleeting and not specific enough to pinpoint. Sorry your owl didn't see the two archers on the other roof, and as of yet the other two enemies have done nothing hostile. I'm still holding onto that "a missed roll won't miss if it's close" too, because this promises to be a long battle, and it might be of greater use, later.
Psalm, knowing that Hack was been working for Hambuc-ham as hired muscle, and that Jun has been working as a supervisor for Diamond Imports, and seeing the two, albeit briefly, together here, I'm certain he would put one and one together and get two. Meaning, Psalm is astute enough to realize that whatever Hack was guarding, Jun was in charge of delivering, and somebody has taken it upon themselves to prevent that final delivery, to deadly cost. Is that kind of what you're looking for?
Hack, some points for clarification. You would have taken the OA outside of your turn, so you could not have moved in front of the running warrior at that time, as an OA is a use of your Reaction, and doesn't allow for movement. If you do want to move in front of the warrior and block his path, you'd have to use the Shove rules from PHB pg. 195, because otherwise he's blocking your path to get around. It's essentially replacing your Attack action with a contested Strength Athletics check. If you succeed, you can shove the warrior 5' into any unoccupied space. Then you could use your movement to clog up the sallyport doorway. So, you can keep that attack, and if you want to shove, just roll an STR Athletics check. I'll take over from there. :)
Luna, if the halfling commoners you ran past were combatants, yeah, you'd have taken an OA for leaving the reach of the one, but as they are bystanders, no worries. :) BTW thanks for the path of indication, I've since deleted it because the map is cluttered enough. XD. Lastly, Luna, using the Dash action to move twice your normal speed prevents you from actually being able to put out the fire of the guard you've approached. You could do that on your next turn. You do still have your reaction for this turn, though, should you need it.
Nikeisha's instincts and magic pay immediate dividends as she puts out the fire of one of the men that was guarding the wagon load of goods. Her calls for the archers atop the mansions palisade ramparts fall on deaf ears though, and arrows keep firing erratically onto the rooftops across the street where the arrow was perceived to have come from. Some miss their mark wide and stick in the sides of buildings, in between cobble stones, and others narrowly miss some of the street's bystanders. Luna narrowly avoids several errant arrows on her way to try and help save some of the wagon's fallen and burning guards. Psalm moves up and looks about for some useful thing to do, or some sign as to why in the world this wagon was targeted in the first place, and sees nothing useful. Jun, however, ever the savvy opportunist tears off into the manse's compound and right into the main building, running past a slew of men and ladies spilling out the door to see what's the matter. Upon entering the building he sees people in a panic, some running, out, some running in, some just looking around for somebody, anybody to give them some direction as to what to do.
Jun!! Love your plan. I've put a new map on the battle grid below the street map and put you on it. You're inside the building. Since moving there was only your movement, you could still take an action or bonus action if you'd like. It won't affect anything that's happening outside, so you can still post that after I've posted the next part of the initiative. I'll post any reactions from the people inside after seeing what you want to do there.
Arrows come whistling in from the rooftop across the street, no mistaking it, the moonlight coupled with the light of the torch they're using to light their arrows gives the dread archers away. The first arrows that rain down wobble in flight, and as one crashes directly at Psalm's feet, he understands why. They had vials of oil strung to the tips. Oil splashes all over the wooden walls of the compound in two separate places. Then arrows aflame smack right into the freshly oiled spots, starting the walls themselves on fire and creating heavy oil-thick smoke, that obscures the sight of some of the archers atop the ramparts. A third fire tipped arrow lands harmlessly beyond Psalm in the grass and is guttered out by the dirt.
As those new fires burst to life Luna and Hack watch a heavily armored man, wearing splintmail with a long and short sword to hand, and a loaded crossbow looped on his belt next to a quiver of quarrels burst from around the corner of the building from whence the arrows came flying, he runs right between the two of them and on the heels of Jun into the manse's courtyard.
Luna and Hack, you are free to use your reactions to make an OA against that armored man if you so choose. He didn't attack you, but he came from the same direction as the arrows came flying in. That might be enough of an indicator for either of you to attack. Not sure, you do what you think your character would do in that situation. :) Maybe just follow him...? I'm loving this battle so far. I love the chaos of it. It feels very much like a battle on a crowded street would feel. :)
From their position above him on the adjacent roof, Quint can clearly make out three archers attempting to hide, but the bright white light of Laureoth makes them clear as day to him, though no one on the street has a good line of sight to them. On the street chaos explodes just as surely as the crate of whatever alchemical reagent the archer's flaming arrow ignited. Commoners scatter around near residences, some just stand dumbfounded watching the battle as if unaware that a stray arrow might take them to meet the gods in a mere moment. Guards on the walls of the Shepherd's compound mill about with arrows nocked, some firing blindly into the night, others looking for targets. Jun looks to the flaming wagon and realizes that if there are any more crates full of whatever substance exploded in flames, there is more danger than just hidden attackers.
Okay!!! Map is updated. I tried to give a little bit of the hectic feeling of chaos on crowded city streets by putting bystanders around. Transferring the map from my map making program to Google left the north-south gridlines of the grassy parts, unseen, so we'll have to use the gridlines from the cobbled streets as our guide for movement there. Grid squares are 5' increments. For the purposes of this combat, I'm going to be playing everyone that is not a PC or NPC Bad Guy, as either martially ineffective, or adding to the chaos. They'll enter into things in unpredictable ways, and may even score a hit or two on occasion, but don't count on them for any help. :)
Current Initiative = Luna, Jun, Psalm, Nikeisha. You four can act whenever you have time to post. OH! Please realize that for now, nobody except Quint actually has any idea where specific enemies are. Meaning, even though you see their colors listed in the initiative, your characters don't understand that those people on the street are actually bad guys, which is part and parcel of the chaos I'm trying to mirror. :) Let me know (in Discussion thread) if you have any questions. :) Otherwise, make your initiative action and movements whatever you think your character would do in that situation. ;)
--Rydwyrna-- Various Locales -- Week of Ilsa 15th through the 21st--
Tensions in the city have eased, if only slightly. Castle Redwood is still closed to the public, for the most part. A tent has been placed outside one of the sallyport doors and citizens can request an audience with their elected officials, but rumor has it that only very few have been let in, and that those that were let in are rich or influential citizens. Beyond that, as a metropolis like Rydwryna is wont to do, things have basically gone back to normal. This is due, in no small part, surely, to the fact that the Republic is built much more on the backbone of commerce than on politics. Many places around the city are already gearing up and decorating for the celebration of Freedom Day, the memorial of the end of the Nine Years War, and signing of the peace treaty with King Haedwulf. New whitewash and paint are being applied to building facades and signs, banners and flags are hanging, and colorful displays are set up in many shop windows, ushering in the day of celebration. Freedom Day is usually topped off by a massive parade of the Orders along Republic Way, intermingled with the Senators in carriages or palanquins. Rumors of late question whether or not the parade will still take place, or if so, to the same degree as years past, as the Orders have been dispatched in force throughout the city to maintain the peace. It is among these rumors that Akassa’s volunteers continue their search for information of a secret society that might be attempting to destroy the Republic from the inside out. To complicate matters worse, in the backdrop of everything is the impending convention of the Senate. The first of Brunhild when the new senate session convenes is mere days away...
Of Cults and Corners: Psalm’s Week 2 Investigation:
Thjorvar looks around warily as Psalm asks his question, and then pulls the half-man into the corner table in the kitchen before responding. ”Psalm, my little friend, please be careful in whose earshot you speak such things! You want information on what The Hand of the Republic found out about the cult that the now imprisoned Senator Enwelros was a part of? The best place to get that information is from Senator Avery Chaucer, Senator of Northwatch province; the province they all hail from. She was the only person to have a sit down meeting with them all… well except for the parents of two of them who were living here in the city, and they were killed the same night they met with Enwelros. Nasty business that. And, obviously they met with Enwelros, but you know how that went. Problem with meeting Avery is going to be getting past the bureaucracy that keeps Castle Redwood closed to the public, and unfortunately I’m not going to be of any help there, not until Akassa comes to visit me again, and I never know when that will be. You’re welcome to try getting past the paper pushers at the door, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.” So it is that Psalm spends his week meandering about looking in every wayward corner for any scrap of information he can gather about followers of the dead goddess Kraiula, dragons, ancient elven conflict, and a strange blue star of four points, with a long tail. Funnily enough it is back in the common room of Thjorvar’s Pegasus that Psalm gets one of the best pieces of information he’s had to date. ”That’s the star of Aranon Ethalion. It’s etched into the side of his mountain fortress. It’s an impenetrable dungeon that any adventurer worth their salt wants to get into. Far as I know, none yet have been able to enter. He’s an elf out of myth, can’t even recount all the stories I’ve heard about him. Champion of one of the gods, a god himself, a mad wizard, a destructive tyrant. All I do know is, I’ve seen the outside of his fortress, that star is there, you see people wearing that symbol around, they must have some kind of connection to his legacy.”
En Guarde, or not En Guarde: Quint’s Week 2 Investigation:
All of Quint’s various eyes turned on the Shepherds large and fortified compound tells him very little that he couldn’t have figured on his own. Thieves and fences go in and out at all hours, no doubt diving into whatever gambits they’ve got going in the city. No well known aristocrats or rich merchants enter the compound, or if they do it’s while they are in quality disguises. That’s all to be expected of course, and nothing outside of the ordinary. What finally piqued Quint’s interest in week two of his searching about for conspiracies was an off-handed comment one of his street-kid spies made as he was paying them for their work on his behalf. ”No Order Guard around it, so we don’t have too much trouble loitering about.” The Guard would have to be blind not to see some of the more notorious thieves in the city all congregating in this one compound. Blind, or, more likely, turning a blind eye… Somebody far up in the ranks would have to be giving that order. The order to leave the place alone, which can only mean one of two things: a high ranking Guard official is part of the conspiracy, or the Shepherds are actually working for the Republic?! Neither of which makes further investigation any easier. Then, one night as Quint sat munching on a heel of bread he’d swiped from Thjorvar’s kitchen, not because he needed to, Thjorvar kept them well fed, but more because he missed the sport of it, Quint had to squint and take a second look because he thought he saw Hack among a group of hired muscle standing watch as a wagon full of crates and barrels was parked outside a small gate on the back side of the building. And was that Jun driving the wagon? His desire to see closer suddenly became reality as his vision shifted into the head of the owl that had been hanging about ever since he performed his summoning ritual. Looking clearly through the owl’s eyes, perched atop one of the watchtowers, Quint saw that it was in fact Hack, axe to hand, watching out warily for danger, and Jun directing men to unload things. He’d have to ask them about that next time he saw them.
Good for the Goose: Jun’s Week 2 Investigation:
Finding out that the rice being delivered to Order of the Fist monastery compound was, in fact, coming from the Diamond Imports company started to stick a few things together, and not necessarily for the good. Getting hired on as a shipment supervisor was so easy, Jun started to think they knew he was actually attempting to infiltrate the company, but after only a few days work he realized it probably had more to do with his slightly pointed ears. Every person in a power position in the company is a half-elf. Sure they have laborers, guards, and grunts of every race and skin color, but everyone that is privy to paper record keeping, is a half-elf, the local city boss is a half-elf with the blood of the plainspeople in her, her skin is dark as a bat wing. Jun saw her on occasion, from a distance, and heard her name, Aldaviel Holimion, but being only his first week, he was never put in a position to meet with her face to face. He was, though, put in charge of moving shipments off of ships, into warehouses, separating them, and taking charge of certain shipments as they made their way to destinations all throughout the city. It was this charge that gained Jun one of his best pieces of information yet, and that because he was a half-elf, reputable, and privy to paperwork. The four pointed star was stamped, albeit a very small stamp, in the bottom right hand corner of the manifests of some of the company’s shipments. So small as to go unnoticed by anyone not really looking for it, but Jun was looking for it. The goods in the shipments weren’t any different than any others, at least as far as he could see. Food, trade bars, spices, crafting goods, precious metals, gems, exotic animals, Diamond Imports dealt in almost everything, and none of the stamped goods seemed any more special, but then again, Jun wasn’t able to open any of the crates, barrels, or sacks. So, it could be that they were special, but being his first week, Jun wasn’t about to destroy his opportunity to get further up the hierarchy by damaging goods. After finding the stamp, though, he kept track, and it became very clear quite quickly that the goods on the manifests with that stamp were handled with extremely intense care. Some even guarded by mercenaries that didn’t work for Diamond Imports, but were contracted by associates of various supervisors. Thus it was that one evening, as one such shipment was being delivered to a rather large fortified estate in the city’s eighth district, Jun saw Hack show up as one of the hired guards. The two nodded at each other as imperceptibly as possible, and went on about their business as if they didn’t know each other, but clearly there would be stories to tell after their work night was over.
Visible Ink: Nikeisha’s Week 2 Investigation:
Paying the coppers to one of the cities more reputable courier companies to get her letters to some of her old acquaintances who served as hired hands at the Arcane Order seemed well worth the price, since she’d never be allowed foot on the premises, and she didn’t want to be seen there anyway, anonymity was still key to her investigation at this point. The response she got was rather unsettling. It read: Nik, these are dangerous questions to ask. For your own safety, leave it alone. It was signed, only, Kithrana. Kithrana, the whimsical halfing, one of her favorite girls to wander the streets with after dark. Something about the letter didn’t sit right. Kithrana wasn’t a girl that normally let her own safety get in the way of something. Nikeisha thought her a bit brash and reckless with her own safety, on many occasion, actually. Likewise, Kithrana was verbose to a fault, and this letter was so terse… Also, Kithrana was frugal, if a quarter piece of parchment would do, then that is exactly what she would use, but this brief message filled out only the top few lines of a full sheet of brand new paper. As it was the only response she’d received Nikeisha pulled the parchment out of her pockets on multiple occasions to look at it again, puzzling over it. Thus it was that one evening as she pulled the parchment from her pocket to examine it once again, while she sipped a mug of chamomile tea, holding it near the heat of the lantern on Thjorvar’s table, she caught the first glimpses of Kithrana’s hidden message. A simple trick, one they’d used more than once, but had had no cause to use since they were young and small, lemon juice. Using lemon juice as ink, the words became invisible to the naked eye, but as soon as the paper was exposed to some heat, the lemon juice would burn just a bit, and become as visible as any other ink. Pure genius. Holding the paper as close to the lantern as she dare, Nikeisha finally realized why Kithrana had been so clandestine and terse. The message scribed in lemon juice was, BEWARE, Ethes, High Transmuter, many are his minions. Nikeisha’s breath caught in her lungs. So high? No doubt Ethes had every magical means at his disposal, but lemon juice is not magical by any means. Sometimes mundane secret messages trump even the greatest spell. Nikiesha had the sudden urge to burn the letter and protect her friend, but it might be the only piece of evidence any of them had to point to another high ranking official as being part of the conspiracy. Instead she stuffed the paper in her pocket and ran out into the street, to find any of her companions. This news needed to be shared and quickly! She bumped into Psalm just after turning a corner, and was about to say something when an explosion of flame and sound shattered the quiet night. Without hesitation she and Psalm ran to the direction of the light ans sound.
Muscly Muscle: Hack’s Week 2 Investigation:
Brantar Hambuc-ham was a man of few words, and Hack disliked that not at all. Brantar introduced Hack to one of his higher ups and asked if he’d be okay with protecting some goods as they moved about the city, protecting them from everyone, even the Guard, should that be necessary. Of course the Highlander’s answer was, “yes.” Thus it was that Hack spent many nights during their second week back in Rydwyrna walking alongside wagons as they left warehouses and moved all throughout the city. Shipments to every Order compound, to backstreet shops of ill repute, and high end shops on Republic Way, to private residences, and even to farmers with tents sent up in the tent bazaars inside the walls. Occasionally he’d have to shove somebody away from the wagons with his axe, but most of the time his size and demeanor was enough to prevent anyone from doing anything stupid like trying to steal the goods he was protecting. If anybody was asking his opinion, though nobody was, he’d have said it felt like somebody was supplying a hidden army mingled throughout the city, Supplying them for what, he could never know, because he was hired as muscle, and never knew what it was he was protecting. On the night when Jun joined him, he felt that strange tingle in his spine, the tingle he got always before an upcoming battle. He’d not seen a real fight since he left the pits for the streets, and good silver coin in his pocket. When the fire arrow whistled into the crate, he instinctively ducked and held up his shield, protecting himself from the bulk of the blast, some of his companions were not so lucky, they rolled around aflame and screaming on the ground. Popping up, the barbarian saw Jun was behind the safety of the sallyport door, he’d been protected from the blast as well.
Spicy Ricey:Luna’s Investigation Week 2:
Finding who it was that actually opened the sacks of rice that were dumped on the leather mat in the cellars of the Order of the Fist, was easy. Getting close to them was not, especially because Luna’s status and elven heritage actually made her too conspicuous to blend in. Thus it was that she had to actually bribe one of her new Order friends to do some digging for her, some digging that could actually have gotten the initiate booted from the monastery. But high elven favor and silver coins will make many things move that otherwise wouldn’t. Thus it was that when she finally found out that what was being taken out of the rice seemed to be glass vials full of some viscous substance, she felt like her week’s worth of cajoling and volunteered kata instruction left her with more questions than answers. Why pack vials in rice, in secret. What could be in them that was so important. Were they magic? How did they fit into the larger scheme. It was as she pondered these things, walking back from the monastery of a night that her reverie was interrupted by a sharp sound and a flash of light. Luna ran to see what had caused the ruckus and saw all of her companions, save Quint, on the street in the middle of a scene of rampant chaos and fire.
If it wasn't obvious, I've maneuvered things so that you are all together for a surprise, break-out battle outside the Shepherd's Compound. Unfortunately I don't have time today to get that all set up. I hope to have it all ready to go and initiative up tomorrow morning, but I wanted to give everyone a chance to see the fruits of their week 2 labors before we jump into it. :)
After a week of asking around the circles of people with whom Jun holds level, merchants, traders, and the like, frustratingly little incriminating evidence surfaced. To be sure bribes are being paid. Guards purchased to turn their eyes from some dealings that the Republic would frown upon, but such things are always the way, and do not point a twanging crossbow at the existence of secret societies or persuasive cults. Following the money, sadly, showed little else besides the robust economy that makes the Republic prosperous and, usually, peaceful. On the other hand, Jun did make a note of some smaller merchant houses that were ripe for takeover. A bribe here to prevent a sale, or a bribe there, to a captain, to “have a shipwreck” and lose some cargo, could present some prime opportunity to gain warehouses, laborers, and more than a few lucrative supply contracts with a few of the shop owners in the city. If Jun was better resourced, he might be able to make a go of starting his own shipping company on the carcasses of some smaller business men who didn’t have the stomach or moral ambiguity needed to survive in the metropolis of Rydwyrna. The one loose thread he had discovered, and needed more time to yank on, was the rumor that the dwarves were contracting the sale of their ores, precious metals, and gemstones through a company that Jun recognized from his days in Tradebay City, a company that, for whatever reason, seemed to hire almost exclusively people of varying degrees of elven descent. Such a thing is not unheard of, of course, there is a strong undercurrent of racism present in many parts of Iewiuf. That’s not what is so bothersome about the deal. The bothersome element is that a lot of the major dwarven noble houses are apparently using this one merchant company, full of watered-down elves, to move and sell their product instead of using dwarven merchants, of which there are plenty. It’s not the racism that’s bothersome, it’s the lack of racism. Dwarves using elves when dwarves would do just as well speaks of something strange. It could just be that this newer (they’ve only been in business a little over a decade) company offers a better price. Dwarves are greedy enough to sell out their own race if the clink of coins offered is large enough. Still, it’s worth more looking into. The local face of the company, Diamond Imports was a female half-elf named Dúnorchel.
Seen and not heard, but they hear things… -- Nikeisha’s Investigation:
Nikeisha’s first attempts to get anything out of anybody were more than frustrating. For the bulk of her interactions with the “lesser” citizens of Rydwyrna, it seemed like steady coin and agreements of non-disclosure, pretty standard practice with people whose servants are in positions to overhear things of a sensitive nature, would win out. She feared she wouldn’t get anything useful except a few good meals and drinks while she tried to pry anything worthwhile out of anybody that would give it. That is until she met Avrabêth, an imigrant plainswoman who was hired as footman for Enwelros’s carriage. Seems Avrabêth had been off visiting family when the whole disaster went down, and came back to find out that she no longer had a job. Therefore, Nikeisha’s promise of coin, with possibly more to follow if the information was good, grabbed her and sucked her in, and since her master was in prison, she had no other means of income in the city, and plainspeople have a tendency to not care terribly much about what pieces of paper they’ve signed their names on, Nikeisha learned something very interesting indeed. Enwelros was in the habit of making frequent trips to the tower of the Arcane Order, at odd hours of the day. She knows this specifically because she was the footman for his carriage, and no matter how shady an aristocrat’s business might be, they still, apparently, couldn’t be seen walking through the streets. Once again ego serves as a weakness. Of course, trips the tower of the Arcane Order don’t, necessarily, mean anything terrible or clandestine, even if they were done at odd hours. Hells, her own meetings with Akassa seemed to be at odd hours and places. Might just be that’s how senators did things. Even so, that in conjunction with what her group of friends had found in Arthugh’s journal certainly needed some follow up.
Ancient History -- Psalm’s investigation:
Maldeth’s vouch and company got Psalm into the lower two levels of the Arcanium, just like he said they would. What Psalm was not prepared for was the vast number of, and height of, the bookshelves there. That and the number of armed guards walking constant sentinel around the shelves, the entrances, and the exits. Another surprise, at first a bit unsettling, though understandable, was the fact that the entire Aracanium is shrouded in a veil of magical silence. Even if you wanted to speak to someone in the library, you couldn’t. Which, obviously, prevents people from interrupting the meditation of others, and, also, as Maldeth later related, prevents spellcasters from attempting to cast any bits of magic they might find among the tomes. While the Arcanium is incredibly organized by subject, author, and even relative age of the work, that proved to help the gnome only slightly, in that it was easy to find books on the myths surrounding the dark elves and the dragon queen Kraiula. Sadly, everything Psalm found had basically already been relayed to him by Maldeth. It seems there is little to no substantial evidence, let alone any written eye witness accounts, of any elven and dragon war. That coupled with the number of scholarly introductions stylizing all such stories as mere myth, with all real truth lost to ancient history, put Psalm essentially the same place he was before he walked into the library. Left with the proverbial fistful of quickly falling sand. Is it possible there’s been a recent resurgence in interest in an ancient dead monster, a long-forgotten queen of dragons? Sure, but it was just as likely that there were dark and hidden shrines to Desmos in people’s bedrooms. Worship of the Dark was nothing new, and while it could prove a nuisance if given time and energy, it rarely toppled governments, or caused wars, at least in Psalm’s understanding of things.
Baaaaaaaa -- Quint’s investigation:
Shepherds need sheep, that is as true in the city as it was in the pastoral countryside of Blueblossom Haven. In Rydwyrna sheep were plenty; there were always purses to be cut, marks to be swindled, lonely aristocrat’s sons to be bilked of their coin on the promise of love. But just now Quint was actually moving about the city on legitimate business… well, legitimate enough, when a senator asked you to be stealthy and go where she couldn’t, it didn’t make it legal, but it did, at least, make it morally sanctionable. Quint used his alley interaction with the Shepherds to mark his targets. He needed somebody dumb enough to follow, and Rook was just the man. Quint’s absence from the Pegasus was noted, but not discussed, the red-haired gnome knew the city better than most, and if he was only spending a moment or two at the inn where they’d all taken rooms, it was, no doubt, for a good reason. And a good reason it was. Quint started mentally noting everywhere Rook spent time. While Rook wasn’t much more than hired street muscle, well, not muscle really, Rook was better with a bow than some of the Order of the Wild’s Rangers. He could hit a rat in the eye from sixty feet almost without fail. Rook wasn’t important, but he was important to have along if you needed protection, and that’s exactly how Quint found one of the Shepherd’s “safe” houses. A new safe house, and not some shanty in District Four. No, a palatial estate in District Eight, within a fireball’s distance of Castle Redwood. Shepherds knew better than to try and set up shop in District Eight, or at least they used to. Something, someone, or maybe someones had given them new confidence, and that was more telling than anything else. Maybe the undershepherds didn’t really know what was happening. Maybe Azuri wasn’t lying and she really didn’t know anything about the four pointed star or the many-colored star of claws. Maybe she didn’t get let into the “inner circle,” but someone did, and Quint had his hunches that the inner-circle met somewhere in the manse that Rook sometimes perched on the wall of, bow at the ready, scanning for threats from every angle. People who are so afraid of unseen threats, are usually so afraid because they know how dangerous unseen threats can be, because they are those unseen threats. Quint’s only problem now was figuring some kind of way to get into that estate, or to get promoted high enough in the Shepherd’s ranks to be asked to go there, neither of which would happen overnight.
Grains of Rice -- Luna’s investigation:
Getting a meeting with Ascendant Xaneak is akin to trying to pull dragon teeth. In short, it’s not happening. But Luna didn’t really need to meet with the Ascendant in order to learn what she wanted to learn about the Order of the Open Fist. Setting foot in the compound Luna was reminded of her own years, just shy of a century, in the monastery that nestled in the trees of Alderanyë. The grace and agility of their katas sent Luna to a mental place of nostalgia. This purposeful serenity, this coiling serpent of hidden deadly power, this felt like home. But, it is not home, for Luna home is a concept more than a place. She is at home in her moral guidance, in her listening for the voice of the Lady Lion, in her hope that all the chaos of darkness could be vanquished by her peace and might. After visiting the Order compound for the better part of a week, many of the initiates took to treating Luna like one of their own, and they were all too happy to watch and learn as she taught them some things their instructors withheld from them for the time being. It was from one such grateful initiate that Bellaluna learned an avenue to focus her further investigations. Only a rumor perhaps, but rumors sometimes start for good reason, and this rumor smacked too much of truth not to follow up on. It concerned rice, strangely enough. Monks eat a lot of it, and so the Order of the Open Fist had a steady supply of the stuff coming in. That was all fine and good, except that recently the Fist’s supplies of rice were being inspected, entirely too closely and carefully for this initiate’s liking. Why? She couldn’t say. Nevertheless she found it irksome. Every bag of rice was being cut open and spilled upon a large leather mat in the cellar, and the initiates had to pick it bag up, sometimes grain by grain and put it into stone vats. For what? She could hardly see how picking up rice was helping her training…
Bite Your Tongue -- Hack’s investigation:
Just like Hack himself, his investigation was brief, brutal, and much to the point. After only a week of fighting in the pits, Hack’s prowess was obvious. He’d won well more than he lost, and when even those he lost to gave him complete respect. Before the end of the week, one of the veteran fighters told him he knew of way to make more money fighting less, and said he’d introduce Hack to his boss if he wanted. Obviously, he wanted, it was for that exact reason he found this underbelly of the city and returned to the Black Pegasus with fresh bruises in the middle dark every night. On the 14th of Ilsa, Desmoday, R.R. 146 Shenkt “Hack” Corchran was intruduced to Brantar Hambuc-Ham, a man with money who would pay good money for Hack’s protective services on occasion, and when he shook his hand, Hack noticed that the man had a very interesting tattoo in the skin between his thumb and forefinger, a blue star, with four points, and a long tail.
"Hmmmmm. I mean, you're asking hypothetical questions about mythical creatures and demigods, you realize that right? I'd guess, if that legend had any basis in fact, that there was at the very least some kind of connection between the Drow and Kraiula. They rode her dragons into battle after all, right?" Maldeth says. Then when Psalm asks about gaining access to the Arcane Order's library, her furrows his brow and says, "If I went with you, I could get you into the bottom two floors, and that'd be it. I'm not even allowed anywhere but those two floors! It's like they think the world's going to end if anybody reads the wrong book. Yeesh! If they ever got out of their study rooms and out into the wilderness they'd see there are a lot more dangerous things than books in the world. If you want me to take you, I will, but I can't today, I've got meetings with my superiors here soon, and it'll keep me busy the rest of the day. Maybe stop back later in the week, after I've received my new orders, I'll have a bit of down time before I have to head back out with a different squad."
In the morning he makes his way to the Order of the Wild facilities and seeks out any of the rangers he had previously known in the months he journed south from the mountains. After asking about he learned that one of his old friends Maldeth was in town. He asks around and stumbles on his old friend. "It seems the wind has blown you back to the capital. How long have you been couped up? We should get some breakfast." As he breaks fast with his former traveling companion he asks after the matter of the Dragon Queen, "I was thinking of one of the stories you once told me. About Kraiula, queen of the dragons. I need to get a handle of the legends, if any of them are true? Knowledge of her seems sparce."
Maldeth's Diatribe:
"Oy! Psalm, you little rascal. It's been a dog's age. Kraiula? Really? That's all ancient myth, ain't no one even seen a dragon in a few centuries, let alone a queen of dragons, but, if you want, I'll regale you with the same tale again." Maldeth takes a deep breath and then enters into the story. "Story goes like this.. Desmos had been sitting in his prison in the Abyss, unable to affect things here on good ol' Eafphqu, physically, but because people have darkness in their hearts, he didn't lose any influencial power. See? So, seems he got it into some crazy wizard's head to do some arcane experimentation, and become a bit of an amateur chirurgeon, piecing parts of beasts together and trying to give them life, right? Some tales tell that a bunch of the monsters we have to fight out in the wilds are the descendants of his creations. Regardless, seems like this wizard finally got it all right, and that his finest creation was Kraiula. Kraiula the rainbow headed queen of dragons. It also seems like Kraiula outgrew her britches on the double-quick hurry, and ended up eating Mr. wizard for a midnight snack. Story says she also started laying clutches of dragon eggs all over the damned mountains, and them what hatched were all the dragons that ruled the skies for so many centuries. That lasted until the elf-war, which is a myth in itself too, a war between two factions of elves. One faction thought they should conquer all the "lesser" races, and the other thought they should live in harmony with all races. My dad's an elf, and over 500 years old, and he says that war isn't recorded anywhere in their histories, though, now that I think about it, that'd be just the kind of tale the elves wouldn't want to remember..." Maldeth pauses as if thinking, for the first time, that if that story were true, it might be exactly the kind of thing the elves wouldn't want to remember themselves, let alone keep a paper record of. "Anyway, the faction that wanted to conquer got conquered themselves, and the stragglers escaped to the Shadowlands for survival. That's supposed to be where dark elves, Drow, came from, like their skin turned dark cause they adopted the dark as their home, or some such nonsense like that. I been rangin' a long time and I ain't never seen a dark skinned elf. I seen plenty of dark-skinned humans and half-elves, no doubt one parent somewhere along the line was a plainsman. Most of 'em were right decent folk. But... where was I? Oh! Dragons, yeah seems like their were dragons working for both sides during that war, metallic with the harmony loving elves, and chromatic working with the conquer loving elves. That war, supposedly, literally changed the landscape of Iewiuf and Eafphqu, and in the end, the peace loving elves not only defeated the other faction of elves, but they hunted down all the remaning dragons too, and finally killed Kraiula herself, throwing her body into the sea, her carcass, supposedly, is the land mass of Draketooth Isle, which I'm not sure really exists either, but I ain't never been to sea. I can't even stand travelin' by boat on the river, why anyone would want to go out in a hunk o' wood on the wide open sea is beyond me. So, anyway, that's it. The full story, but, like I said, Psalm, that's all just stories. You know? Who knows what part of it is true, if any. Dragons certainly did exist at some point, I've seen the skeletons. But some say they all died when the moon Thgol got busted half to bits, and that's what changed the landscape. Who knows what's true, you know? That about all you wanted to hear?" Maldeth smiles.
I'm just going to plant some seeds here based off of the rolls that Quint and Psalm had, in the hopes that it might narrow the sandbox a bit for those that feel overwhelmed. Then I'll wait for the "high sign" from everyone that they are ready to push things ahead to the end of the first week of investigation. In regards to that. If everyone just wants to make a post with a spoiler tagged "Investigation:[insert focus of investigation here]" and then whatever skill rolls you feel are the most appropriate for your character to make. I think every character has something they can offer here, every character has connections they've made, or can make. Even Hack. Hack might ask around about "underground" fighting pits where the rich gamble on the violence of the angry and less fortunate. In which case he might roll a survival check, or an intimidation check, or whatever he feels is appropriate. My point being, there are avenues of investigation that everyone has open. So just tell me what particular area or areas your character would focus on, and then roll the most appropriate skill dice. I'll put spoilers for each character in the Gameplay thread, in a post that's marked 'Week 1 Investigations,' after I see all those rolls. Then you all can take it from there. :) To get things started...
Quint's knowledge of shady characters:
Quint remembers a thieves' guild that tried incessantly to get him to join, The Shepherds. A guild he never joined because they would take a portion of all his 'earnings.' He does a quick mental inventory, brushing up on his thieves' cant so that he doesn't sound like a mark when he goes looking for an uncle or a brother. Thankfully, his knowledge of The Shepherd's symbology will help him locate their territory pretty quickly.
Psalm's recollections of myth:
Psalm, remembering his days of travel with some of the Order of the Wild Rangers, recalls a bit of lore, a wild myth, but a myth that has stood the test of time, so it might yet have some basis in fact. The myth of a deceased lesser deity, a dragon queen with five heads, each head was one color that is represented by the five pointed star drawing that Akassa shared. Her name... Kraiula, yes, that's it, Kraiula the dormant dragon queen. Her myth says that she was a monstrous child of Desmos sent to kill all humanoid life. She was defeated by champions of the Light, and her body tossed into the sea. Some say the island, if it truly exists, Draketooth Isle, is her corpse. If the cult that's making ripples is somehow seeking after Kraiula's legends, it might mean nothing at all. Surely there can't be a way to bring a five-headed dragon queen back to life?!
Thanks for posting the relevant citation from the setting site, Quint. @Psalm, yes, all Senders were handpicked from the ranks of the Arcane Order, and therefore owe their allegiance to the Republic and to the Arcane Order... not necessarily in that order.
