Fair thee well gentlemen and and gentlewomen. I will be leaving this game and hiding the gameplay to prevent it from showing on my campaigns tab.
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And if this does die, I would like to at least know who was evil and who was not.
If that's the case I'll say fair well to you all tomorrow. Maybe try out my experimental game.
Petrello's Haberdashery: Jacob stops casting and puts his hands up in a submissive gesture. "Organized chaos I guess."
"My graveyard?" Jacob asks, surprised. Were youths really visiting the graveyard? To scare each other or be alone, he wondered. But that problem was for another time. Maybe a few non-harmful, magical traps. "Children, they will do as they will." Jacob walks around the piles of stuff, careful not to disturb the organization, mulling over the information and listening to the owners answers to Tedal's questions. He has no more himself but he does nod to Silversky. They'd have to look over both the orchard and the graveyard for signs of a struggle.
"Yes, well, please keep your negotiator sheathed." Jacob had a feeling her weapon was like his, mostly for show. He himself carried a walking stick and small crossbow at his side. He hoped never to have to use it because he was likely to hit something other than the target. Jacob forgoes the map, letting the other, less knowledgeable group, use it. He knew his way around town and lead the two that decided to come, directly to Petrello's Haberdashery. Petrello's Haberdashery: As they walk through the orchard, Jacob finds the lack of workers odd. The mayor mentioned nothing about the orchard. Was she aware? What was this a symptom of, the disappearances or the insects? He turns to the others, "We might want to note this too," he says, pointing at the understaffed rows of fruit trees.
Jacob shows no signs of discomfort in the face of the angry owner. He keeps his hands folded in front of him and waits for a moment to speak.
"Please calm yourself sure. I actually could use a new pair of gloves but that is not why I am here this day. The mayor has asked us to look into the recent string of disappearances. I can tell its hit you quiet hard," he says peering around the room. For Jacob, such an act meant actually moving his head as no one could see his eyes. He'd had to become very somatic when talking with people since they could not see his expressions. "Would you care for some help cleaning up? While we do I'd like to ask a few questions about what happened." If that soothes the man's mood, Jacob uses his lowest cantrips to start moving things about the store and cleaning. He also places a notebook on a table and wills a quill to write his thoughts? Questions:
"Very well, the apprentices are the most pressing issue." Maybe the mayor should have chosen a leader. "There are 6 so I concur with miss Shale. I'll start with Betrona Pindlion."
As yet another newcomer enters, Jacob pauses, head swiveling between each person. Saringallow has never been known to be welcoming of newcomers. And yet, within this room now stands a Drow, an Ifrit, an anthropomorphized fox...and him too if he was being honest. The only two not out of place were the halfling and the human. Strange. He let none of the confusion get to his face, not that they could see it, and tried not to let it show in his voice. "I believe we are all aware of the theory of diminishing returns. Since we have two cases, maybe we should split the load. Three of us to find these insects and three to the masters' apprentices. We can keep the populace from making any connections that way and avoid undue panic. Perhaps mister Lightfoot could lead the investigation on the insects and I with the apprentices? We can meet up later at the tavern to share information."
"Well," Jacob starts, about to explain his attire, but then the door to the mayor's office opens. "Later perhaps." Jacob wasn't really surprised he had been asked to help. He had an amicable relation with most in this town and was quite knowledgeable in a lot of areas. Except. "I must admit, my knowledge of insects is not that expansive. Though, if we are talking of mindless creatures, would their not be something better than inconsistent sightings? Sounds like a conscientious attempt in stealth which implies greater intelligence. Apologies. Jacob Romero. Former student of magic in Ustalav," he says bowing to Miss Shale. "I've lived here for some time, so I think I shall start talking with the masters." He reads over the list once. "I see no reason not to just go down the list so Miss Pindlion it is. Anyone care to join?"
"Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt, I always say." A man in a mask approaches from the side. His mask is solid white and etched with beautiful carvings. He is covered from head to toe in handsome attire, showing not a bit of skin. "My good sir, the lady is a Drow. An underdark race that is, in the best of circumstances, met with suspicion by most people, anger, violence or fear in the worst," he says, courteously to the halfling. He then turns his mask to the drow woman. "I will admit a slight bit of suspicion myself but more than that is curiosity. What has drawn you to the light of the surface I wonder?"
Character submitted
I posted in discussion.
Everyone knows Jacob Romero. Why? Well, in a city where everyone is suspicious of one another, he wears a mask. Few in the town have ever seen his face, and for good reason. Rumor has it he is horribly scared from a spell gone wrong in his youth. Those that have seen can attest to the disfiguration. He is a wizard of some strength and spends his days at the cemetery as its caretaker. Normally such a role would be left to a cleric but he insisted, preferring the isolation. Rumors abound that he was a necromancer and just wanted to raise the whole plot in revolt and take the town. But he proved to be adept at what he did. He was surprisingly comforting to those that lost someone important to them and performed all the rights based on the person's chosen religion. Every week he would visit the market to purchase food and other supplies. And during these visits he was always genteel and respectful. He caused no problems to anyone and was the first to apologize if he felt he was at fault. Some still harbor doubts about his ambitions but he has never made any action that would draw suspicion. He is a model citizen.
It's been more than a week since anyone has posted. I will consider this game ended. If something changes just PM me.
*poke* *poke* C'mon little doggy. Giddy-up.
"Quite sure they are saying 'rip their throat out', but my Homo Lupus is a little rusty," Jacob says sarcastically. "But you are welcome to use diplomacy. Here's mine," He says lifting a crossbow from its harness at his hip. He pulls the string back with a grunt of effort and prepares to shoot at anything that gets near the door. Meanwhile, Rick and Morty continue their previous orders.
"Shoot better damn it."
A bony hand reaches up out of Jacob's fallen pack and grabs on to the floor, gouging furrows into the ancient wood. It is followed by a skeletal head and body. The bony warrior isn't very tall but it is wearing very new armor and weapons. "Morty, guard the door from the wolves and wolfmen," Jacob commands. It moves to comply and stands in front of the door, drawing sword and shield, and stand there defensively, allowing the others to pass. Another skeleton appears as well and claws its way out of the bag. This one is far taller and carries a bow. "Rick shoot the wolves not near an ally." It too complies and stands behind the first, knocking and readying a shot. For his part, Jacob gathers arcane energy and chants slowly, watching the progress of the others as they enter.
EDIT: Jacob, seeing little other choice, rushes to the lodge. He wasn't one for physical activity but imminent threat of being mauled by flea-bitten mongrels lent him strength. He opens the door and heads inside, heedless of the consequences the action might have. He sends four orbs of light up into the ceiling to illuminate the foyer to make sure his surroundings are clear. Once assured its occupancy consisted solely of him, he drops his bag to the floor and snaps his fingers. "Out now. The both of you," he says to the bag.
"We best make haste to the manor. It's the only defensible ground I can see in case these creatures prove to be hostile and not as frightened of this place as they look."
Jacob gives Yazmine an annoyed look. "Yes, and his arrows are quite imaginary too." He then turns away and awaits his companions arrival. "There are indeed man and beast ahead," the raven says upon returning. "They seem unable or unwilling to approach the manor."
Jacob turns to his flighty familiar and nods, as if his task was obvious. When the bird does not move he looks at it a again. "I'm not going. Send Rick." Jacob might have been concerned about the birds flippant use of the name of one his undead minions, seeing as the others didn't know yet, but he was more concerned by its lack of obedience. "Now," he orders. It was a strange sight to see a crow sigh but the bird complied. It takes flight and heads in the direction of the commotion.
"Beasts and men. Or both," he says remembering Zestelian's warning of lycans.
As Jacob quietly contemplated possible layouts, degree of decay and possible renovations for this lodge, he happened to hear sounds being carried over the winds. Sounds that did not conjure images of weak prey or welcoming people. They sounded large, deep and unwelcoming. He looks to Zestelian who appears to have heard the same since he points out a spot for the barge to land. "I think we have trouble ahead," he says calmly. He considered bringing out his companions but decides to wait. They weren't very bright or stable so a boat would be bad ground to defend.
Jacob takes two from the box. Apply now or later? Best wait until they got to the lodge. He wasn't sure how far away it was. Which reminded him, "How much further to the lodge?" he asks Aldric.
"Lycans? Hmm. If I am not mistaken magic is just as effective as silver. I will be fine but a few arrows and a sword would be convenient," he says more to himself as he goes over plans in his head.
Ah. So that's it, Jacob thinks in relation to the man's...thing's being. Pity he isn't interested in Necromancy. I could still study him. See if it is something to worth attaining. He takes leave of the conversation here but they would need to question him further in the morning. Especially about what else lurks in the forest.
Had Jacob known the truth of the thing before he might have considered his response a little longer but would probably come to the same conclusion. The man had an aura of necromancy which meant he was made of or could cast necromancy spells...or both. In either case that meant good things for Jacob's own research. "Sounds good to me." This of course was only his recommendation. Aldric was the default leader in this case. Not out of respect but indifference to Jacob.
Necromancy? he ponders. Not that was his vein of speciality.
Jacob squints at the hooded figure. He refuses to be illuminated. Why? It was good the ghost house forced him to prepare different spells for now he could see beyond the physical.
Xur?
"If it's just a cottage I might as well stay on the boat," Jacob comments to himself. Now why does he sound so off? Jacob wonders from the head of the boat. He looks back off into the forest, wondering. "Feigr. Check the surroundings." "Must I?" It asks boredly. "Now," he responds annoyed. Feigr the crow takes to the air to look out for trouble.
Jacob passes a the boat pilot an annoyed look. That vague comment about beasts wasn't helpful in designing plans against them. But he forgoes commenting and passes his gaze over to the dock. With a flick of his wrist he conjures 4 orbs of light and sends them flying towards the figure to light up his face. "Who are you he bellows to the figure."
"What exactly do you mean by fell to the Shudderwood," Jacob asks, sounding more curious than fearful. Indeed he seemed to regard the forest and its denizens with interest.
Jacob was relieved but also a little disappointed no one tried to make a move during the night. He would have loved to see their reaction to his...bodyguards. But it was probably for the best. He didn't know how the others would react. While he didn't care about their concerns, he did care about efficiency. It would make things move along smoothly the less they knew about his specialty.
Once preparations are complete and night is upon them, Jacob walks over to his pack. He flips the top flap over and stands up as a skeletal hand reaches up out of it. It does not, however, attempt to pull him in. Instead, it pulls itself out. Indeed a full, human skeleton pops out of the man's bag and stands before him at the ready. It steps aside as yet another skeleton pulls its way out of the bag. Surprisingly, both are clean and decked in fresh armor and weapons. One has a bow and the other, a sword and shield. "Mortimer. Rick. You know the drill. Mortimer guards the door and Rick wakes me in case of intrusion. Shoo" Both give no indication of understanding but they move to his command. Mortimer stands near the door, shield and sword ready, while Rick stands near the bed, bow in hand.
Up in his room, Jacob cracks open his spellbook and inhales the soothing aroma of parchment and ink...and magic. It was the one thing he didn't hate in the world. Within seconds he is immersed in the monotony of reciting words of power. Words that he could call on at a moment's notice to alter the very physics of the world. He loved being a wizard.
"I'll pass," Jacob says with a pompous sniff. "I care not for these theatrical frivolities. I shall be in my room studying."
"Words of wisdom," Jacob says, agreeing with the older Varisian.
Jacob sighs loudly. "Yes. Yes. Very interesting. Can we eat now?"
Jacob, for once, maintains a neutral mask rather than a full scowl. "I wouldn't get used to it. Ghost story aside, this place meets the bare minimum standards all inn's should adhere to. And there is no basis for comparison there. It's like trying to compare protection from evil to mage armor. In name they both protect but form, function, and execution they are all different. Its a futile argument."
Jacob takes a moment to get settled into his room. He lays out tomorrows clothes, moves the bedside table to be exactly 4 inches from the bed, folds the covers back, and a number of other compulsive actions. He keeps his pack and wallet within close reach though. He smiles smugly at the knock on the door. Good. He picks up his belongings and heads down to join the others for dinner.
"I will keep my belongings. Where will dinner be?" Jacob asks.
For the average male youth, the chance to spend a night with two attractive women would have been once in lifetime opportunity. But Jacob was not your average youth so his instinct was to look at her suspiciously. "Thanks but no. I will have my own room and I will not be disturbed," he says directing the last bit at the bellhop. "Knock before entering."
The tone and movements of the young bellhop lead Jacob to believe that he was legitimately frightened of something through the bars. "Please tell me that is a rehearsed monologue about dead guests. If there have been actual deaths or disappearances here then I will need to have words with the owner. I was lead to believe this was a novelty gag for tourists, not a legitimate threat. I don't take threats kindly."
Jacob follows, keeping an eye out for more strange occurrences.
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