Presenting Rhiannon Mableanbh, human Bard, resident of Trunau, and kind of playing a lot of the Celtic imagery the player's guide implies to the hilt. She's currently specced to slightly different build rules, but it's a quick fix to adapt her if she gets chosen, as is adapting the statblock to something else if you'd prefer your format.

Presenting Rhiannon Mableanbh, human Bard, resident of Trunau, and kind of playing a lot of the Celtic imagery the player's guide implies to the hilt.

So uh, what's the ETA on that map? Or should we assume the campaign's disbanded?

Rhiannon makes sure to attune herself to the Whisper-Rings before settling in, seeing no reason not to have that private line to her competition.

After settling into her location, she establishes the line of command; herself, Agna, Thaliel, and the head worker. She orders the construction of the garrison where they stand; the abundance of lumber around her will make for easy access to supplies, and provide a good location to rig in the woods traps should the need arise.

Once everything is settled, she decides to scout out the surrounding area, sending Thaliel South from Hex 1, Alandre North-East, and traveling North-West herself.

I'm willing to play nice and not peek at things meant for other players.

Rhiannon remains quiet even as he winks at her, remaining steely as she finishes her ale and heads out. "Mercenary group" sounds like she's up against people a little better organized than she had hoped for.

1d100 ⇒ 39

Rhiannon orders some ale as she regards the people in the inn. The words 'dragon treasures' catch particular interest, and she turns her head toward Thorin and Cyrioul. She slips over into an adjacent table nonchalantly to hear the details more closely.

Rhiannon brings with her both a cleric and warrior from her uncle's inner circle, as well as a dear friend and thief she knows from her time on the road.

Thaliel Eamane
Male Elven Ranger
Str 13, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 8
Skill points in: Climb, Handle Animal, Knowledge (Nature), , Knowledge (Geography), Perception, Ride, Stealth, Survival

Agna Rognar
Female Dwarf Cleric
Str 14, Dex 10, Con 13, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 10
Skill Points in: Diplomacy, Heal, Knowledge (Religion),

Alandre Burton
Male Human Rogue
Str 12, Dex 16 (14 +2 racial), Con 12, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 14
Skill points in: Acrobatics, Bluff, Disable Device, Disguise, Escape Artist, Intimidate, Knowledge (Dungeoneering), Perception, Sleight of Hand, Stealth,

Rhiannon can't remember the last time she entered a tavern and didn't go right for a corner she could set up in, but this was not the usual business. She got comfortably at a free table, drumming her fingers idly against the wood as she scoped out the area.

Sheet's done.

My bad, didn't take my laptop to school with me, and after running my game last night came home and passed out.

Rhiannon calls up Dancing Lights, and has the orbs part slightly and slowly circle around them to provide extra illumination.

Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

"It's definitely a magic circle, unless we're dealing with something that enjoys dispensing smoke bombs, mutilation, and really esoteric graffiti."

Rhiannon peered down the grate and shook her head. "I'm not going down there first. One of you big manly men go run point. And I suggest you do it fast, because we look like a lot crazy enough to be pinned with every crime in the past three years."

Rhiannon drew her bow and started walking toward the alley, in a bit of hurry so that she could actually get her spell off while it was useful. "I'll stay behind you, but mostly by coincidence." She then proceeded to do the exact opposite of that, dashing off impatiently, chanting and gesturing with her free hand. Once she got close enough, she threw the hand out, coating the wall where the figure climbed, and some of the space above that, in slick, slippery grease.

1/2 1st level spells cast.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Excellent.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 3 - 2 = 10

"I can heal. A little bit. Not very good at it, and I can think of a few other things I could do with my talents instead, and I can take care of myself."

If I were to cast Grease on the portion of wall he's climbing, would that a Reflex save as per the spell, or just modify the climb DC as per the skill?

Rhiannon closed her eyes, trying to gather herself and think. She'd definitely underestimated whatever was happening, and the fact the mood magic was slowly shifting the atmosphere didn't help her focus at all.

"Shut up and let me think!" she snapped, looking down toward the alley. "Whatever's happening is coming from that alley. We don't have very long until it's empty, so we need a plan and we need one now."

Local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
Arcana: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

It amuses me to no end that the party member carrying the most weapons is the bard.

"No Melifan, obviously Amira wants the Masquerade Slasher to continue operations in her city. I'm sure gruesome murders make her druid senses tingle in all the right ways."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Amira. "That's why you're here, right? The will of the city calling you to aid us in finding him?"

Rhiannon fell silent once the joking started to pick up, and she kept mostly to her drink until they parted. She'd indulged a bit too much in her drink compared to usual, and it left her more pensive than usual. Some air and time on her feet would have her back to normal, but until then she retreated slightly into herself and let the usual banter continue without her.

When they departed, her spirits returned to her rather swiftly, in fact disconcertingly so as they approached the monument.

"Well, this is disconcerting. I can see why he'd chose to kill here; his already weak prey is even more docile."

She turned when Melifan started shouting, rolling her eyes as she spotted the druid.

"Amira! Wonderful to see you. I take it you've been spying on us again."

"Apparently only poor men and rich women are being attacked. It makes sense, since you know as well as I do how many of them are only dangerous in social circles. So, if we were to lure the killer out, we would need a woman who appears rich and not particularly dangerous, at least from a distance. Unfortunately I've sold all any clothes that would make me appear rich, and my hair would make me look like an out-of-place loon in them anyway. That leaves you, unless we can find enough padding to let Melifan fill a dress out."

Finally she paces herself when the expensive brandy hits her lips. As much as she distances herself from her old life, she can't bring herself to drink the classy liquor with anything but slow appreciation.

Anyone who's been involved in protection jobs or small heists could have crossed paths with Rhiannon. Anything shadier than theft she wouldn't have touched, but if it doesn't involve hurting innocents, she's taking pretty much any job she can to help her family out.

Rhiannon rolls her eyes at him, fingers lifting up off her flagon. She considers prestidigitating his mead to taste of horse dung, but decides against it at the last second, her smirk widening a little as she holds the cup again.

"Please don't shake your sword at the table, we hear enough rattling every time Hegin turns his head." She chuckles as she switches her old flagon for the new, "fresh" drink, and begins to drink it too fast to be criticizing anyone's table manners. "Good morning, Elrawien. We're plotting our trap to capture the Masquerade Slasher, and it's the damndest thing; I was just saying we'd need a woman who looked well off as bait."

Rhiannon gives Garroth a wave when he comes in, and keeps tapping out her tune on the side of the flagon. "You should get stiffed more often, it has you smiling so much that I can see whole decades of age just vanishing from your face." She leans back and smirks, tossing back her drink to get whatever few drops remained. "Mysterious key?" Her eyebrow perks at the sight of it, but she doesn't go much further than that.

Returning to the issue at hand, she straightens herself out and starts letting her mind wander.

Knowledge (Local) to know about the Fifth Wind Monument: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

"All of this supports my theory about the killer not being anyone of particular skill or ability, just a maniac decent with a knife. Look at his targets; poor men who can't afford a good weapon or the knowledge with it, and high society women whose sole offense is cattiness. Neither are groups capable of defending themselves very well, especially when caught by surprise. Laying a trap for the killer would be the easiest way to get everything settled."

"Anyone crazy enough to leave a calling card so deranged is likely a maniac of some breed. Dangerous, certainly, but not necessarily good at dealing with things he hasn't accounted for."

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

She raises her flagon up as well, asking silently for a refill, her manners just vaguely weathered by her first couple drinks.

"The city guard isn't infallible, and they have rather unfortunate restrictions when it comes to breaking the laws they uphold. A merry band of freaks is always how the legends tell it. 'Everyone has their own talents' and all that horse s$~#."

"If I spent the next month singing and shooting things with arrows I wouldn't be able to scrape together enough coin to be allowed to look at 25,000 gold pieces. I'm starting my investigation once the tab is paid for, whether anyone is joining me or not."

Rhiannon sits by the fireplace, taking a break from her song to soak her vocal cords in ale. Not exactly the smartest decision ever made, but it seems to be bardic tradition as far as Magnimar went. Her fingers drum against her glass to the rhythm of the song she'd finished only moments ago.

Then she hears the shout over the din of the tavern, and it amazes her that anyone would be stupid enough to announce such a thing so loudly. Her eyebrow curls, and she's halfway ready to stand up and start tracking the Masquerade Slasher down herself. That could go a long way for all of her interests.

"I'd better get 25,000 good reasons for me to stay here in the next few minutes," she mutters to herself, and downs the rest of her drink.

Rhiannon would have both ties to the upper class and merchants through her family's money and banking business, as well as various attempts at social maneuvering to get their daughters noticed by more well-off families. In recent years, she's been around some of the seedier parts of the city, looking for work including treasure hunting parties, protection, and robbery, so long as the targets aren't hurt. Anything involving hurting innocents or kidnapping would be a no-go for her. Then there's her day job performing, which could lead to some familiarity if she's played regularly at someone's frequent tavern.

Did some last minute shopping to be unreasonably prepared for things, and formatted my sheet a bit better. Also, late to this, but space travel sounds pretty cool.

Awesome. And yeah, sorry about that. Her name's a carryover from the first campaign I tried her in, which was very Fae-inspired and so the Gaelic-esque nonsense made sense. "Rhi" will suffice if that seems a bit too typey to write out repeatedly. I'll understand.

Putting up Rhiannon Mableanbh, recently reskinned human bard off a game whose DM quit.

Hania, Raikdar, Rhiannon, and Lantana have moved; Lantana needs to roll her initiative though. Percivel and Uriel have not made their actions.

Well then.

Oops, forgot my Initiative roll.

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

Same.
Rhiannon starts to sing.
Inspire Courage, +1 to attack and damage rolls. Performance round 1/13.

Rhiannon drew her rapier, figuring the space too cramped to make her bow a good idea, and she sucked in a breath. She hadn't gotten much mileage out of her musical talents, but now that the group was reunited and large enough to be worth it, they could finally be of some use.

I figured note comparison would be done once we were out of the urgent situation.

She leered at Uriel and Percivel "Have you two enemies you'd like to share? Or should we assume this vendetta is a more recent one?" Dropping the act, she sighed, easing up a little. "We'd best move swiftly, see if we can catch that thief, and then compare notes. I think we're in far deeper than we expected."

Rhiannon moved over to Raikdar, chating under her breath, then touched his shoulder.

Cure Light Wounds. 0/3 1st level spells remaining.
1d8 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

Rhiannon nodded to her reunited colleagues. "A moment, certainly. But not too long a moment; we're chasing a thief who has something of the missing cleric's. By any chance, have your own lines of investigation crossed back around to the address 551 S. Garamond Street?"

Rhiannon moves to get a better shot, then fires a blunt arrow at the skeleton.

Attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Oops, my bad.

Rhiannon slips by the skeleton when she sees an opening, keeping her back to the wall so she doesn't run into him, in an attempt to get some clearance for her bow. She puts another ten feet between them and readies her bow, hoping for a better shot than the last battle.

As she's invisible, pretty sure AOOs can't be taken against her? Correct me if I'm wrong on that, though.
Attack Skeleton: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Confirm Crit: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Damage: 2d6 + 4 ⇒ (5, 5) + 4 = 14

"It's Percivel, I recognize the voice. Gods, we've stumbled back onto something, haven't we? They've been asking the same questions, and may well have found our rat, or whomever is meeting him." She drew her bow and started heading toward the noises. [b]"You may continue if you wish, but I'm not letting anyone be left for dead in the Shingles.

Bow drawn as a free action mid-movement. Standard action spent casting Vanish on self.

Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

"We have an address, and if we hurry to it, we might catch them."

Rhiannon gives a quick kick to the shoulder and straightens out her cloak. She opens the door on her way out and strides through with her head up high. "Dreadfully sorry Ovidio, but I have an appointment to get to. Please, keep the room closed off for a few days, and I will be around again to search it properly. If you've a need to open the room, then I will pay you for the days I take to return." She smiles at the guards, then strides briskly toward the given address, not waiting for the others to catch up.

"Thank you, sirs."

As he pleads for escape, Rhiannon shakes her head, then swings her fist at his jaw. "I can't tell if you taking me for an idiot or a liar is worse." She turns to Hania and sighs. "Do we try to race that rat back to his hole?"

Rhiannon puts her hands up, showing the guards she's not holding any weapons. "Good evening, gentlemen. We are investigators, hired by Lieutenant Lukain Silvaski of the 2nd Regiment to look into the disappearances of several women around Korvosa. We were in the middle of our investigation, when we ran into these rats."

"We were here to look through the possessions of one of the women, with the innkeeper along with us, since he was kind enough to grant us access. Except when we got to the room, the window was open and it had been robbed by these enterprising men here. One of them got away, and wewe subdued these two just now and had questions for them, since they were robbing the room of a missing woman not known for possessing much wealth."

"I have no quarrel with the guard, and intended to turn them over to you once we'd gotten our answers about the associate who made off with our clue. I'm sure three justice-driven men such as yourselves can understand. If you wish to verify, the innkeeper will gladly corroborate every detail."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Not too nice a scene to leave around, and I don't quite trust our captive. I'll stick it out.

Rhiannon mutters low under her breath. "There's no chance to hide with these idiots here. We should meet the guard, and explain to them who we are, which Ovidio can corroborate. With any luck we can finish interrogating this slime and then hand them off." She quickly slips her dagger back into her wrist sheath and backs away from him. Her posture and expression change, and she drops the bloodthirsty act to appear as upstanding as possible as the guards arrive.

"You'd do well to answer my questions before the guards come in. They rather like it when prisoners aren't stubborn about saving themselves."

Where is Ovidio, currently?

Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Sense Motive, to see if he's telling the truth: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
"Why would you break into the room of a cleric at an inn if you were looking for a tiefling? Or did you not even try to think about how this madesense? And for that matter, does this tiefling have a name? Or anything that'll help me out or prove you aren't lying through your teeth? Because my dagger is going to taste someone's blood, and you can either set me on the path of this alleged tiefling, or I'll start cutting." She places the blade flat on his shoulder and runs it down his arm a little. "Pretty convenient to suddenly be talking about the only race the average citizen would be less trustworthy of than walking scum dressed up like a human. You'll have to give me something to prove it."