Across the room, Clifford slips his shortsword from its sheath and creeps through the crowd toward the wizard and his minion, who don't seem to have noticed him.
In fact, the wizard turns his attention to the newly arrived guard, chanting three short syllables and hurling another ball of blue-white flame at him. He casts the spell so quickly that neither Jagor nor the guard can respond to it with an attack, and the guard shouts in pain as the flames scorch him . He then draws the sickle from his belt and holds it in a fighting stance.
Hezekiah reels under the force of the blow, and the clamor and the blood spattering all over him is almost too much for him. He keeps muttering to himself: "This isn't about you. It's about the pattern." Realizing that he won't be able to put up much of a fight as his putative defender has already collapsed, he rushes forward, jumping over a table as he goes and trying desperately to make a difference after all.
Everyone but Ghorum (sorry, man!):
In fact, the wizard turns his attention to the newly arrived guard, chanting three short syllables and hurling another ball of blue-white flame at him. He casts the spell so quickly that neither Jagor nor the guard can respond to it with an attack, and the guard shouts in pain as the flames scorch him for 3 hp. He then draws the sickle from his belt and holds it in a fighting stance.
How does that work? I thought even Quickened Spells provoked attacks of opportunity? DM's always right, of course, just curious.
Flurry of blows with flank; nonlethal damage (1d20+2=22, 1d6+2=6, 1d20+2=16, 1d6+2=3)
I'll let the DM decide if this is a confirmation roll or a second attack or completely unnecessary.
Confirmation roll for possible crit (if needed) (1d20+2=7, 1d6+2=7)
Atop the dais, the woman with the eyepatch draws her rapier and tries to run the summoned badger through. The attack is almost completely ineffectual, however, even with the advantage of higher ground – the rapier’s point catches a bit of the dais’ carpeting, but nothing of the badger’s fur. The badger, however, promptly disappears anyway, as the spell that summoned it expires.
Ghorum, blinking away the last of the white spots, readies his mace as he peeks above the craps table he his behind and surveys the room.
The remaining unblinded guard, a look of shock on his face, stares down at the burn scar now puckering the skin of his bare chest – and runs, fleeing through the crowd toward a back room. The wizard nods with a satisfied expression, and turns toward the dais once again. The thug that just attacked the guard jumps back up onto the roulette table and runs after him, leaping from one game to the next until he has caught up with his fleeing opponent , but once again, his attempt to strike the man down with his sap is ineffective, as the weight of the blow falls mostly on one of the leather bracers the man wears.
The other thug, across the room, hesitates for a moment in choosing between the nearby guard – blinking away the last of the spots – and Hezekiah, before deciding to deal with the closer threat first. He pushes his way through the crowd , as all around him patrons who thought they had gone blind forever are starting to be able to see once again. The guard is among these, and sees his attacker coming – though he cannot avoid the blow entirely, he converts what might have been a fearful wallop into a lesser injury . The guard turns his scimitar on the other man, striking with surprising fury, dealing a vicious wound .
In the center of the room, behind the dais, a well-dressed dwarf dressed in rich blue silks picks himself up off the ground and starts pushing his way through the crowd, shouting “Saul! Saul, damn your eyes, where are you? Get out here, you fool, your money’s being stolen!”
Clifford tries to go fast to P16 but without any success
Acrobatics 12 . THe crowd moving away form the fight doesn't help his move so he only arrive at the end of his round
double move to P16
At least , Jagor has Flanking now
The wizard seems intent on reaching the dais, shifting to his left before slashing at Jagor with his sickle. Clearly the man is no warrior, however, as his attack is weak and easily avoided.
Hezekiah is weaving his way through the chaos, reflecting instinctively on the vagaries of fortune and feeling strangely alive in the face of danger. He hopes that the guard is able to handle the thug and concentrates his paltry remaining magic on the woman with the eye-patch, hoping to buy some time before reinforcements arrive.
The wizard seems intent on reaching the dais, shifting to his left before slashing at Jagor with his sickle. Clearly the man is no warrior, however, as his attack is weak and easily avoided.
Jagor recognizes Clifford's effort to provide him an advantage and growls as the mage negates it.
Deciding that he needs to focus on a single good attack rather than flailing, Jagor maneuvers and strikes:
Jagor lands a punishing blow on the wizard, rocking him backward and forcing him to shake his head to clear it before he can focus again on his opponent. He seems distinctly shaky, and his drive toward the dais seems to have come to a halt.
Hezekiah casts one of his cantrips at the woman with the eyepatch, and though she blinks for a moment in confusion, she resists the spell. "Angvar!" she shouts again, pale with fear, before seeming to come to a decision. She leaps off of the dais, and though she cannot seem to find a way over or through the crowd, she nevertheless makes enough progress to reach the doors that Clifford just slammed shut .
Hezekiah casts one of his cantrips at the woman with the eyepatch, and though she blinks for a moment in confusion, she resists the spell. "Angvar!" she shouts again, pale with fear, before seeming to come to a decision. She leaps off of the dais, and though she cannot seem to find a way over or through the crowd, she nevertheless makes enough progress to reach the doors that Clifford just slammed shut .
Ghorum watches as the woman shouts, then begins pushing her way to the main doors. Sensing an opportunity, Ghorum pushes his own way through the crowd, using his wide yet compact stature to plow ahead to cut her off.
Ghorum heads toward the door, hoping to block the woman’s escape, or seize an opportunity of some kind as she prepares to flee.
The fleeing guard puts his hands over his head and keeps running, sprinting past Hezekiah – or doing the best he can manage through the still-milling crowd, anyway . The thug clips him on the ear as he runs away.
The crowd seems to be coming aware of their situation, and a massive flow of traffic toward the doors begins, as people slam and push their ways to the exits and away from the fight, screaming and shouting for the gendarmes.
The well-dressed dwarf moves through the crowd, still shouting for Saul, but fishing out a small bottle as he goes. He approaches the spot where Makoa is getting stepped on by the fleeing patrons, and places himself in front of the fallen half-orc to shield him from the stampede .
The thug nearest them, bleeding heavily from his wounds, turns tail and runs, joining the crowds pressing toward the doors . The guard he was fighting runs after him, unable to get in an attack but seemingly unwilling to let the other man escape. Over by the dais, the other thug pushes his way through the crowd, at first seeming to be concerned with catching the guard, but turning instead to deal with Hezekiah, who has just appeared in his path. His sap lashes out, and Hezekiah has no chance to avoid it. The young diviner crumples to the ground .
Clifford move to O15
Missed
Seeing his partner headed for the door, and reeling badly from Jagor's blows himself, the wizard gives up and makes a run for it , but he leaves himself open to Clifford as he goes.
AC 11, damage1
Jagor's turn ?
Two courses of action occur to me. Since both require movement, here's my check to move my speed, if necessary. Acrobatics check (if necessary) (1d20+7=25)
If Clifford drops the wizard with his attack of opportunity:
If the wizard is able to move :
Clifford misses with his shot, and though Jagor runs after the wizard and takes another swing, the man's mystic shield protects him once again.
The woman with the eyepatch wrenches the door open and dives through it, all but leaping out the door. On the other side of the dwarf priest, the wizard calls out, "Thuvalia! Wait!"
"Damn!!", Ghorum says as the woman tumbles past him. He follows her out the open door to pursue, putting away his mace and drawing a crossbow over his shoulder as he does...
Ghorum tosses his mace aside and readies his crossbow before stepping out the door after the fleeing woman. Though he passes one of the thugs still trying to push his own way out the door, the man seems more intent on his escape than taking the chance to strike Ghorum.
The fleeing guard pushes his way through the crowd to a door against the back wall . The fleeing thug runs out the now-open door, past Ghorum and down the stairs. His compatriot, seeing his allies fleeing, swears, "Rough it!" and turns tail to run as well. He too rushes out the door and past Ghorum, jumping off the porch and making his way across the grounds toward the road. All around the dwarven cleric, patrons are streaming past and into the street, and he can see the uniforms of the gendarmes making their way up the road toward the casino, albeit not at any great speed.
The final conscious guard runs over to stand in front of the doors , blocking the wizard's escape once again.
The well-dressed dwarf takes advantage of a momentary eddy in the swirl of people to bend over Makoa, forcing the bottle he had withdrawn into the half-orc's mouth. Suddenly, the barbarian sputters and half spits up the potion, but he is awake again , and looks up in surprise at the figure standing over him. "Best get up, lad," the dwarf tell him, not unkindly. "You're worth twice the wastrels Saul's been spending his money on, and if you're willing, there's work to be done yet."
Clifford double move to Q21
Ghorum calmly loads his crossbow, raises it, and shoots at the woman with the patch's back. The shot goes wide.
"Hrrah!" Makoa yells in surprise. "Thank you" he says to the dwarf as he stands, using his Earth Breaker to help him up. Seeing Jagor fighting the man, Makoa tries to reach his friend to help him. He moves toward the man, with weapon in hand.
Faced with the intimidating set of adventurers between him and the door, the wizard - Angvar, presumably - throws down his sickle and raises his hands. Outside, the two thugs and the woman with the eyepatch make good their escape, though Ghorum takes a shot at the woman's back as she flees.
As you surround the wizard and take him into your custody, the flow of patrons out the door slows and stops. Appearing to realize the danger is over, a new outburst begins:
"What're you tryin' to pull here?"
"I want my money back, you lousy thief!"
"You take my money and then let this happen? I don't think so!"
As Hezekiah and the other unconscious guards begin to wake up, the short figure of Saul Vancaskerin appears from a room in the far southwest corner. The dwarf in the fine silks pushes through the crowd to speak to him, and you see him point to each of you in turn. Saul listens, looks over at you all, then nods and makes his way over to the dais, slipping once in the grease that still covers the dais. He raises his hand for quiet, and with a little help from the dwarf's booming "SHUT UP!" he gets it.
"Gentles!" he begins, "What happened here was not my fault, but I take full responsibility for what happens on my property! Those of you with chips remaining may cash them out now - and not only will I not enforce the 50% clause in the tournament rules, but as an apology from me to you, I'll kick in an extra 10% on top of what you've won. You can't ask for a better deal than that! So take your part of the Devil's gold, and come back again soon!"
The patrons exchange dark glances, but no one leaves, and soon lines are forming by the cashier's cages.
Saul makes his way over to your group as you stand around the wizard, who glares angrily at all of you. Behind him, the doors of the casino are pushed open from the outside, and a squad of gendarmes enters the casino.
"Vancaskerin," says their leader, a broad-shouldered man with several scars on his face. "There a problem here?"
Saul turns to look at the man, then casually cracks the wizard across the temple with his key-hand stump, knocking the other man unconscious. Angvar crumples to the floor, and Saul smiles brightly. "Not at all, captain. You can be on your way."
The gendarmes look at one another, then the leader shrugs, and they troop out again. Saul turns back to you. "I thank you, my friends, for what you did here tonight. Larur," he gestures with the stump to the other dwarf, "told me what happened. If you have a moment, I'd like to express my appreciation more directly and," and he pauses for a moment, a sparkle in his eye quite out of place for a man who was nearly robbed and is losing money on every patron cashing out her chips, "and, I think I'd like to make you an offer."
Hezekiah slowly rises, clutching his head to contain the splitting headache. There is a wrongness in the air , but still he feels drawn to the man and his promises like a moth to an open lantern. The ominous feeling is overwhelmed by the urge to understand what's going on here. "Curiosity killed the cat", he mutters to noone in particular as he staggers to his feet, eager to hear more.
"Witch got away, damn-it-all", says Ghorum as he swaggers up to Saul after slinging his crossbow and picking up his dropped mace. He is still blinking against the few spots before his eyes.
"At least I have some of my winnings in pocket, Cailean be praised", he says, smiling. "The name's Ghorum", he says looking around, nodding at each member of the group.
Jagor finally reaches the wizard just after the mage has dropped his weapon. Jagor steps around behind him and laces him into a standing pin and waits for someone to tell him what to do with the man.
Having completed the task he set before him when the fight started , he finally looks around to see how Makoa and other acquaintances made out.
When Saul knocks out the wizard, Jagor grins and shifts his grip to a fireman's carry. He nods so hard at the idea of a proposal from Saul that his head looks like it might fall off -- that was the whole reason he came to the tournament, after all.
After Ghorum gives his name, the half-orc points at himself and says, "Jagor!" He points at Makoa, "Old friend Makoa!" He points at the rest of the assembled with a big toothy grin, "New friends!"
"Um, where you want sleepy wizard?"
Yes, Jagor , I'm more than all right :) I'm Clifford Strauss . Honored to make your acquaintances all.
Looking down at the thug that no longer has a face, "Sorry," he looks to Saul, "me ruined carpet."
Makoa nods in agreement to Jagors statement of "old friend", and proceeds to cash in his chips. After doing so, he'll aproach Saul, putting away his weapon and picking up his javelin that he threw, curious to this offer. "Make offer," Makoa simply states.
Hezekiah slowly rises, clutching his head to contain the splitting headache.
Saul examines Hezekiah with some concern. “If you can hold on for just a few minutes, my friend, I think I have something to help you out upstairs,” he says. Then, turning to Ghorum, “That is, unless the good priest here might be able to help you sooner?”
"Witch got away, damn-it-all", says Ghorum as he swaggers up to Saul after slinging his crossbow and picking up his dropped mace. He is still blinking against the few spots before his eyes.
“Don’t weary yourself over her,” says Saul, looking at the wizard hanging over Jagor’s shoulder. “If we want to find her, I suspect we have a means of tracking her down.”
After Ghorum gives his name, the half-orc points at himself and says, "Jagor!" He points at Makoa, "Old friend Makoa!" He points at the rest of the assembled with a big toothy grin, "New friends!"
With a bow and a smile, Saul replies, “A pleasure, master Jagor. I am Saul Vancaskerin, owner of the Gold Goblin, and this is my floor manager, Larur Feldin,” he adds, pointing to the well-dressed dwarf, who bows as well.
"Um, where you want sleepy wizard?"
“I think we’ll take him upstairs – if we have any questions we want answered, we can get them there.” Saul pauses, then smiles again, this time with an edge. “And if he has anything on him, feel free to help yourselves.”
Yes, Jagor , I'm more than all right :) I'm Clifford Strauss . Honored to make your acquaintances all.
In addition to the man’s sickle, Clifford finds a vellum scroll with what looks like arcane writing on it, a metal wand with a zigzagging shape like a lightning bolt, a set of well-made bronze bracelets engraved with runes in what looks like Elven, but which make no sense even to Clifford’s eyes, a leatherbound book with more arcane formulae in it, and nearly three dozen gold eyes (33, to be precise).
As Makoa and Clifford start to head off toward the cashiers, Saul raises his hand. “Now, don’t be hasty, my friends. Those folks,” and he waves toward the lines that trail away from the cashier cages, “only raised a bit of a fuss when the trouble was all over. You five, however, did a sight more than that, and with no cause. I intend to see you rewarded appropriately.” Turning to Larur, he says, “Collect the chips these fine gentlemen have won, and cash them out – at 150% of their value. Return their entry fees as well, if you would.” If Larur is surprised by this generosity, he doesn’t show it, and (assuming you agree), he collects your chips and badges. Before he can head off, however, Saul picks up the wizard’s chips and adds them to the pile as well. “Divide that up among them too.” Larur nods and heads off.
Looking down at the thug that no longer has a face, "Sorry," he looks to Saul, "me ruined carpet."
Saul grins. “No worse than an average Wealday night, at least the way this place used to run. Don’t worry about it.”
Seeing you are all seemingly willing to listen to his pitch, Saul leads you through a door in the northwest wall and into the Gold Goblin’s massive kitchen. Another nearby door leads into a small chamber with a spiraling staircase, leading up; at the top, he leads you down a short passage and into a moderate-sized lounge area, featuring two worn but comfortable looking suede couches and a low table, all gathered in front of a roaring fire. Gesturing for you to have a seat, he disappears through another door for a few moments before returning with a slightly dusty wine bottle. He retrieves glasses from a nearby cabinet and begins to pour.
“Now then,” he says, “Let’s get down to business.”
Vellum scroll with what looks like arcane writing on it : Appraise 17
Metal wand with a zigzagging shape like a lightning bolt : Appraise 15
A set of well-made bronze bracelets engraved with runes : Appraise 11
A leatherbound book with more arcane formulae in it : Appraise 16
Rolls
Drats , forgot the sickle :
sickle appraise 19
With a shy smile Hezekiah steps forward. "Gentlemen, my name is Hezekiah (I think I've met some of you before) and I am somewhat trained in the arcane arts - oh, and Gilbert here takes a keen interest in anything shiny - so if I may I would like to try to identify our gains."
Collecting the items and laying them out before him, he speaks a mystic word and lets his hands run over the items, attentive to their auras and the arcane markings.
He's a little hesitant to give over his chips to Larur, but seeing that everyone else proceeds to do so, he follows suit. To do so, he lays the wizard down and digs through his sack (yes, he never set it down) and carefully stacks them up before handing them over to the dwarf. With that, he slings the wizard back over his shoulder, hustles over to the blackjack tables where he forgot his quarterstaff in all the excitement, and follows the rest of the party upstairs.
Jagor lays the unconscious wizard facedown on the floor when the group reaches the sitting room (?). He will stand, positioning himself and the prone wizard so that the wizard is between himself and the fire so that he can see when the man wakes up. Presumably, this will allow others in the party to watch the captive, as well.
If the man wakes up and starts to move, Jagor will lightly kick him in the ribs to get his attention and with a very toothy grin shake his head "no" and put a finger to his lips.
With a shy smile Hezekiah steps forward. "Gentlemen, my name is Hezekiah (I think I've met some of you before) and I am somewhat trained in the arcane arts - oh, and Gilbert here takes a keen interest in anything shiny - so if I may I would like to try to identify our gains."
Collecting the items and laying them out before him, he speaks a mystic word and lets his hands run over the items, attentive to their auras and the arcane markings.
Jagor will watch this display of arcane power with wide eyes, taking half a step back when the word of power is spoken, then moving in closer to see what it is the wizard might see on the items.
Clifford's examination reveals that the sickle is mundane and of ordinary quality (worth maybe 3 gp if you sell it to a dealer), and the bracers are extremely well-made, and might fetch as much as 50 gp if sold. The leatherbound book is probably a spellbook and the scroll some sort of spell, but the value of such things is beyond his sphere of awareness. The wand, to his senses, looks like a largely useless piece of metal, though he probably suspects there is more to it than that.
Hezekiah's examination reveals three magical auras, around the bracers, the wand, and the scroll. The wand, he quickly realizes, is a wand of shocking grasp, CL 1st, with the command word "Zebekiya" - it has 9 charges left. Hezekiah would guess it to be worth about 135 gp, or half that if sold. The scroll is more difficult, but after several moments he determines it is a scroll of shrink item, CL 5th, though he will have to spend more time (or cast read magic) to be able to use it if he wishes to do so. It's worth 375 gp, or again, half that if sold. The bracers are beyond him, however - he can tell that they have a moderate-strength magical aura , but not their purpose.
"Find something worthwhile?" asks Saul as he finishes pouring. "Good, good. Take whatever you'd like." He heaves a sigh as he stares at the wizard, then shakes his head. "Best to take care of this mess first, I reckon." He walks over to where the wizard leans against the wall, then slaps him lightly a few times to wake him up.
After a few moments, the wizard's eyes flutter open, then slowly slide into focus on Saul's face. When they finally do, he gives a violent start, looking around wildly, only to see the rest of you standing or sitting nearby. A variety of emotions flicker across his face for an instant, before he suddenly breathes out slowly and leans his head back against the wall, moaning slightly.
"Awake now?" asks Saul. "Good, good. I need to ask you a few questions, and if you answer me quickly and honestly, I'll make sure you leave here alive. Do we have a deal?" The wizard nods weakly, though the movement seems to pain him further. "Excellent. Now, to begin: what's your name?"
"Angvar Thistlecrit," the wizard replies. His voice is deep and carries a cultured accent that even his pained whisper cannot hide.
Saul nods. "Very well, master Thistlecrit." He pauses, then all but shouts, "Why did you try to rob me?"
Thistlecrit groans at the noise, wincing as Saul leans over him. After a moment, however, he manages, "My associates and I were contracted to steal your stake in the tournament."
"Who hired you?" asks Saul.
Thistlecrit shakes his head, albeit slowly. "I do not know," he replies. "As is traditional, arrangements were made through a series of intermediaries. We received an initial payment and the resources to carry out the plan we were given; we were supposed to meet a contact near the docks later tonight." He smiles slightly, though it is faint. "I would conjecture that the disruption these... unexpected allies... caused has reached our mysterious employer by this time."
Saul nods thoughtfully. Turning to you, he asks, "Do you have anything you'd like to add in here?"
I would indeed be interested in asking you the following :
" Was the use of saps specified to your associates?
Your relationship with the woman seemed to me to be more than professional . What would she be prepared to do to buy your freedom ?
After all , you have just cost Mr Vancaskerin here a great deal of money and as a businessman , it would be normal for him to try to recap some of his losses. Would you be available for help later on , this could cause us at term to give you back your spellbook ...
<snip>
Saul nods thoughtfully. Turning to you, he asks, "Do you have anything you'd like to add in here?"
"A meeting at the docks tonight, eh? Where, exactly, and what time?"
Angvar seems willing to talk without difficulty. In terms of whether you can believe him:
Was the use of saps specified to your associates?
"Not as such, no. However, the remuneration offered was insufficient to justify homicide. Such a step greatly complicates the legal circumstances, and makes... civilized discussions... such as this much more problematic in the event that the proceedings are not resolved in our favor."
Your relationship with the woman seemed to me to be more than professional . What would she be prepared to do to buy your freedom ?
Angvar pauses for some time before responding. "I... do not know. I would not have believed that she would have taken flight without me. I cannot say what she might be willing to sacrifice for my return."
After all , you have just cost Mr Vancaskerin here a great deal of money and as a businessman , it would be normal for him to try to recap some of his losses. Would you be available for help later on , this could cause us at term to give you back your spellbook ...
Frowning, the wizard asks, "'Help?' To what sort of help do you refer?"
"A meeting at the docks tonight, eh? Where, exactly, and what time?"
"There is an alley, or so I have been informed, behind Bram's Perfumes in the area to which your city has given the mellifluous sobriquet of the 'Rotgut District,' two blocks east of the wharves. My colleagues and I were to meet our contact there at three hours past midnight tonight."
:
It seems to me the point of hiring you was not so much for stealing the money but rather to put discredit on the Golden Goblin .
If Mister Saul ever discover whose rival of him is behind this , I think he would see it as a poetic justice to send you make a little trouble in their Gaming Hall.
Otherwise , it's mostly useless to go near Bram's perfumes . This gentleman's master had most certainly observers here who will know better to keep their appointment. The only one who might remotely be there is the man's paramour and , well , agressing a woman near a brothel of Calistria seems to be a wrong idee careerwise
Makoa, looking quite agitated at all the big and strange words being thrown around, "So, what we do now? I break legs good! Or mash face.." he says looking at the spot where his earth breaker was implanted in the skull of the thug. "Koth like mashing.." as he glances the head of his earth breaker. "I not know what to do now," Makoa whispers to Jagor.
Makoa, looking quite agitated at all the big and strange words being thrown around, "So, what we do now? I break legs good! Or mash face.." he says looking at the spot where his earth breaker was implanted in the skull of the thug. "Koth like mashing.." as he glances the head of his earth breaker. "I not know what to do now," Makoa whispers to Jagor.
Jagor looks from one speaker to another, brow furrowed. When Makoa leans over to whisper to him, he shrugs his broad shoulders and whispers, "Jagor not know too. But Saul have money, maybe give job. Some like fancy talk first, so Jagor wait." He brightens up and nods his head at Clifford, "Clifford will know what to do. Jagor wait for Clifford."