You find yourself walking through the darkening streets into the far reaches of the district of Naos, this particular area set up against Magnimar's great walls. Even in this queit area the statues and monuments that give the city its title are notable, scattered throughout the modest buildings.
Not long previously you received a letter, addressed to you personally.
It had read;
This may find you late in the day, which is sadly, for Magnimar too is falling under a darkness more permanent and terrifying than even the deepest night.
If you seek to aid the city travel immediately to my abode, 8 Merab Street in Naos.
Arrive before dark,
Bear arms.
Yours,
Gesrio Temern
You hear the footsteps of others as you grow close to Merab Street, seeking a battered but large house, know to you as the former Pathfinder's abode.
The day had been long, waiting in a cramped spaced under the roof of the derelict warehouse for nothing as the expected thugs did not show up to reclaim their loot. Shaan made his way back to the Grey Hound as the Sun was already angling down. As usual, the Inn was crowded with patrons, but Shaan's favoured corner was still empty and he sat down wearily.
"Lia, today's special and some brown ale, please", he asked one of the maids.
Five minutes later, the stew and ale was in front of him together with a letter.
"A young messenger from up-town came here about one hour ago, saying you had to get this as soon as possible"said Lia.
As Shaan read the letter, he was trying to remember if he had already heard of that guy.
Knowledge Local to remember what he knows about Gesrio Temern (1d20+3=13)
Anyway, the message was clear and the term "bear arms" should mean this was not an ambush.
His ale and his quiet evening forgotten, Shaan took just the time to finish the meal, went to his room to refill his quiver and to change to fresh clothes before ascending to Naos.
"Going there is one thing but being careless is another. I'm not going to enter there alone until I know more about it." As the streets darkened, Shaan steps became lighter and he looked for a place convenient to observe the coming and going of his destination.
Shaan
Andreas takes a seat in a nearby chair, tapping the re-folded summons thoughtfully against his thigh, his hammer and chisel held loosely in his other hand. After a short time he stands bolt upright, and makes his way to his worktable. The sculptor offers his most recent model a smile of apology as he tosses her a white robe, then begins stowing his tools.
"I'm afraid we'll have to finish another time, my dear. Old friends, pressing matters, and all that. I insist you use the guest room until I return, as long as you don't mind sharing the place with the girls. Don't worry, as long as you behave yourself they shouldn't bite." He pauses in his work long enough to tousle the fur between one of his ever-present hounds' ears.
Not waiting for a response the paladin turns from his work table, absently picks up a nearby candle holder, and begins making his way through the house. With a look of confusion on her face, the young woman follows. "You'll find sufficient food stores in the pantry for several days. If I'm gone longer you can get meats from a butcher in Grand Arch, from a dwarf by the name of Verrin. We've an arrangement, and he saves a special mix of cuts for the girls as well; make sure they eat well. As long as you take either of them with you, he should have no problem with giving you my orders."
Andreas finishes adjusting his armor before belting on his weapons. His ever-present holy symbol glows faintly, catching and reflecting the candlelight. He kneels and calls his dogs over, speaking to each in turn. "Bella, stay home and guard the place while I'm away. Alba, defend the nice young lady. I'll try not to be gone long; for all I know Gesrio may just want to commission a new piece for his home."
The paladin stands once again and makes his way to the front door. "I'll try to check back often, should I be kept away. Until then, my dear." Offering his house guest a brief bow and tossing her a spare key, the paladin turns and makes his way into the night. Having taken his candle holder with him, he leaves the stunned young woman standing in the dark greeting room, mouth agape, as the two white hounds watch her attentively from the positions they've taken at the closed door.
As the last note humms out over the crowd, Reinala sets down her flute and cautiously looks around. Those gathered in the tavern at this early hour applaud loudly, and several come forward to offer thanks and tips.
After they return to their tables, Reinala scoops up the small bag she had set out at her feet and, returning her flute to its case, sits at side table to sort her earnings. There are a scattering of coppers and silvers, but it is the folded piece of paper that catches her eye. She opens it, reads the invitation carefully, then refolds and returns it to the sack. "Curious," she thinks, "That's an odd request. Best prepare for it, I suppose."
Half an hour later, she emerges from her lodgings in the rear of the tavern and slips out the side door, heading toward the designated meeting site. As the light of day dims, Reinala softly whistles a tune from Pharasma's Liturgy for the Dawn, and a quiet light shines forth from her shield. Not terribly familiar with this part of town, she also keeps her eyes and ears open and ready for anything that might directly threaten her.
Darinar goes over the letter he found on the floor of his room for the third time. The name is one he thought he'd never hear again, but he is glad that he has. He unlocks the trunk in his small room and girds himself, not necessarily for battle, but he knows that he should be cautious. Looking over the small bed with his sword belt and scabbard lying there freshly polished he sighs a bit. While strapping on the sword belt he peers out of the tiny eave window and looks out onto the street. The bustle is in full play he sees, wishing he could just go to the Gourd and Tankard for the day. Instead he opens the door and walks down the narrow steps to the parlor. "Mistress Miggins, I must be off for business. I fear I won't be here for dinner." The old lady who owned the boarding house looked up and smiled. It would be pleasant if she had any teeth, Darinar thought and immediately felt guilty. "Good eave, sir. Do you have your key?" "I do indeed. Thank you and a good eave to you also." He walked out into the crowd and made his way to the address on the letter, walking slowly and deliberately keeping his eye out for danger.
As the footsteps come closer, Shaan tenses. But he soon relaxes as the noise level and the light carried by the newcomers surely mean they are no threat.
"If more than one person have been summoned, it should be safe."
As long as he is undetected, Shaan stays hidden until the newcomers come closer and either enter the house or start talking.
@Darinar: Yes, Fine.
Scrubbing his hands clean of blood from the old soldier’s surgery Nevil reads the letter held by an assistant.
“Well Urlic it looks as though my day never ends. Take the patient back to his bed and then inform the masters that I needs to investigate a potential threat. I will send word to them when I have assessed the nature of the threat.”
Stopping only to don fresh clothes and grab his traveling pack and greatsword, Nevil heads out to the lower city, the cowl of his cloak hiding his features. Nevil walks briskly to the House on Merab St. enjoying cool evening air. Looking over the house and environs He steps to the door pulls the bell, waits for an answer and then enters.
Nevil:
You enter into a small alcove, with cloak and coat racks on the wall and little else.
Just beyond lies a large open sitting and dinning room, a ring of chairs surrounds a nice table to your right, while to your left are armchairs with cushions in a semicircle around the fireplace. There is little ornamentation on the walls except for a greatly detailed map of a jungle region over the fire and a stuffed manticore head and pair of crossed Kellid spears on the opposite wall.
Gesrio smiles as he welcomes you in, an aging man, he has all of his hair, though it is a pale grey and thinning, he has sharp blue eyes and little scars on his hands. He wears comfortable evening attire, appropriate of a Taldan gentleman, though it has seen better days.
'Come in, come in! Sit! Would you like some refreshments while we wait for the others to arrive?'
"Just some water if you please" Nevil says as he pulls out a small brush from a pocket in his tunic sleeve and brushes off the seat before he sits. “Spirits can damage the liver and kidneys over the long term and also…” Nevil trails off, realizing that he is offering too much information and goes quite.
Reinala approaches quietly and, seeing the door open for Nevil, hops up the stairs to enter. She takes in the room with a brief scan before smiling sweetly as she greets Gesrio. "Mr. Temern? I am Reinala, pleased to meet you. I must say I feel a trifle odd marching through the streets so armed, but I trust you have sufficient reason. Have you a glass of wine?" Keeping her face even, Reinala pays close attention to Gesrio's mannerisms and voice.
She approaches the table where Nevil is sitting and hangs her small shield on the back of a chair. Politely avoiding too close a look under his cowl, she greets him, "Good eve to you. Another to help Mr. Temern?"
As the hooded man and the shield bearing woman enter the house, Shaan emerges from behind a statue facing the house and hops on the cobbles. Quietly, he crosses the street and knocks on the door.
As he enters the small alcove, he pulls down his hood and removes his cloak. Under it, he wears a new studded leather armor whose nails have been painted grey over greyish worn clothes and well oiled boots.
"Are you Gersin Temern ?, he asks the old man. I'm Shaan Hawkeyes, but you must already know that as you know where I live. By the way, how many people have you invited tonight ? I mean, besides the two that are already in. And the two men at arms the I've just seen entering the street."
Moving in the dining/living room, he nods to the two visitors. "Good evening" He then selects a chair close to the wall, and sit astride it, the chair's back facing the table. Once seated, he removes his backpack and sets his bow down before turning towards Nevil and Reinala. He is a small but well built young man with piercing green-brown eyes "Shawn Hawkeyes, he says. Have you also been summoned?"
Eljah yawns and stretches as he readily eyes the setting sun. Thumbing the letter from Gesario in his tiny hands, he twists his hips until he feels a small "pop" in his lower back. "Ahh, much better." he says to the evening air. He then removes his shirt, grouses his messy black hair and rereads the letter for at least the tenth time today. Leaning over to grab his backpack, he stands up from the small alcove he calls a "room" and tucks his dagger and javelin into his belt. Pretending not to be excited, he sets out for the old Pathfinder's place.
As he walks along the busy evening streets, he whistles an old Gnomish hymn and nods to a few grumpy folk as they pass by, clearly amused by both his appearance and his off key tune. Arriving at Gesario's, he walks in happily and announces to everyone: "'ello everyone! My name is Eljah Roondar and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance!" Looking around the room, he realizes this must be something serious indeed as everyone appears to be well armed. Acting as though he and Gesario are long lost friends, he walks over to Gesario and in a serious tone says "So, Gesario. What's this all about?"
The thought of missing work tomorrow is fresh on his mind as he waits in anticipation for the response, his palms sweaty with excitement.
"That's what I was wondering as well." Andreas closes the door behind him and enters the room, striding toward Gesrio and handing his candlestick to Shaan as he passes. "Here, hold this."
"It's not like you to ask me here, rather than dropping by my place to chat. And it's a shame that you've chosen tonight, of all nights, to change your habits; you could have exchanged words with a delightful young woman while I completed my work. Perhaps even shared a bit of wine before the night grew too old." The paladin pauses to pat the older man on the shoulder before continuing toward the fireplace. He stands his weapons in a corner before settling himself rather unceremoniously into one of the cushioned armchairs.
"As it is, I'm afraid I left her somewhat disoriented when I left; your letter sounded somewhat urgent. What have you gotten yourself into, you old troublemaker? Uncle Ghethellain's not involved in whatever trouble you're in, is he?"
When the well dressed warrior strides into the room as if he owned the place, Shaan is cut short in his greetings.
Andreas closes the door behind him and enters the room, striding toward Gesrio and handing his candlestick to Shaan as he passes. "Here, hold this."
Shaan's wrapped hand shoots out on its own to grab the candle stick before his mind catches the situation and he freezes looking at the back of Andreas.
He half rises, opens his mouth to reply then stops himself and carefully sits down, muttering under his breath:"Some thugs have better manners."
He then opens his backpack to store the candlestick inside. "Thank you, Sir Knight. That's something Shaila will put to good use in Underbridge, she always complains there is not enough light for her to properly examine her patients, he says before turning his attention back towards the room occupants.
Darinar finally arrives where he was beckoned. While approaching he noticed that others had entered, so he knocked as he opened the door and walked in. He looked around the room, and noted that he knew none of those inside excepting of course his host.
"I see this was not a private summons." He gives a grim look at the group, but finally finds a seat. He expressly does not hang his sword-belt from one of the pegs provided for that use. Not with such strangers near.
After listening to the introductory small talk, he relaxes a bit in his chair. As he sits back he pulls a long pipe from his pouch, loads it with a sweet smoke-weed, and lights it. Then he sits quietly just looking and listening, while slowly puffing at his pipe.
Darinar finally arrives where he was beckoned. While approaching he noticed that others had entered, so he knocked as he opened the door and walked in. He looked around the room, and noted that he knew none of those inside excepting of course his host.
"I see this was not a private summons." He gives a grim look at the group, but finally finds a seat. He expressly does not hang his sword-belt from one of the pegs provided for that use. Not with such strangers near.
After listening to the introductory small talk, he relaxes a bit in his chair. As he sits back he pulls a long pipe from his pouch, loads it with a sweet smoke-weed, and lights it. Then he sits quietly just looking and listening, while slowly puffing at his pipe.
"Are you sure you want to smoke? Smoking promotes tooth decay and impares proper breathing". Nevil states as he moves in his chair to avoid the pipe smoke.
"Are you sure you want to smoke? Smoking promotes tooth decay and impares proper breathing". Nevil states as he moves in his chair to avoid the pipe smoke.Darinar finally arrives where he was beckoned. While approaching he noticed that others had entered, so he knocked as he opened the door and walked in. He looked around the room, and noted that he knew none of those inside excepting of course his host.
"I see this was not a private summons." He gives a grim look at the group, but finally finds a seat. He expressly does not hang his sword-belt from one of the pegs provided for that use. Not with such strangers near.
After listening to the introductory small talk, he relaxes a bit in his chair. As he sits back he pulls a long pipe from his pouch, loads it with a sweet smoke-weed, and lights it. Then he sits quietly just looking and listening, while slowly puffing at his pipe.
Darinar stares for a quick second at Nevil and then slowly smiles. "I'm sorry, friend, I didn't mean to be a bother. I should have asked before lighting." Darinar stubs out the pipe, but returns the unlit pipe to his mouth, chewing slightly on its tip. He stares for a bit more at Nevil and then looks over the table once more.
"Are you sure you want to smoke? Smoking promotes tooth decay and impares proper breathing". Nevil states as he moves in his chair to avoid the pipe smoke.
You seem to know a lot about health matters. Are you a healer of some sorts ?, says Shaan looking at the great-sword Nevil carries.
Reinala smiles politely at Shaan, conceals a look of shock at Eljah's energetic entrance, and does little to hide her distaste at Andreas' arrival but turn away from the Taldan's arrogant entrance.
At Darinar's pipe, she adds, "Personally I enjoy the smell of good pipe smoke. It is so like incense in the side chapels of the temples, and would insist that you light it but for the protests of our cowled companion."
I am a cleric Gorum; I have been instructed in the healing arts since I was an infant at the temple. I have grown up seeing the effects of vices on the bodies of the soldiers and don't wish for others to damage themselves in the same way. The only purpose for the incense my temple uses is to mask the stench of sickness and death.
Gesrio shuffles back into the sitting room, handing people their drinks, nodding, smiling and making pleasantries, ensuring everyone is sat comfortably.
He stands in the center of then, face growing suddenly grave.
'As much as your company warms my heart, I had a purpose in gathering you all here. You all probably know that I'm no longer associated with the Grand Lodge in Absalom, but, once a Pathfinder always a Pathfinder, I chose to retire to Magnimar with a motive.' He pauses then, looking each of you in the eyes.
'When I was active I crossed sword with a Nidalese sect of Zon-Kuthon worshippers, and ever since have made it my mission to oppose that dark cult. My paranoia and obsession is what forced me to resign, but I was far from deluded, my friends, for servants of the Midnight Lord are active in this very city!'
'When I was active I crossed sword with a Nidalese sect of Zon-Kuthon worshippers, and ever since have made it my mission to oppose that dark cult. My paranoia and obsession is what forced me to resign, but I was far from deluded, my friends, for servants of the Midnight Lord are active in this very city!'
Hearing the urgency in his voice, Shaan focuses on the old man face trying to read behind his words.
How did you discover that ? And what do you want us to do about it ?
"Do you have proof of this? None of the various temples inquisitor’s has reported any abnormal cult activity."
Shaan:
The old man paused breifly, but raises his hand to quell the questions.
'Have you heard of a new drug in the city, it renders its takers able to see in the darkness, but at the cost of seeing nightmare visions, losing control, paranoia, an excruciating euphoria? Shadowveil they call it.'
Eljah thinks hard on whether or not he's heard of "Shadowveil", closing one eye and scrunching his face up.
"Nope, never heard of it. Sounds interesting, though. Any idea how it's made? Me myself, I've never made anything like that. I bet it's got something really weird in it though...maybe bat wings or annis fingernails or zombie dust...or...or...pix...". Eljah trails off, realizing he may be rambling a bit. "Anyway," he says, face turning a rosy pink, "Tell us more, please."
Closing his eyes briefly, Shaan reviews the nights he spent looking for informations about the last group of thugs he hunted. He may have heard or seen something...
Despite her many nights performing in the local taverns, the subject of Shadowveil appears to have escaped Reinala's ears. "Well, it sounded rather like fun, until the part about the euphoria being excruciating."
Eljah & Reinala:
You don't recognise the name shadowveil, nor recall any information pertaining to it.
Shaan:
You've heard the name, among the poor and decrepit of Underbridge, once or twice you've even seen an addled user, eyes gone entirely grey, seeing easily in darkness, yet tormented by visions and wracked with pain and pleasure in equal measure.
'It's a deadly narcotic, and I truly beleive that the cult of Zon-Kuthon are behind it, in fact, I think I know where their headquarters are,' at this the old man grins widely with a boyish gleam in his eyes.
'You are free to leave now, if you do not want to become involved in this, but I selected you all for a reason. Each of you is capable and heroic enough to want to put an end to this menace!'
Andreas:
You hear a very queit metal scrape and a muffled thud from above.
'It's a deadly narcotic, and I truly beleive that the cult of Zon-Kuthon are behind it, in fact, I think I know where their headquarters are,' at this the old man grins widely with a boyish gleam in his eyes.
'You are free to leave now, if you do not want to become involved in this, but I selected you all for a reason. Each of you is capable and heroic enough to want to put an end to this menace!'
"Mr. Temern," Reinala states calmly, "I don't mean to sound callous, but marching against the minions of the lord of torture to stop trade in narcotics does not sound like the most profitable venture. Had I a house full of beautiful women, as our Taldan friend seems to, I might not be so mercenary in my tone. If any of these gentlemen wish to go, I will offer my aid, but do not want to do so simply to be known as heroic. In fact, if I do aid in this, I may prefer not to be known for it at all."
"I still doubt a cult could be active in the city without the temple knowing. I will join this endevor just to rid the streets of this drug you mention."
"Mr. Temern," Reinala states calmly, "I don't mean to sound callous, but marching against the minions of the lord of torture to stop trade in narcotics does not sound like the most profitable venture. Had I a house full of beautiful women, as our Taldan friend seems to, I might not be so mercenary in my tone. If any of these gentlemen wish to go, I will offer my aid, but do not want to do so simply to be known as heroic. In fact, if I do aid in this, I may prefer not to be known for it at all."
I have seen what it does to any one desperate enough to try this and I do not wish it to my worst enemy. It's more than just narcotics. And even if it was just a simple drug trade, I would do it. So count me in.
Eljah goes a bit wide eyed at how quickly most of the folks he's just met agree to march out against the threat. "Umm, yeah. What other information can you give us, Gesario? It's not that I'm not interested, because, believe me, I am. It's just that, well. (clears throat) "Hrmm. Do you know how we can find said followers of Zon-Bon-Bon and their nasty drugs? I mean, marching into a hideout seems like alot of fun, but can't we start a little smaller?" says Eljah with sincerity.
'Of course, of course,' He smiles weakly. 'I am, perhaps, a little over eager. They have many smaller operations and points of business that should be scoped out first. Think of this tactically, of course. But be very sure, this is a serious threat to Magnimar, perhaps to all of Varisia. We must not dally overlong before beginning our investigations, this problem is on the cusp of exploding!'
With a sudden loud bang the doorway at the top of the stairs in the corner of the room bursts open, a crossbow bolt zipping out to strike Gesrio in the chest. The old man goes down suddenly with a yell.
Roll Initiative!
Eljah, you are right. But I had no intention of running head on in any hideout without any information. I was just stating I wanted to help. We obviously need more than just names and places.
With a sudden loud bang the doorway at the top of the stairs in the corner of the room bursts open, a crossbow bolt zipping out to strike Gesrio in the chest. The old man goes down suddenly with a yell.
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2267309/
Initiative: 1d20+2=10+2= 12
"It seems you're on to something, at least; crossbow bolts don't get shot at folks for no reason." The paladin moves from the chair to retrieve his glaive.
"It seems you're on to something, at least; crossbow bolts don't get shot at folks for no reason." The paladin moves from the chair to retrieve his glaive.
** spoiler omitted **
Shock overwhelms Darinar's face, but his training kicks in. He stands quickly and draws his trusty sword.
Two dark-cloaked, cowled men rush down the stairs the first tumbles down the last step, past Nevil and strikes at Reinala with a spiked chain. The other strides down the stairs and strikes Nevil again with a spiked chain.
Suddenly two more men kick in the door and move to fill the hall, spiked chains at the ready.
"Are you still with us, Gesrio? Don't go exploring the Boneyard just yet." Taking up his glaive, the paladin moves across from one of the attacking men, bringing the weapon down on the intruder. He keeps the man on the stairs in his field of vision as well, ready to lash out should either attacker open themselves to a strike.
Reinala shrieks as the chain rakes across her, but quickly responds, pulling a concealed dagger from her left bracer and strikes at the nearest enemy.
Unable to get to Gesrio without exposing his back to the enemy Nevil turns to attack. Nevil’s lifetime of training take over his actions as he grabs greatblade and brings it down upon the head of “1”.
Reinala's strike hits the man's armor, but Nevil and Andreas both hit the man hard, dropping him to the floor.
Startled by the entrance of the two thugs by the main door, Shaan loses some time retrieving his bow. He then stands up and adjusts the cloaked shape on the stairs, aiming for the throat.
Whose turn is it?