Shackled City: Life's Bazaar - Down These Streets

[The Tygre]

Private conversations, frivolities, and ventures, all right here.

Your first prompt, me lovelies; what are you doing on the streets of Cauldron at the middle of the night? Why are you there? Where are you coming from? Where were you going?

[Chilingsworth]

Dyn is outside after a nasty argument with his godfather, wondering why he's become so nasty in the last few months, not liking the rain, wishing he had paid attention when his godmother tried teaching him the endure elements spell, and promising himself he will manage to learn it soon.

*hears call for help*

What the?

*runs to investigate*

Dyn's thoughts:

maybe I can scare the assailant off... no, probably not, but I should be able to hypnotize him, or knock him our with a color spray.

[Hbgplayer]

Since his father's death, Boddynock has been unable to find much of any kind of employment, and so has run through all but a few copper pieces of the 20 gold pieces that he had when his father died. During the first month after his dad died the bank that had commissioned him payed for a room at an upscale hotel in the city, but since then, he has lived from inn to inn, and for the past week, on the streets.
He had been going from business to business, looking for employment, and aside from a couple of places that paid him to sweep up for the day, no body wanted some strange, young gnome that had few skills and even less experience. A month ago, a member of a small, ten member thieves guild allowed him to join, in the hopes of finding who killed his father, but so far has been passed over for most assignments due to his lack of experience and, most importantly of all, his lack of his own set of tools.
Tonight, he had been passed over once again, and he stormed out of the basement where they meet, angry, disappointed, and most of all, hopeless. I'll never find the S.O.B. that killed dad at this rate, I should just leave; Oh yeah, I can't, I don't have enough money to pay the road tolls."Frack" He thinks to himself, cursing out loud at the end, as he curled up under an awning in yet another mysterious part of this cursed city.

[Chilingsworth]

Inside Dyn's head:

"Urbanus? Urbanus... Have I heard that name before? Does he have a temple in town?"

'Let's see... this... priest(?) seems to be trying to redeem these thugs? Well, if that could work, that would probably be the best outcome of this mess. Still, the Last Laugh probably wont let them go very easily. They'll need someplace safe to go, but if we give them to the guards, they'll likely either be executed or released after the Last Laugh bribes them out of jail...
Where in this city could we take them... I wonder?'

[The Tygre]

Morgan the Exile

You step out of the side-study where the others sit listening to Sister Urikas. You take a moment to breathe in the temple to St. Cuthbert. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_MbDqc3x97k) Up the hall is the sanctuary proper of the chapel. The walls are a beautiful veined, white marble. An altar of rosewood rests at the far side of the sanctuary, with oak seats facing it. Stained glass windows line either side, depicting St. Cuthbert in his tribulations and victories. The central window behind the altar is overlain with the iron cross of St. Cuthbert. You hear muttering coming from the general direction of the antechamber, Parsifal hurriedly rushes in, seemingly unaware of you, and starts rooting around underneath the pews. He picks himself back up with a sigh of relief, holding a worn brown book. He starts to head back to the antechamber when he notices you (with a slight jump) and inquires shyly, "... Yes? Do you need help?"

[Cardea]

Morgan the Exile


"Aye, lad. Lady Jenya has given me right to view the Private Collection of books. Already browsed the public stock. What might that be, lad?" Morgan says, pointing to the book in the man's hands.

[The Tygre]

The young novice looks down, "Oh? This? This is my prayer book. I... forgot it after this evening's service... Please don't tell anyone." Parsifal pleads. He regains his composure and says, "So you need to see our private library? And Sister Urikas has given you permission? Alright then, let me see..." The scrawny half-elf fidgets through his robes until he pulls out a set of keys on a ring. He motions with his hand, "Follow me."

Parsifal guides you through the back halls of the church. The floors here are made from cobblestone, and the air grows a little more chill than back in the study or sanctuary. Parsifal unlocks a heavy-looking wooden door, takes you a few feet down the hall, and then almost immediately unlocks another door.

The chapel library has evidently not been used much. A single, rectangular wooden table sits in the center of the room, with six padded chairs. There are no windows, all the walls being covered with books. Interrupting some of the shelves are cases with glass panels, each one containing specimens of plants, insects, or animal bones from the surrounding mountains and jungles, as well as chunks of rock or pieces of paraphernalia that no doubt have some greater significance to the church.

Parsifal holds the door open for you, asking, "Is there anything else you need?"

[Cardea]

Morgan the Exile

"Aye, lad. It'll stay 'tween you and me. But ye owe me." Morgan says, as the youth leads her to the private collection. She shakes her head, as she begins looking through the books and reading what looks interesting.

So... here is what Morgan is going to do.
Morgan is going to start reading through books, finding out what she can about 'him'. She's going to keep doing this until she is tired, and then go sleep for eight hours, aiming to wake up around 8am. She'll sleep at the Inn.
Knowledge (Religion): [roll0]
Knowledge (Arcane): [roll1]

[The Tygre]

Morgan begins to pull anything that might catch her eye from the shelves. There are a number of interesting books, and her arms are soon weighed down by the stack of tomes. Out of her selections, only a few hold any clue to the nature of her 'companion'. The Eight Marks of Judgement is the biography of a famous priest within the Church of St. Cuthbert, a Father Zethymyth. With a brown velvet cover emblazoned with the symbol of St. Cuthbert and nearly one hundred pages long, the hefty volume appears to have been written by a disciple of the Father. In its writings, The Eight Marks reveals the Father's frequent interactions with the 'Nobles of the Outer Spheres'. These extra-planar beings appear to be of varying nature, though; some good, some bad. Morgan comprehends that 'Noble' is a title often used by extraplanar beings of importance.

Her suspicion is confirmed in the next book. Titled simply Magical Incantations, the smaller volume is beautiful, with a rosewood inlaid cover. Inscripted into the cover is the image of an all-seeing eye within a pentagon, the symbol of the church of Boccob. There is nothing particularly spectacular about the book, other than its use as an arcane compendium. However, many of the incantations are put forward to the binding and communication of planar creatures, from elementals to fey to demons and angels. Each major power is addressed as a 'Duke', a 'Knight', a 'Baron', and so forth and so forth. Morgan's suspicion is confirmed; extra-planar creatures mimic their mortal subjects, or perhaps even vice-versa. However, there is no specific mention of her own planar parasite.

It isn't until a somewhat unconventional source that Morgan finds even a hint of a being like 'The Noble'. Even longer than The Eight Marks and covered in cured drake-hide, the book is a fictitious canticle titled The Shining Sword of Heironeous details the trials and travails of a noble paladin. Before his entry into Hell around the middle of the third act, the paladin comes into contact with a variety of entities and celebrities, offering him gifts and blessings for his crusade. Among these is one simply titled 'The Noble':


THE NOBLE: Now hark, young paladin. Accept my gift, and renounce your code, if only for the hour, and I can grant you sights unseen.
THE PALADIN: Nay, Noble. For err you have dogged me. Many's the man I have cast down on the field of battle, and many's the time you arose with their dying breath, offering the same. I deny you now as then.
THE NOBLE: Then you are a fool. Fare thee well, paladin. For you will not find my like in that stagnant place.

In his acknowledgements, the author of The Sword of Heironeus says that he drew inspiration for some of his characters from a certain memoir.

Morgan is in luck; apparently, whoever gathered The Sword of Heironeus for the library grabbed its sources as well, including the memoir. It is short, not even a full twenty five pages long, but it is sufficient. Blood in My Hair by Essica of the Three-Wolves Clan. A woman barbarian, not too different from Morgan herself, the memoir is a short reflection by Essica on her life. Essica mentions that in her travels, she met many different kinds of warriors. One of them sounded remarkably like Morgan, a tribal barbarian that wielded magic. When Essica asked how he attained this power, the warrior said that he gained it through a pact with 'The Noble'. He was bound to the entity, but it was worth the exchange for his newfound powers. Later in her life, Essica met the same man, though she did not realize at first. He was deformed and mutated, all but a puppet to The Noble. Essica slew the magos-barbarian, and in his dying gasp The Noble emerged into her mind, offering Essica the man's power. She refused, and so The Noble returned to the corpse, waiting for a new host.

With this knowledge that her case is not unique, and the all but proven fact that The Noble is an extra-planar entity, Morgan turns to the mightiest of her selected volumes. The Theories on Planar Beings by Sister Zelkis is nearly two hundred and fifty pages long. The cover is made from cattle bone, and half-pearls bead the spine. Two feet by two feet, it is a stupendous manuscript, beautifully illustrated and copied not by modern print or magic, but evidently by hand.

http://va312aslifilis.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/illuminated-manuscript-21.jpg

Morgan pours over the information from Sister Zelkis. She learns of the residents of the Outer Spheres, of their nature tied to human beliefs, of how they form a beautiful pattern of interaction with lesser mortals. Unable to read the whole book, Morgan focuses on pacts and dealings with extraplanar creatures. It is here she learns of the nature of magic that can be derived from these bargains. Devils can offer wealth and power, the archons of Celestia may grant aid in return for service, and even the Inevitables and Modrons of Mechanus may make contracts with willing and able mortals. However, what is evident is that these are beings of Order, the forces of Law. As such, their contracts are unabashedly clear, detailing the exact minutiae of those communications. The Noble, however, was not. It was brief, and seemed to be working on some more internal logic that its host could not understand. For what creature passes from the dead to the living, like a parasite? Not any being of order; such actions are more to the liking of the tempestuous fey or the hordes of chaos.

Morgan is tired for the night. She closes the books and puts them back where she found them, resolving to continue her research at a later time. For now, it would be wise to get some sleep, and she must decide between taking refuge at the Chapel or walking through the rain to the Drunken Morkoth.

[The Tygre]

Morgan, Kelkin, and Boddynock all head West from City Hall. Past the imposing guard barracks, the trio begin their descent down the twisting and winding road to Crater Lake. The air grows wilder, more full of energy, but also fouler; the smell of tanners and livestock strike from one direction, while the stench of fish comes from the lake. The atmosphere even now is loud, workers shouting at each other from across the street, women between buildings, and children between alleys.

In the Southwest corner of the city, firmly between Lava avenue and Ash avenue, the trio find the Slippery Eel Tavern (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cm7SgPxEKWA&feature=related). The building is made entirely from wood, as many of the newer buildings in Cauldron. But the yellow-brown timber looks as if it has endured a thousand tavern brawls, a veritable tornado of smoke, and a deluge of liquor. Two stories tall with a dark-brown tile roof and windows that haven't cleaned in a dog's age, the Slippery Eel looks much simpler than the Drunken Morkoth. Above the wooden door, a sign with the inn's name hangs, a freshwater eel wriggling between its letters and borders.

Inside, the Slippery Eel is much like its predecessor. A set of stairs lead to the balcony and rooms for rest. The ground floor is layered with worn wooden tables and stray chairs. The bar in front of the kitchen has a surface so smooth as to almost be glass, accompanied by a set of bar stools that look like they were repaired out of stubbornness instead of any kind of practicality.

Behind the bar, a balding man with crow's feet around his eyes but a trusting smile on his face looks at you as you enter. There are already a number of other patrons here as well; two half-elves sitting in the corner, five humans, a table with two gnomes and a dwarf, and a half-orc at the bar.

[Eldan]

"Wonderful."
Even though Kelkin is more snarling than talking, there is a smile on his face that is only half-cynical. He wipes his feet, left, then right, knocks on the doorframe with his left fist and looks up for a second, muttering "Blessings on this house, guest rights are claimed", to himself, barely audible even for his colleagues a mere step away.
Then he enters, his right casually lying on the mace in his belt, the other, as if by accident, pushing his cloak back a bit to show the glinting of old, faded scales.
He walks up to the bar, ignoring the two stools and knocks lightly on the tabletop.
"It's still early", he says, nodding to the bartender. "Three pints of dark, I think?"
There is a questioning glance back over his shoulder at the others.

[The Tygre]

The barkeeper smiles, "Sure thing, friend. Name's Fallo. Fallo Grymkin. You just let me know if you need anything else, okay? And hey, since you're a new face here, how about this round on the house? By the way, what's your name, stranger?"

[Hbgplayer]

Boddynock shrugs and nods, as if to say "sure, why not?"
He looks around to study the room that they are now in. He answers the bar-keep's question without turning, The name's Boddynock, and we have a couple of questions for ya, if you don't mind."

Spot check, looking for anything suspicous, and judging the age of the gnomes and dwarves : [roll0] :smallamused:

[The Tygre]

"Oh, no! Not at all! Ask anything you like! Real pleasure to meet you, real pleasure."

Boddynock's look around the room doesn't pick up anything suspicious, save for one detail. The two half-elves in the corner are unusually quiet, and the gnome could swear he saw them glancing over in his and his companions' general direction at least once.

At the other table, it appears the dwarf is middle-aged, roughly 150, while the two gnomes look a little younger (comparatively), both being around 60 to 65.

[Hbgplayer]

"Thank you kindly, good sir. Actually, I'm going to leave my companions here to ask you about the events we're investigating while I mosey on over and have a chat with my brethren over there," he says motioning towards the table with the gnomes and dwarf, "to talk with them."
Boddynock begins walking towards the table he indicated a moment ago, still keeping an eye out for anything strange.
Once at the table, he speaks in a respectful tone, first to the Gnomes in Gnome:
"Good morning, sirs,"
Then turning to the dwarf, and speaks in Dwarven to him:
"and a very good morning to you, sir,"
he then switches back to common to address the three of them.
"My companions and I are investigating a rash of crime that has occured recently, and I would like to ask a few questions, if you don't mind. Continuing in this language is O.K. if we must, but I would prefer to continue in either one of our native tounges, as to improve security; do we all know the other's languages?" he asks.

[The Tygre]

The three companions look between each other. One of the gnomes speaks up, "You're well met. And I thank you for the respectful greeting. However, out companion here (nodding to the dwarf) is not familiar with gnomish, what with being a stubborn ass and all."

"Got you to learn dwarven, didn't I?" The dwarf belches contentedly. The other gnome interjects, explaining, "So it looks like we'll be speaking dwarven."

"As you all should!" The dwarf cheerily bellows. "Now, 'bout these crimes. Folk been disappearing? I've seen this before. I used to be a stone-cutter's apprentice at Greyhawk. Same thing happened one Summer. Same deal as here. People just disappeared all over the city. Rich, poor, man, woman. Whole droves of em'. Never did find out what it was. But I've got my sources, an old thieves' guild buddy. He says that one night, he busts into a warehouse to filch some snake weed and spiced wine. He accidentally bursts into a room crawling with fellas in black cloaks. There's blood and runes all over the walls. And at the other end of the room? One of the disappeared folks, her throat slit wide open. He ran like Hell after that, but he was able to remember one thing real clear; a statue, something like a snake with two heads and squid arms. Reason he remembers? He says the statue had gems the size of my fist for eyes. You ask me, it's the same deal. Who's to say there's no fishy cult here, huh?"

[Cardea]

Morgan the Exile


Morgan follows behind Kelkin, standing beside the man. "Aye. That'll be fine." She says. She turns to the Bartender. "Morgan be my own name. This here be Kelkin. As Boddynock, we're looking to ask some questions and find some answers in turn. We're looking into the disappearances in the city, under the Church of St. Cuthbert's blessin'. Don't suppose you'd have heard anythin' in regards to them?"

[The Tygre]

Fallo awkwardly looks down, having taken a sudden intense interest in cleaning the counter. The barkeepr mutters, "Oh, I- I wouldn't know anything about that. I mean, anything important. Sometimes my customers talk, but they're just rambling, y'know? It's the ale. Makes people say stuff they don't know nothing about. It's not any of my business. I mean, I don't want to intrude on anyone. Definitely don't want to wind up like Tolstev, that's for sure. Not that anyone would ever do that to me! But, just in case. Say, can I get you folks some more to drink?"

[Cardea]

Morgan the Exile


Morgan lowers her voice, making it barely audible above the noise of the tavern, but loud enough for herself, Kelkin and the Bartender to hear. "Where I am from, we stop theft by breaking one of the man's arms. We stop murderers by hunting them. We stop those who would seek to dominate us by breaking them, seeing them run from us. But liars are the worst kind of poison to us. Lies create a weakness in a man. The only way to remove weakness from someone, is to make them feel pain. Pain is weakness leaving the body.

"I had taken you for a man of strength, but I might be wrong on that. So let me ask again, what do you know of these kidnappings, and who is this Tolstev you mentioned?"

Intimidate: [roll0]
COME ON BABY.

[Hbgplayer]

@^: Heck, I'm intimidated by that! :smalltongue:

Boddynock listens to the dwarf with rapt attention, and visibly pales on hearing his account.

"Oh. Oh dear. That's very disturbing! I hope that's not what's happening here, but it sure sounds similar. You said that it only lasted a single summer? How long after that did you live in Greyhawk? And do you recall any instances of young children disapearing? Quite a few have disapeared from a local orphanage, and one child that disapeared was a 12 year old dwarf!" Boddynock explained, emphasizing the age of the dwarf.

[Eldan]

Kelkin sighs.
"Really? Are you really doing this?"
He takes a sip of his ale and smacks his lips.
"For a man who has a pretty good dark, that's a pretty obvious one, isn't it? If you really wouldn't want to talk, why would you mention that you do know anything, and that something is wrong?"
He leans a bit closer.
"So. You are going to tell us, that much is obvious. This is really only about the details, isn't it? For example, one detail is that I could now leave the bar and leave my friend here alone with you."

Diplomacy:
1d20+4

[The Tygre]

Fallo cowers down and is visibly shaking. Tears well in his eyes as he squeaks out, "I'll tell! I'll tell everything! Just don't hurt me! Tolstev was a hire-on for the guards! He investigated the case and found some kind of clue! Something with the locks and who made them! He came in here to get drunk and spilled the beans in front of the whole tavern! Not even a few hours later, he was face down in the lake stuck like a pin-cushion! I told him not to talk so loud, not to say anything! I know the Last Laugh comes here to drink! They heard him and *schlikt* down he goes! Oh gods below, I don't want to die!"


_____

The dwarf and the gnomes both pale at the revelation. The dwarf admits, "Ye gods, that's low... But I can't be much help. I stayed in the city for another decade after that before moving on. I didn't hear much about the kidnappings or any kind of cult after that Summer. Not anymore so than usual. Greyhawk's a big city. People go missing every day. All sorts of weirdos coming and going. And far as I know, my friend was the only person to ever actually -see- the cult. The rest was just gossip. Wish I could be more help, but you know as much as I do now."

[Cardea]

Morgan the Exile


"Locks? Locks?" Morgan says, chuckling. She turns to Kelkin. "What did I say, right off the bat? Those things!" She turns back to Fallo. "Stop your whimpering. Who in this city makes locks?"

[Hbgplayer]

"Thank you very much, sirs, for both your time and information. I will not bother you any further," Boddynock says with a bow in Dwarven. He moves back to his compatriots and tells them what he's learned. He also checks to see if the group of half-elves are still checking on his group.

I will roll the spot check in OOC when I get a real computer, not my phone, so I can check my spot modifier.

[The Tygre]

Whimpering, Fallo sputters, "There're at least three locksmiths around town; but the one he kept talking about, the way Tolstev was going on, I think he meant Keygan Ghelve! He didn't get much beyond that, but it had to have been Ghelve! Now please let me go!"


_____

Boddynock checks on the two half-elves one more time. They seem to have lost interest in the group and have returned to conversing with each other.

[Hbgplayer]

Boddynock rendezvous with the rest of his group just in time to hear the end of Fallo's whimpering. "It sounds like you've made more progress on the current events than I have; the group I just talked to don't know anything about whats happening now, but the dwarf said that one summer when he lived in Greyhawk a rash of kidnappings occurred, similar to what's happening now, and one of his friends ran into a group sacrificing a girl to, and I quote, 'a statue, something like a snake with two heads and squid arms,'" he whispers, using air quotes, "I have a really bad feeling that that's happening here. What'd you learn?" He asks.

[The Tygre]

The three companions leave Fallo whimpering behind the counter and exit the Slippery Eel tavern. The noonday sun is shining brightly now, and the air clears as the trio ascend to Ghelve's Locks. Kelkin, Boddynock, and Morgan don't have to travel far. Still within the south-west district of Cauldron, just a little north from the Slippery Eel on Lava Avenue, stands the lock shop.

Carved from black stone, Ghelve's Locks is a suitably impressive shop. Two stories tall with barred windows, the facade of the building is dominated by a small turret. To the left of the turret, hanging above the oak door, is a sign with the shop's name. In the windows, the party can see locks of every kind displayed, from large to small, simple and complex.

The three companions enter abruptly. Inside, the storefont smells of wood and pipe smoke. Two padded chairs flank a hearth containing a small yet lively fire. The fireplace's carved mantle bears a tinderbox, a small vase of dried smoking leaves, and a finely wrought collection of pipes. A burgundy strip of carpet leads from the entrace to the wall across from it, where dozens - perhaps hundreds - of keys in all shapes and sizes hang from tiny hooks. Behind it hangs a red curtain that neatly hides the rest of the store.

Behind the counter, a pepper-haired man with a jeweler's lens on is busy at work adjusting an engraved lock. His salt-and-pepper hair, combined with a furrowed brow, neatly trimmed moustache and goatee, and grave frown make the man look frumpy and dour. His features suggest that he is a gnome, but that simply can't be when he stands over six feet tall! Without looking up, the man tiredly says, "Welcome to Ghelve's Locks, the finest locksmith in all of Cauldron. I'm Keygan Ghelve. How may I service you today?"

[Cardea]

Morgan


Morgan walks into the store smiling, which fades into a scowl the closer she gets to Ghelve. She looks down at him as she lumbers over him, her face still that of anger and cruelty. "Man was murdered a few nights ago at a bar. Silently, quickly and without much hassle or a fight. Was investigating disappearances in the city, mentioned locks. Mentioned your place, then his throat was slit.

"We're on a short schedule here, and here to get to the bottom of these crimes, since you're so hot you get men killed by the mere mention. So answer me, Keygan Ghelves, what do you know of the recent kidnappins' of the city?"

1d20+6
Assuming I'm taller than him.

[Hbgplayer]

Boddynock follows Morgan into the shop, but as she gets straight to the point, he has nothing to say, so he just stands there, looking as imposing as possible. He does look curiously at the man's features, though; he is puzzled as to why the man looks like a fellow gnome, but is almost twice his height.

[The Tygre]

Kelkin sighs. "It's been a long day, friend. You'd be wise to come out with the truth while you still have the chance. Whatever happens if you don't... well that's on you."

Still, Ghelve doesn't look up from his work. If anything, the fervor in his job increases. Sweat starts to bead on his brow as he says, "I'm... I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I've had enough of people asking me questions. So, kindly exit. I'll call the guards if you don't." For the first time during the whole conversation, Keygan makes eye contact with each of you, making sure not to move his head. He loudly whispers, "Get out. Get out of here now. You have to hurry and get out."

[Hbgplayer]

Boddynock furrows his eyebrows at the behavior the man, wondering exactly what is going on. "Ok, no problem, we're leaving, no need to get hasty on us," he says while waving with his other hand to keep his compainions from complaining. He then speaks Gnome, in a whisper just alittle quieter than the man's, "Sir, do you understand what I saying? If so, what is really going on here, and are there people here, other than us, that are trying to intimidate you?"

[The Tygre]

The sweat increases on Keygan's forehead. "That's good. Please come again. Just leave, please. They'll notice I'm talking to you soon." Morgan notices that Ghelve's eyes keep nervously darting to the curtain behind him.

[Cardea]

Morgan


Morgan takes note of the man's eyes, and sighs. She closes her eyes briefly, before opening them, their normal hue taking on a brighter red. She begins humming, as she takes out her axe. The air around her gets hotter, as her blood begins to boil. Her eyes begin a solid red, as she begins charging at the curtains. She holds her axe sideways in front of her, using its large hilt as a sort of... battering ram. And still, ever humming, she runs through.

Activating Eldritch Fury. Strength is 18, Charisma is 16.
Using Overrun to move through the curtains. Provokes AoO. Anyone who hits Morgan takes 1d6+1 Fire Damage. I gain +4 bonus to my check for every size category I am larger than whoever I Overrun.

Strength Check: [roll0]

[Hbgplayer]

Boddynock is about to say something else to the...man?... when Morgan charges the curtains.
"What the blazes are you doing??" He exclaims, reaching for his hammer and looking wildly for a threat.

[The Tygre]

Kelgan's face turns to panic as Morgan rushes through the curtains. She hits something and knocks it down on to the floor. There's a howl of pain: whatever is behind the curtain has been caught completely by surprise. It vaguely tries to defend, but is knocked to the ground by the charging barbarian. Looking over, all Morgan sees is what at first looks to be ripped curtains. But on a closer look, it's something incredible: a humanoid shape lays prone on the floor, its skin nearly identical to the velvet curtains!

Kelkin panics and reaches for his weapon immediately. An ambush?! He should have known! The veteran looks desperately around, but it's his sharp ears that confirm his suspicions. Kelkin hears the sound of footsteps rushing from upstairs!

[Eldan]

Kelkin sighs as Morgan begins charging.
If I meet the idiot who told me adventurer was a cushy job, I'll break his nose.
Then he hears the steps upstairs.
And maybe a finger or two.
He takes position next to the staircase, trying to stand at an angle that makes it difficult to see by someone running down from the upper floor.

I'm hoping to get an AoO here, of course. With the morningstar.

[Eldan]

And a hide check, for good measure.

[roll0]


"If possible, leave him alive, yes?", he whispers to Morgan.

[Cardea]

Morgan


Morgan's humming continues as Kelkin's words drift to her recognition. She nods briefly, as she turns her axe so the side of it comes down on the little creature. She smiles as it comes down, and in a sort of happy voice, says: "Zy nyt prʻt, pʼar ʼyk brʻngʻn şlʼapn."

Non-lethal attack.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Hbgplayer]

Boddynock's eyes go wide when the howl comes from behind the curtains. Ok, how the blazes did I miss that???? He rages at himself as he instead draws his crossbow and looks around for any more danger. Noticing that Kelkin is running towards the stairs drawing a weapon, he sets himself up to defend himself from that direction. "How many of them are there?" he asks the shop keeper in gnome.

Spot any additional danger: [roll0]

[The Tygre]

The creature behind the curtains almost slips away from Morgan before she lands a solid blow. The chameleon creature falls to the ground with a loud grunt, unconscious. It's camouflage fades away, revealing a hairless, gray-skinned humanoid wielding a dagger.

Back in the main room, Keygan yells out, "Two! There are two more in here! Be careful! They're practically invisible!" The masters of stealth upstairs begin their descent with subtlety and grace... well, at least one of them does. The outline of a figure tries to jump over the stair-bannister to get to Kelkin and Boddynock faster. Half-way through the leap, however, the creature catches its foot on the railing and promptly falls to the ground floor face-first. Its companion continues its descent down the stairs, though it promptly stops when it sees Kelkin trying to ambush it. The creatures hisses as it reveals itself and draws a rapier.

Initiative Order
Skulk 2
Boddynock
Skulk 1 (KO'd!)
Kelkin
Morgan
Skulk 3

Skulk 2 is now prone.

Skulk 3 spends two move actions taking position on the stairs and drawing its weapon.

[Cardea]

Morgan


Morgan looks at the creature on the stairwell, smiling. She raises up her axe, charging the distance it takes to get to it with her axe. "ʼyynʻr ʼyz lynqs lʻbʻdyq. Myya ʼyk tyytn dy ʼndʻr?"

Charging the stairwell-skulk.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[The Tygre]

Morgan's axe just barely misses the creature, its slender frame but an inch from the warrior's weapon. The fiend retaliates, lunging its rapier at the barbarian.

The second creature recovers itself, pulling itself up from the ground to join the fray.

Skulk 3 attacking Morgan.
Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

Skulk 2 is raising itself from its prone position, provoking an attack of opportunity.

[Cardea]

Morgan


"Pyln wwyytyq. Pyln ẕʼárʻs. Pyln gʼárnyt ʼábʻr şlʼápn." Morgan says, her smile turning into a slight frown.

Fireblood activates whenever someone hits me in melee.
Fireblood Fire Damage: [roll0]

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

In case I could've gotten an AoO on that Skulk.
Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]

[Hbgplayer]

Boddynock nods with the information, but is surprised none the less by the appearance of the two-creatures-on the stairwell. He aims initially at the creature that is still on the stairs, but sees that Morgan is taking care of that, and re-aims towards the one that fell off the stairs and fires a bolt from his crossbow at it.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

He then drops the crossbow and draws his hammer, again.

[The Tygre]

The thing on the stairwell is singed from Morgan's magic, letting out a yowl as the arcane fire sears it. The pain is brief, however, as Morgan's axe cleaves the slick humanoid in two! A splash of crimson bursts backwards over the stairs as the creature flies apart.

Down below, the remaining humanoid visibly pales. It's one on three now, and the lanky sneak is no fighter. The creature drops its weapon and runs for the back of the store, past where the curtains used to be, in a mad dash to escape, blood still dripping from its fresh crossbow bolt wound.

Skulk 3 is, as we in the business refer to it, a dead mother****er.

Skulk 2 runs to get to the back of the store and out of sight.

[Cardea]

Morgan


"Yk wwʻt nwẕn ʼyyʻr byynʻr wwy mkşyrym, ẕw gyyn ʼap ʼarʼáṗ dyyn myşṗʼákʻ!" Morgan shouts, raising up her axe like a ram yet again. She chases after the creature, behind the curtains, the last strain of eldritch power coursing through her mind.

Using Overrun again. +4 if I'm bigger than the thing.
[roll0]

[The Tygre]

Morgan bursts into the back-room. It appears to be Keygan's workshop: locks, bolts, frames, and traps all hang from the wall. A long wooden table is covered with working utensils and half-finished devices. There even appears to be an open spell-book on the table, resting on a pile of scrolls and schematics.

None of the windows in the room have been opened, and there don't appear to be any other doors. Either the creature is still in here, or it knows something that it's pursuers don't.

Avast, make yourselves a Spot/Search check. If you've got anything to boost it, now's the time to pull it out.

[The Tygre]

Morgan and Kelkin's search yields no result. Somehow, somewhere in this room, the creature is hiding. As the two search the workshop, Ghelve steps in. His face is hard and cold now, marred by a vengeful anger to his former captor. The worker looks at the floor for a minute, his eyes slowly drifting to his table. He finally speaks out, sternly saying, "It's no use hiding under there. I can't see you, but that wound of yours was a dead give-away. You're trapped now; no ways in, and no ways out. Your friends aren't coming to help you. Just give yourself up. Maybe these folks will go easy on you." Keygan eyes Morgan and Ghelve before adding, "Doubtful, though."

A voice hisses from underneath the table. It's a hissing, unpleasant sound, that bitterly says to Keygan, "You'll pay for this Ghelve! You and your little pet are going to rot in the deeps for this treachery! Someone will come looking for us and then you and your thugs will DIE!"

"Maybe." Ghelve adds, "But between now and then, it's just us four." Ghelve turns top Morgan and Kelkin as he says, "I'm not saying kill him. But if the slimy little git loses some teeth, I don't think anyone will be sorry."

[Cardea]

Morgan


"I will speak slowly, so you can understand each word." Morgan says, the color in her eyes fading away to their normal appearance. "If anyone comes looking for you, they will find nothing but an empty shell of whatever you are. They will find a soul broken. A body weakened. A mind shattered. They will find a wretched little thing that wished it could still cry. A small, pathetic little runt that wishes its voice still came, so it could warn them of what was done to it. You may call me a thug if you want to, but you are wrong, little thing.

"I am a nightmare. And any that would hunt me in your name would find the same result as your other companions: steel and flame. So move out where we can see you, so we can ask questions. And we might entertain the notion of letting you walk away."

Intimidate: [roll0]

Edit: AND THEN MORGAN SCARED EVERYTHING EVER.

[The Tygre]

There's a long moment of silence as even Ghelve looks terrified at what he's unleashed in his little lock-shop. Finally, the hissing voice pitifully mewls, "I'm coming out now."

The creature hops from under the table. It stays curled in on itself as it faces the three adventurers and Keygan. Its camouflage fades away, and it pitifully shivers in front of Morgan. Keygan doesn't waste any time, "Talk fast. Where's Starbrow?"

"He's in Jzadirune. Being guarded. South section. Safe."

"... Well all right then." Keygan turns to the three adventurers before looking back at the creature, "I guess you three have the right to know what's going on now. It all started a long time ago. When I was a young man, I used to be a local adventurer. Real local. Beneath this city is the lost gnome colony of Jzadirune. Me and some friends went exploring, trying to solve the mystery of the place. Everybody disappeared in it, but no one knows why."

"We found an entrance in this building. The last one in the city now. After we bought the place, we went down, and when the job got too dangerous, we came back and settled. Our adventurin' days were over. Well, that's what I thought. I'm the last now, of the original five of us that went underground. Nothin' sinister, they just passed on."

"Then three months ago, my old entrance burst out. That's when these little bastards started crawling through. It's these kind, the lanky grays, and little dark fellas all dressed in black. First thing they did was put a knife to my throat and told me if I said a word to anyone, I was a dead man. They took my familiar, Starbrow, for leverage's sake."

"I'll never forget the look one of the lanky ones gave me when he found out I was a lock man. It was a smile that could turn Hell's heart cold. He made me show them everyone I'd sold a lock to for the last year, all my records and schematics. I had to make skeleton keys for them literally at knife point. Every night, they go out. Every night, I sit in the back room with a crossbow aimed right at my head, pretendin' I didn't hear the screams for help. I'm not proud of it. But a man does crazy things when he's a cut away from life and death."

[Hbgplayer]

After sitting a bit in the back to make sure nothing tries to sneak attack anyone, Boddynock goes in back and catches up on what he missed.
After hearing Keygan's story, he holsters his crossbow and draws his Gnome Hooked-Hammer, and twirls it in the air a bit and says to the creature: "So, where have you taken those that you've kidnapped?"

[The Tygre]

The still submissive intruder hisses, "Far, far down. Past the ruins of Jzadirune and to the markets of The Malachite Fortress. Kazmojen sends us after whatever his market demands. From there, I cannot say where they go. It is not my duty to track the merchandise."

"The Malachite Fortress?" Keygan asks with sudden interest. "It exists? So Gregor's theories are true. This whole city is like a tower; each floor a city built on top of another. We tried to reach it, but we could never find an entrance. Not before the curse of the place made us have to leave."

[Hbgplayer]

Bodyknock's eye's narrow at the mention of a market, and he utters a low hiss. He is about to respond when Keygan replies.
Raising his eyebrows, he inquires "What kind of curse?"