Eberron - Chimes at Midnight

[Nimrod]

http://i1249.photobucket.com/albums/hh516/mad_gondsman/Sharn/Sharn_zpsf4f9adea.jpg

Sharn, the largest city on the continent of Khorvaire, knows many names: the City of Towers, the City of Knives, the City of Lost Souls, the Gateway to Perdition, the Gateway to Xen'drik. The name which you ascribe to such a many-faceted city such as this would largely depend upon the nature of your business on any given day. Within the walls that rise from the cliff faces of the Hilt is a maddening network of structures that defies not only logic but the very truths that bind the world together, as well. Towers piled on top of towers reach higher and higher still, creating a man-made mountain of spires and skyscrapers that disappears into the dark clouds above.

From the the sordid filth that surrounds the furnaces and foundries within the churning molten depths of the Cogs to the grand crystalline spires suspended far above the tallest towers of the Upper City, Sharn seethes with activity. Majestic and beautiful skyships soar between the flying towers where unimaginably wealthy scions of noble birth and Dragonmarked houses make their homes. Meanwhile, houseless ragamuffins scrape, steal, and fight just to survive, forgotten beneath the weight and shadows of the city. To say that Sharn is beautiful and a marvel to behold is to turn a blind eye the squalor below. To say that it is the pinnacle of civilization is to ignore the politics, plots, and selfish schemes of the men that make this city their home.

Every day, a hundred adventures unfold in the City of Towers. This is but one...

[Nimrod]

The Bazaar, Middle Dura

Sypheros is a month of unbridled passions. In a carnal tribute to the Fury, the citizens of Sharn cast off their inhibitions and carnivals rage in the streets. These bacchanalian revels culminate in Wildnight, on the 17th, when the Sovereign of Passion and Madness reaches the height of her power. The autumn air is tinged with an electric chill and the cautious lock their doors against the Wildnight while the adventuresome prowl the streets seeking diversion. The rumble of drums and the blaring of horns echoes through the crowded streets and alleyways of the Bazaar of Dura. On a normal day, the crowds that gather here to barter and trade are overwhelming. With Wildnight only a few days away, it is nothing short of bedlam. Yet here you are at the order of your venture captain, pushing your way through the throng in pursuit of a thief...

The rythmic thumping of drums is indistinguishable from your hearts' pounding in your ears as you dash through the crowded byways of the Bazaar, pushing drunken revelers and spectators out of the way as they crowd about to watch at the parade marching by. The braying of trumpets and the howls of the crowd make your ears ring while your eyes burn from the smoke of the accompanying pyrotechnics. Gouts of flame light the dark evening skies as fire-breathers march past, their bodies covered with oils... and little else. A band of ogres marches close behind, pounding upon war drums with such gusto that the stones shake beneath your feet.

If anyone minds your violent shoving, they do not show it. Jostling forward, bowling people over when you have to, you crane your necks and push with all your might, attempting to catch up with the thief who absconded with your package. At the behest of a wealthy scholar, Matron Martra dispatched you to meet with a man at the Broken Anvil to make an exchange. You arrived, however, to find him dead in the alleyway nearby... with a cloaked figure standing over him, bloody dagger in hand. You can see the bright red mask that he wore flash in the angry glow of the low-hanging red lanterns as he repeatedly looks back over his shoulder, gauging the distance between you as he flees... your package tucked under his arm!

There is a crash above the din as the masked thief throws his entire weight against some rickety-looking scaffolding where workers take a break from hanging decorations to gawk at the performers dancing by. Their raucous calls turn into howls and curses as the structure teeters to the side, crashing down atop nearby stands, dragging down awnings and scattering goods through the street. Neither the crowd nor the vendors even notice, however, so intent are they upon the parade! A goblin worker dangles from one of the banners strung high overhead, screeching indignantly and kicking his legs as you leap over the debris in pursuit of your prey.

Ahead, over the crowd, you see a final flash of red as the masked figure disappears into a shadowy alleyway...



OOC:
And here we go! As mentioned above, you enter the adventure mid-chase. To clear the wreckage of the scaffolding, you must either succeed at a DC 10 Acrobatics check or squeeze through the crowd with a DC 15 Escape Artist check.

If you succeed, you will draw closer to him! If you fail either, you are hung up within the wreckage (or sprawled bodies of the workers) or caught within the crowd, helpless to watch as the thief escapes down the alleyway.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The woman races through the crowd with an air of furious frustration and impatience. She shoulders past distracted spectators and plows through unsuspecting families like a Swordtooth titan through a sleeping halfling camp. The giant hammer in her hands thrusts forward, its mass knocking bystanders aside while propelling her forward.

Her flowing shock of sweaty brown hair jounces as she coromes off the unmoving pauldron of a warforged, and she hurls blistering invective at the metal man as she takes up the chase again.

Angry as Sgt. Dell is at this red-hooded thief, she's just as bitter at her own reckless actions. If only she hadn't played that last hand of Three Dragon Ante ... or maybe last two or three hands? She wouldn't have lost her carefully hoarded savings and special items. Thank Olladra she'd passed out before adding her magic hammer to the stakes.

The hooded man threw down a huge scaffold, sending people and debris scatting into her path. She growls in annoyance and leaps agilely over wooden planks and sprawling goblins. "Hey!" she shouts at the fleeing figure, "I hope you enjoy this run cuz I'm gonna break your legs!"


Acrobatics [roll0]

[rypt]

"Sovereign and Six..." Eoli mutters through gritted teeth, barely able to discern the sound of his own voice from amidst the tumult of the crowd. His breathing labored, and with sweat matting his hair across his eyes, the elf sidesteps a stumbling dwarf reeking of strong drink, rotten meat and worse before slipping between a pair of human women, their arms raised high in revelry as they marvel at the fireworks bursting overhead.

He makes it half-way down the block before nearly colliding with a boisterous band of Tharashk strongmen seeking a better view of parade. Cutting to his left, he ducks beneath an awning and behind a row of street-food vendors, ignoring their colorful protests as he vaults one merchant stall after another before tripping over the crawling form of a would-be thief.

Whether it was a child or a halfling, Eoli couldn't be sure, but he staggers back into the crowd in order to avoid the ensuing conflict, and it is then that he spots their masked assailant nearing the edge of the crush not a dozen yards ahead. Pressing on with renewed vigor, he snatches a sharpened knife from the air above the hands of a juggling half-orc, and rounding the next corner, draws the blade back as if to throw it.

He is met not with the back of his target, but by a field of scattered debris and shrieking goblins. Without missing a step, he takes the dagger between his teeth, and leaps over wreckage, using the toppled frame of the scaffolding to swing himself clear.

With his keen elven eyes to guide him through the darkness, he continues his pursuit into the alleyway without hesitation.

[Starbin]

Kra-jak ghosted through the crowd, stepping in the gaps left behind by the more forceful of his companions. He slipped in and out of the flickering shadows of torches, gaslamps and even fire breathers. As he ran, his attention was focused on two distinct things - the form of their fleeing target, and the path to reach him. Each step was calculated and measured to achieve the least amount of resistance with the highest probability of success. His focus came not from any formal education in such matters, but an innate agility and force of will from years of training.

The cries of the city faded as he found his center, blocking out the grunts and shouts of gyrating bodies that stood between he and the man they chased. It was difficult, separating himself from the world while moving within and through it at the same time. It would be easy to fall into old habits. Let the beating of the ogre drums and the rhythm of the music bring out his baser instincts ... drop to all fours and fling himself through the crowds with wild abandon ... leap high and land upon the back of his prey ... claws slicing at the vulnerable hamstring to hamper it's movement while his teeth descended upon that open throat to rip and tear ...

Blinking, Kra-jak shook his head, nearly hitting one of the dancing celebrators as he moved behind Dell, barely hearing her shout at the fleeing thief. Suddenly, the scaffolding near a building was falling, and the debris left a mess of the path. Without hesistation, Kra-jak continued, leaping forward to try and clear the wreckage and continue the chase.

He would not be stopped.

He would not lose focus.

Sorry about the delay - no wireless sucks! So here's me trying ot catch up!

Kra-jak's Acrobatics bonus should give him an auto-success vs a DC 10; I'll roll just in case it affects how quickly or slowly we close with the target. [roll0]

[Don_Discovery]

Aluatra brought up the rear of her party, hurling insults at groups of revelers that got in her way as she plowed past them with her shield, intent on catching up to the others. The cacophony of the drums, the raucous cheers and curses of the streets melding together with the pounding of her heart and the ch-ch-ch-chink of her rurstling chainmail to form a dissonant din that would severely grate on her nerves. As her attention lapsed for a moment she tripped over a prone halfling and knocked over a half-orc juggler as she stumbled, the pissed off juggler began chucking his knives at her back as the crowd that was watching the entertainer burst out into laughter at his misfortune.

Ducking around the corner to avoid the half-orc's throwing knives she finds the rest of her squad deftly making their way through the wreckage of the scaffolding and the bodies of many agitated goblin workers. Taking a moment to stare at the one that managed to get himself stuck on a banner overhead. "Dammit! I don't have the time to check if they need healing right now. May the Nine show this thief mercy because they know we won't." Aluatra swears a bit more before carefully making her way after the thief.


[roll0] Acrobatics

[Nimrod]

The tangled mess of the toppled scaffolding buries several spectators and vendors underneath a pile of splintered trusses and indignant workers. The crowd continues to roar, however, and the parade continues as Aluatra, the last of your group, leaps over the mess and dashes into the alley in pursuit of the thief. Dell, the former sergeant in the Last War, is the first to plunge into the dark of the alleyway... and while the fallen scaffolding doesn't get her, a garbage pail almost does! It is difficult for the human to make out the ground in front of her, much less the thief.

The rest of you, however, possess eyes more suited for the dim lighting. As plain as if it were day, you can see the thief climbing a gutter-spout, making for a rooftop villa!

There is a roaring of wind and a sharp crack of thunder from above, loud enough to drown out the raucous crowd behind you! Even the thief pauses his ascent to peer up at the sky as a Lyrandar air ship cruises low overhead, the glowing ring of blue light literally thundering with elemental energy. The winds generated by the ship rush through the narrow alley, creating mini-whirlwinds which pepper you with trash and filthy run-off water from higher in the city. While an awesome sight, the thief does not pause for long! And neither does Dell as the ship's ring is more than enough to light the way for her...

The murderer slips over the edge of the rooftop villa just as the first of you arrives at the foot of the cluster of spouts. And as he disappears, so does the Lyrandar airship pass over, plunging the alleyway into darkness once more...

You pick one of several spouts leading upward and begin your climb... but no sooner have you cleared the ground than the masked thief reappears at the edge of the villa with a clay pot lifted over his head! With a grunt, the figure hurls the planter at you!

OOC:
Since you all passed the initial skill checks, you are successful at closing the gap a little more! The murderer now only has a 20' lead on you. He pauses to throw potted plants from the villa at you to slow you, but only connects with Aluatra and Eoli, who both suffer 2 points subdual damage as the clay pots shatter atop their head and shoulders, covering them with dirt (and colorful flowers).

To maintain your lead, you must succeed at a DC 10 Climb check. Aluatra and Eoli must make two consecutive checks, the first to maintain the lead and the second to avoid falling after being struck by the pots! Should you fall, a successful DC 15 Acrobatics check will negate any damage from the fall, which would otherwise be 1d6 damage.

Once you draw close to the building's ledge, the murderer/thief retreats... and the chase continues.

(Also, while I pointed out that Dell might have trouble in the darkened alley way, it is only momentary (thanks to the airship) so she is not actually hindered by the lack of light.)

[Starbin]

Kra-jak continued his run, glancing at the others only long enough to verify that everyone was still there. As they turned the corner and approached a tall wall in a shadowy alley, he could see the thief hitting the top of the roof and disappearing over.

Undaunted, Kra-jak rushed towards the wall, hitting it at the same time as the others, scrambling to reach the top. Half-way up, two pots came soaring down, striking the elf and healer on their shoulders.

Climb: [roll0] vs DC 10
Acrobatics: [roll1] vs DC 15, if necessary
EDIT: Whew, glad it wasn't necessary!

Leaping upwards and to the right, the monk avoided a similar fate and continued up the wall like a spider. Reaching the top, he paused long enough to scan the area for their target before proceeding.

Not sure if you want us to roll the Perception check, but Kra-jak has a +9

[Gorgon_Heap]

Sgt. Dell touches the wall for a moment as her eyes adjust to the sudden light and darkness.She jumps to the side as a pot crashes to the ground. "Now that's just childish!"

She grasps her hammer in her left hand uses her powerful limbs to race upward.

Climb [roll0]

[rypt]

Eoli has only just begun his climb when one of the falling pots shatters across the top of his head, knocking the knife from his teeth and enveloping his face in a choking cloud of dirt. Momentarily blinded, he fails to notice that a section of the drain above him is corroded, and as he stubbornly attempts to continue his ascent, the thin metal pipe crumbles under his grip. Off balance, and with only one hand to hold him against the wall, his poor footing fails him, and he crashes to the ground with a painful thud.

Growling curses in the elvish and common tongues alike, he rises to his feet, wipes the dust his from his eyes, and spits out a mouthful of blood from a cut on his lip. His left elbow is bleeding, and he can feel an ugly bruise beginning to form on his hip, but he knows from experience that these injuries aren't serious enough to slow him down. After picking out a sturdier downspout, he steps as far back from the wall as the width of the alleyway will allow and intones a word of power. Drawing on the magic woven into his shirt, he sprints headlong towards the wall with such speed that he manages to take three steps up the side of the villa before reaching out to take hold of the gutter. Using his momentum to carry him upward, it takes mere moments for him to scale the remaining distance and swing himself onto the roof.

[Don_Discovery]

Aluatra begin casting a spell before being hit with the planter, causing her to lose her grip and fall from her climb. Fortunately she was dexterous enough to not be harmed by the fall. With a growl she felt a heroic surge course through her body as she barely manages to keep focus to finish her casting. "In the name of Onatar and the Sovereign Host, I, Aluatra Dawnsblood forbid you from moving, Wretch!"


[roll0] Climb!
[roll1] Acrobatics if needed! (Hopefully not)

[roll0] Concentration Check Spending a hero point (+4) to make my concentration check.

[Nimrod]

The masked figure's shoulders shake as if he is having a good laugh watching Eoli and Aluatra fall from the drainspouts. Turning for a moment, he grabs anything he can get his hands on, launching it down towards Kra-Jak and the determined Sergeant Dell... though his aim is not as good. Perhaps it is the sight of the elf getting back to his feet before leaping halfway up the spout, pulling himself hand-over-hand along the drainpipe that startles him, but he does not manage another direct hit. To your irritation, having chased him across three districts so far, he turns to flee once more... but then freezes where he stands!

"In the name of Onatar and the Sovereign Host, I, Aluatra Dawnsblood forbid you from moving, Wretch!" Aluatra commands from her place at the foot of the villa, her words carrying more than their usual weight! Kra-Jak, Sergeant Dell, and Eoli pull themselves over the precipice of the villa to see the masked, leather-clad and cloaked thief staring down at his legs as if they have betrayed him...

The villa is lit once more by a sky coach as you swing your legs over the railing and get your feet beneath you. The figure's mask glows red in the light of the coach... as does the long, wicked-looking, curved knife that he pulls from his belt. He ceases his struggle against Aluatra's magics and tosses the package behind him before settling into a low stance, ready to attack!

The roar of the celebrant crowd continues, accompanied by a peculiar chorus of trumpet blasts as a train of wagons halts in the street below the villa...


OOC:
If attacking, roll initiative and include the result in your next post!

[rypt]

The magic of his shirt fading as quickly as it had come, Eoli's chest heaves beneath his armor as he eyes the masked figure with a cold and dreadful apathy. He had been hired to retrieve a parcel, and that is precisely what he intends to do. The death of its owner had not concerned him, and neither would the death of the one who possesses it now.

"Druun Khruur rhaan dhuul'den," he calls, perhaps surprisingly, in the harsh language of the goblins. "Daan agaan dhuur darak halarlaan. Druuc daan meklaan, ol'daan a taar rhec dec ac dar, o dech draal oc den kuurluuc."

Translation for those who understand goblin:
"Don't be a fool. We are here for the package. Drop your knife, or I swear by wind and word, you will die on this rooftop."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Sgt. Dell's giant hammer clanks against the stone railing and she hauls herself up and over with a fluid swing of her legs. She grunts out a breath and tosses her head back, whipping damp hair from her eyes.

Seeing the runner is now still, she's in no rush, and hoists the hammer in both hands once again. She nods in satisfaction and strides forward with determination as the man turns to face his pursuers.

"'Bout time," she growls. She jukes from right to left and spins the maul quickly through a brief whirl before dropping low and doing as she promised - swinging the massive head in a low, broad arc at the man's legs.

Attack [roll0]
Crit check [roll1]
Damage [roll2]

Frak. Completely opposite rolls between and attack and crit check. Wish I could reverse those.

[Nimrod]

The masked figure tightens his gloved grip on his wicked-looking knife, a hiss issuing from beneath the red mask sculpted into that of a laughing devil.

"Nahn luuc doum'an! Yarr guthash GHAAL'DAR!" the figure shouts, though whether out of anger or to be heard over the carnival, you cannot tell. As Sergeant Dell strikes, he leaps over the low blow, his boots landing with a hard clomp upon the wooden planks of the rooftop garden... exactly where he once stood as if Aluatra's words bound him from taking even one step! He lashes out as she withdraws, though it is more to test her reflexes and find his range more than anything.



For those of you who understand Goblin:
"It is not yours! It belongs to the the mighty people (hobgoblins)!"
Combat continues!

[Starbin]

Krajak nodded in silent appreciation for Aluatra's quick thinking. It stopped the thief cold, and placed him in the unenviable position of dealing with four capable Digger's.

As the group closed in the elf, Eoli, called out a challenge or something in a foul language, obviously waiting for a response. Before the thief could respond, Dell rushed forward, swinging that huge hammer of hers - ever the straight-forward (if rather brutish) approach! Unbalanced by her over-eagerness, however, she missed, and the thief shouted back defiantly to Eoli, in the same harsh tongue.

Uncertain of what the exchange had been, Krajak slid forward, pulling his weapon from his back with smooth practice. The long blade at the end marked it as something more than a simply spear, even if it was just as long. Seeing the nasty looking blade slashed in the direction of Dell, Kra-jak slashed forward with his blade. The man had stolen something from their contact, which was not a death threat in and of itself. However, in attacking his companions, the thief had chosen his own fate.

Well, this shifter doesn't know goblin, so hopefully he wasn't saying "I give up!"
Attacking from 10ft back w/naginata: [roll0].
Damage (if necessary): [roll1]

[rypt]

Were it not for Hallina's mighty charge, the masked figure might have seen Eoli draw his sword. Had the sergeant's maul not been so large, its capacity for harm not so terrible, he might have taken note of the elf's measured advance. Were it not for the threatening length of Krajak's bladed staff, the masked figure might have noticed the flash of pale blue light in Eoli's empty hand. And had the shifter's aim been less than true, the cutting edge of his naginata not quite so sharp, the masked figure might have felt more than a pin-prick as the tip of Eoli's slender blade pierces the flesh of his lower back, finding a gap between his ribs before delivering a charge of electricity equivalent to a small bolt of lightning.

Swift Action: Eoli will expend one point from his pool to grant his sword a +1 enhancement bonus.

Move Action: Eoli will move forward to (hopefully) flank the masked figure.

Standard Action: Eoli will use his Spellstrike ability to deliver Shocking Grasp through his sword.

Attack: 19 (+2 if flanking bonus applies, +3 if Shocking Grasp's bonus vs. metal applies)
Damage: 18 (I forgot to add the +1 damage from the weapon's enhancement bonus to my damage roll)
Rolls (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=14527468&postcount=16)

[Nimrod]

Trapped atop the villa, the masked rogue shows himself to be a capable opponent. Under different circumstances, the fellow may have been more than a match for any one of you. Alas, he is not facing one of you, however...

Having evaded Sergeant Dell's first swing, he flashes his knife through the air, making Kra-Jak work, even at range. Like a chime, the masked fellow's knife rings out again and again against the steel of the shifter's bladed staff. With a thrust, Kra-Jak draws first blood. It is Eoli, however, that puts an end to the battle before it even truly begins.

Occupied as the masked one is against Kra-Jak, he does not notice the elf slipping up behind him. While the strike is not as dramatic or as vicious as some, the magic that Eoli unleashes turns whatever words the Goblin-speaking thief had into a strangled cry! Lightning flashes across his body, lighting the dark villa briefly and causing him to convulse uncontrollably until Eoli withdraws his sword, leaving the thief to collapse in a heap, smoke billowing out from underneath his cloak! His red-bladed knife clatters to a halt at Kra-Jak's feet and his breaths come in short, ragged bursts... the last breaths of a dying man. With a singleminded determination, however, he weakly reaches out for the package as if with his last ounce of strength he would be able to prevent you from taking it! Although he is not laughing any longer, the ridiculous red mask which he wears is as amused as ever.

Just a block away, the raucous celebration continues with marching bands and the cries of those caught up in the celebration, punctuated with the snap and boom of fireworks. You would not think that they could possibly get any louder, yet the din seems to intensify as if a grand finale approaches. A shrill, warbling horn sounds out, barely perceptible over the noise...



He certainly didn't last long! Nice work. :smallamused: While not dead, he is definitely disabled and dying. Sending PMs for more results of skill checks.

[Starbin]

While the beast that slumbered deep within might have once howled in victory, Kra-jak simply bowed his head for a moment at the defeat of a skilled opponent. Kneeling down, he pushed the package away from the man with his spear, while reaching for the mask to see the would-be thief's face.

However, something caught his ears, a sound on the wind that brought his head whipping around to glance away from the man. In a quiet voice, he looked to the others. "Did anyone else hear that? A scream, not far away."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Letting the head of her mallet thunk heavily to the rooftop as she leans on the butt of the handle, the sergeant is disinterested. "Nah. So what? Just get what we came for."

[Starbin]

Kra-jak glanced at Dell, his continuing assessment of her sensibilities evolving everyday he spent time around her. Nodding towards the package, he stood, his voice quiet and unemotional. "The package is there. The thief lives, that we may question his motives and intent. As for the scream, I will investigate."

Moving to the edge of the roof, he stared in the direction of the cry, his eyes trying to pierce the darkness.

Low-light vision and +9 to Perception checks ... not sure if you want us to roll those or if you want to.

[Gorgon_Heap]

"Aaaand, there he goes," Sgt. Dell says with a sigh. She picks up the package and tosses it to Eoli. "Well struck, elf. That sword magic? Zapping your enemy with lightning seems like a useful thing for a weapon to do." There's just a hint of admiration in her voice.

She then picks up the killer's knife, carefully cleaning the blade againt the disabled man's pants leg before stowing it out of sight.

[rypt]

Neither proud of the lives he has ended, nor the proficiency with which he has ended them, Eoli scoffs at Dell's appraisal of his talents as he slips the package into his pack.

"I heard it too," he says to the sergeant as Kra-jak steps away, "less than a block away." Making no move to follow the shifter, he drops to a knee instead, and uses the thief's own garments to wipe the blood from his sword. Angling an ear towards the sky, he adds, "and those horns, they belong to a Medani garrison." There is a subtle, suggestive lilt in his voice, hinting at his suspicion that the two sounds are no mere coincidence.

After sheathing his sword, the elf looks down upon their dying foe. "We should be going. Our package is a relic of his people. I have no doubt that they will send another to retrieve it." At this, a small dagger appears in his hand, leaving as little doubt to his intentions.

If anyone has any questions for our dying friend, now would be the time to ask them. Eoli will stop if prompted to do so.

[Nimrod]

Kra-Jak begins his decent back down the gutters to join Aluatra in the alleyway below the villa as Eoli takes care of unfinished business. The fireworks continue to thump in the sky overhead, sending bright red and yellow cinders to drift down between the massive towers. For the first time in what seems like an hour, you are finally able to catch your breath after having chased the masked thief clear across Dura. Below the villa, a throng of wild dancers arrayed in headdresses of beads, horsehair, and feathers pass by. With the parade on the other side of the block passed, these apparently wish to keep the celebration going. They whirl and twist their way along the street, followed by a band coaxing impossibly chaotic rhythms from their drums. People and merchants cheer as they pass, their faces appearing devilish and crazed underneath the hellish glow of the red lanterns. It has been a wild night, indeed... but things continue to get wilder.

Amid the celebratory noise, a roar rises above the din and the cheers of celebration become peppered with a chorus of piercing hysteric screams! The drumming dissipates as the band relents, their racket replaced by the sounds of breaking wood, steel singing against steel, snarls, and guttural cries of pain! Looking out into the street from the villa and adjacent alleyway, you watch as the procession turns to flee, their eyes wide with fear!



I hate to rush things, so I didn't want to update too much.

The ruckus is coming from an intersection roughly 100' away from where the group is located. To prevent splitting up the group, consider that Kra-Jak and Aluatra were delayed by the dancers and drummers.

[Gorgon_Heap]

[Dell stays with the others, watching for whatever is coming but mostly looking for the fastest exit away from the crush of people]

[Starbin]

Kra-jak glanced at Aluatra, then back to the direction of the screams. This was no mere crime of opportunity ... there was battle up ahead!

Reaching down, the monk picked up a small stone and threw it up to hit the tiles on the roof near Dell and Eoli. When one glanced over, he gave a low whistle of warning and pointed towards the sound of commotion. Then he moved to the wall of the nearest building, using the shadows to edge forward, his eyes searching the darkness ahead for the conflict he could hear.

Perception: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]

[Nimrod]

The intersection ahead is a chaotic scene of utter carnage. A caged wagon is overturned in the middle of the road, its crystal-studded wheels spinning in the air as the earth elemental that propels the vehicle stubbornly tries to push forward. A handful of armed guards wearing the sigil of House Medani are engaged in a pitched battle with frenzied goblins and hobgoblins, all wearing gray prison uniforms. Bodies of goblins and guards alike are splayed in the street, their blood running along the cracks between the cobblestones. Three hobgoblins have armed themselves with longswords from the fallen guards, and another falls as you watch, clubbed into unconsciousness by a duo of goblins. Then you see the source of the horrible roaring. A towering ettin, his barrel-like torso and massive arms riddled with crossbow bolts, staggers into view, nearly three times as tall as any of you! His proportions resemble those of a dwarf, with short, powerful-looking legs and a long, wide torso thick with muscle. With both heads shouting in unison, he lays into another Medani guard with two huge planks of wood, dropping the khorovar where he stands! One of its heads lolls, grimacing in pain, its neck lanced with a black-feathered bolt from farther down the street...

The Medani guards have taken heavy casualties, and once they fall, there is no telling how many more will die before the Watch arrives. The screams continue as people either run for their lives or try to find a safe place to hide as the escaped prisoners sew havoc!

"Sovereigns and Six!" Aluatra gasps in astonishment from behind Kra-Jak...

Since only three of you are still here and two elected to check out the scene, I figured I could go ahead and update. I rolled for initiatives, just in case you decide to get involved. :smallwink: Aluatra will support you if you decide to do so.

Initiatives:
K: (1d20+7)[18]
A: (1d20+7)[14]
D: (1d20+2)[10]
E: (1d20+4)[19]
Battle map! (http://i1249.photobucket.com/albums/hh516/mad_gondsman/MAPS/Prison-Caravan-Escape-2_zps678a5700.jpg) It may look like a lot, but many of them are wounded from the battle for their freedom as they would apparently rather die than go back to jail. The ettin has especially taken a lot of damage and they are only armed with improvised weapons or swords from the fallen Medani guards. The guards managed to slay quite a few prisoners, so the ones that remain may not have very much fight in them... though the ettin is another story, raging out its anger on anything within reach. Civilians, goblin, or fruitstand, nothing is safe from its wrath.

Ettin Escapee: AC 16, touch 6, flatfooted 16; CMD 23; HP 65/43; melee 2 improvised clubs +8/+8/+3/+3 (1d8+6)

Hobgoblin Fugitives (3): AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10; CMD 15; HP 17/12; melee longsword +4 (1d8+2)

Goblin Fugitives (6): AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 14; CMD 12; HP 6/4; melee improvised club -2 (1d4)

DarkOrange denotes actual HP.

[rypt]

Eoli runs two fingers along the side of the thief's neck, feeling for a gap between the major muscles and thick tendons just above the hobgoblin's collarbone. Pressing the tip of his dagger between the ends of his fingers, he angles it blade-down and hilt-up, a quick thrust severing the hobgoblin's spine, killing him instantly.

He cleans his dagger as he had his sword, and is just beginning to search the thief for any concealed weapons when a small stone skips across the tiles beside him. Rising to his feet and stepping to the edge of the roof, he isn't immediately sure what to make of Kra-jak's whistle-- that is, until he follows the shifter's gesture to the sounds of battle carrying from the adjoining street.

As Kra-jak begins his careful advance, Eoli reaches out toward a hanging street-lamp, an unseen force drawing the lantern's supporting line into his hand. He gives the cable two quick, firm pulls, and satisfied with its strength, swings across the alley to the opposite rooftop. Dropping into a low a crouch as he lands, he slowly creeps forward until he is able to peer over the storefronts and into the street below. His eyes sweep once over the bloodied avenue, lingering for a moment on the massive ettin before turning back towards Kra-jak and Aluatra. Lips drawn into a thin line, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, he gives a slight shake of his head, unconvinced that this is a conflict in which they should be involving themselves.

Alright, I'm not entirely sure where we confronted the thief or why Eoli is in the street, but I'm imagining him swinging from bb21 to W21, and then moving up to ~W16. I don't see him joining this fight on his own, but if Kra-jak charges in there, Eoli isn't just going to let him die.

[Starbin]

Apologies this took so long to get back to - long weekend and all! Here we go. Sorry, but Kra-jak is probably a little more interested in the well-being of the town than the others, and has a little motivation to test himself in the chaos of this night ... if y'all decide to move on, so be it!

Kra-jak watched the tableau in front of him, eyes dispassionately scanning as the scene unfolded. While he had not been charged with maintaining the peace in this town, it seemed unconscionably cruel to leave the pseudo-innocent revelers to their doom due to unfortunate timing.

Grasping his spear, the shifter glanced back at Aluatra as he pointed to the melee ahead. With a nod, he sprinted forward, leaping past fleeing citizens and bystanders. Once he was within striking distance, he leveled his naginata and slashed at the closest goblin.

I may not be a smart man, but I know what a slaughter is!
Okay, move action to V14 (should take 35', Kra-jak's got 40')
Assuming none of the X's take a swipe at him (oh please, oh please!)
Attack Gobbo in V12: [roll0]
Damage, if any: [roll1]
Hopefully, if the other nearby gobbo's attack, my AOOs will whittle them down a bit!

EDIT: Of course, I forgot how much the die roller hates me ...

[Gorgon_Heap]

Figuring the murderer is best left forgottten, Sgt. Dell slides back over the stone rail with only a hesitant glance back toward Eoli before dropping down into a cluttered wagon. She uses her momentum to continue moving off the side and into the alley, but is caught up by - baskets of fresh fruit? - and stumbles, bolwing over a halfling family as she lands.

A moment later, as she apologizes, they're scrambling away and she realizes they had run into her. Then she hears the roaring and screaming. The sounds of battle and destruction ring out and she can't ignore it.

She brushes past fleeing revelers and takes a quick visual assessment of the scene. Kra-jack is engaing the prisoners, but from Dell's perspective the problem is the towering ettin, which is smashing property and civilians alike in its rage.

"Yeah," she confirms under her breath.


The whole round was just movement. She's making her way into the street toward the closest prisoner cart, but is not close to engaging goblins yet. Her focus next round will be the ettin unless the gobs try to stop or engage her.

[Nimrod]

Several of the goblin escapees turn to watch as Kra-Jak surges forth and brutally cuts down one of the goblins gleefully clubbing at the fallen Medani guard! Its partner screeches in fright, throwing down the board that it had been using before scrambling through the intersection, fleeing to the North... scattering the revelers that were too stupid to flee from the scene. Seeing another of their own cut down, all but one of the remaining goblins and hobgoblins make a hasty retreat, withdrawing down the street to the West! The one that remains continues to duel with one of two Medani guards still standing, steel ringing against steel as they engage again and again. It is difficult for you to see if either has an advantage, hidden behind the overturned wagon as they are. Your eyes do not linger there for long, however, as the ettin growls and slams the Medani guard once more with a large plank-club, bloodying him badly! The khorovar crumples to the ground in a heap while the ettin's second head focuses its ire upon a cowering bystander within an adjacent shop. There is a crash as the ettin rams its massive fist through the window, reaching in to paw about, looking for its next victim!

The street continues to clear out as you watch the scene unfold...



Map updated! (http://i1249.photobucket.com/albums/hh516/mad_gondsman/MAPS/Prison-Caravan-Escape-2_zps0c35c98a.jpg) Kra-Jak cuts down the goblin at V12. The goblin that was at T14 flees to V9, provoking an AoO from Kra-Jak if he wishes to attack.

Ettin Escapee: AC 16, touch 6, flatfooted 16; CMD 23; HP 65/43; melee 2 improvised clubs +8/+8/+3/+3 (1d8+6)

Hobgoblin Fugitives (3): AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10; CMD 15; HP 17/12; melee longsword +4 (1d8+2)

Goblin Fugitives (5): AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 14; CMD 12; HP 6/4; melee improvised club -2 (1d4)

DarkOrange denotes actual HP.

[Starbin]

With one of the goblins down, Kra-jak looked for the next target. One of the goblins sprinted away within reach of his spear, earning a casual thrust in his direction.
AOO: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Drawing the naginata back, the shifter monk spun, using momentum to keep him moving towards his next victim. While the two-headed ogre was the most dangerous threat, Kra-jak knew he would require assitance to take it down. For now, he would continue to thin the herd ... and perhaps garner additional help from the remaining guards.

Sliding forward, he reached around an overturned cart and attacked one of the hobgoblins engaged with such a guard.

Move Action to U11
Standard action to attack Hobgob at S9: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

EDIT: Good lord, I hope I can actually roll over 7 on an attack roll at some point!

[Gorgon_Heap]

Her first thought is to simply attack the thing, but Dell recalls similar instances with such giants during the war and they never quite went as she desired.

She decides to get in the thing's face - er, faces - before it kills any civilians. She runs out into the street and yanks herself up onto the front of the first cart. She stands up and spins her hammer in her grip. Now eye-to-eyes with the creature, but out of reach, she defiantly tosses her hair back. "Hey!" she shouts, her voice raw and cutting, "You're wrecking the party!"

[rypt]

"Damned fools!" Eoli mutters through gritted teeth as the sergeant charges out to join Kra-jak. With Martra's package safe in his pack, and the far-less-decisive shifter the only other person remaining in the alley, he considers, for the briefest of moments, leaving Dell and Kra-jak to die. What was one more battle, one more grave, one more day worth forgetting to an elf who had already endured so ma--

"Enough." Driving away any remaining doubt with one final growl, he rises to his feet with his bow at the ready. Sighting the lone goblin fleeing down the opposite alleyway, he knocks, draws and looses an arrow in a single fluid motion. No sooner is the arrow in the air than Eoli is as well. Stepping off the edge of the awning, he takes a loose line in hand and drops deftly to the street. Casting his bow aside, he draws his sword and begins a far less conspicuous approach towards the ettin's flank.

Swift Action: Activate the Justice judgement for a +1 profane bonus to attack for the remainder of the encounter.

Standard Action: Fire an arrow at the goblin at X6. The goblin's death grants Eoli a +2 profane bonus to AC due to the Spellkiller inquisition (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/base-classes/inquisitor/archetypes/paizo---inquisitor-archetypes/inquisitions/spellkiller-inquisition).

Attack: 25
Damage: 6

Move Action: Advance to U14. If there is anything that can serve as cover along the side of the street, he will stick to it.

Stealth (if appropriate, including -5 penalty for moving): 8

[Nimrod]

Kra-Jak cuts down another goblin before moving to the side of the wagon to engage the fugitive harrying the final remaining Medani guard. The hobgoblin is lean and the reddish fur of his arms is marked with dozens of symbols which may denote clans or conquests. Regardless, the bugger isn't going easily. His ears flick expressively as he bats Kra-Jak's strike away before leaping back and catching the Medani guard across the face with a brutal elbow! In spite of being outnumbered and possibly outmatched, the hobgoblin's eyes glitter maliciously... and a tusky smile forms on his lips. The bastard is enjoying this. As Kra-Jak aids one, Aluatra runs into the intersection to see if there is anything she can do for one of the fallen Medani guards. Accustomed to plying her skills on the battlefield, she doesn't even bat an eyelash as Eoli sends an arrow zipping over her head to claim another goblin life. The bodycount continues to rise...

"Hey! You're wrecking the party!" Dell calls out, challenging the Ettin. The monster stops rooting around in the shop window and withdraws his massive arm. The screaming from within the shop stops only to be picked up by others huddling within another storefront as he steps forward to engage the Cyran sergeant! The right hand brings a heavy plank around in a powerful backhanded swing which strikes her like a runaway lightningrail! Though bloodied, she manages to absorb the blow without falling off of her perch... a testament to her grit and determination. Such a shot would have flattened a lesser man - or woman.

Eoli slips forward, attempting to sneak up upon the two-headed giant, but it appears that two heads really are better than one. While one has its attention squarely upon Dell, the other sees the elf approach and lashes out, its makeshift club shattering an awning before narrowly missing him!


Map updated! (http://i1249.photobucket.com/albums/hh516/mad_gondsman/MAPS/Prison-Caravan-Escape-3_zps8d43030e.jpg) Dell takes 11 damage! I gave Eoli +2 to AC for cover, so the ettin missed!:smallwink:

Initiatives: Eoli, Kra-Jak, Aluatra, Ettin, Hobgoblin, Dell


Ettin Escapee: AC 16, touch 6, flatfooted 16; CMD 23; HP 65/43; melee 2 improvised clubs +8/+8/+3/+3 (1d8+6)

Hobgoblin Fugitives (1): AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 10; CMD 15; HP 17/12; melee longsword +4 (1d8+2)

Goblin Fugitives (3): AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 14; CMD 12; HP 6/4; melee improvised club -2 (1d4)

DarkOrange denotes actual HP.

[Gorgon_Heap]

The sergeant only realizes the precariousness of her perch when the giant swings the massive plank at her. Unable dive or take cover, she attempts to block the attack but moves too slowly.

She sees a white flash as the board connects with half her body, and the impact bends her over like a reed in the wind. Somehow she retains her feet and enough awareness to be mildly satisfied as the blank splits down the center - though not enough to dull its effectiveness.

She seeks her mental checklist, a common action of war vetarans accustomed to injuries. Arm broken? No. Shoulder dislocated? No. Cheek, jaw, skull? Throbbing but intact. Expensive custom-made breastplate? Still shiny.

She smiles through bloody lips and levels steely, hungy green eyes at her humongous opponent. Legs tensing, she leaps straight up, maul over her head, and brings it streaking down in a fury ...

Don't make me use a Hero Point ...
Power attack [roll0]
Crit [roll1]
Damage [roll2].

REROLL in OOC!!!!

Ok. A 20 is a hit.

[Starbin]

Kra-jak narrowed his eyes at the shear maliciousness of the hobgoblin. It was, of course, simply following it's nature ... too undisciplined to choose another path for itself. What it also failed to understand is how little time it would have left to consider alternative lifestyles.

Spinning the naginata, he thrust it towards the hobgoblin, then with a swift flex of his arms, brough it out and back towards the hobgoblin's midsection ...

Flurry of blows (full action)
Att 1: [roll0]
Att 2: [roll1]
Dam 1: [roll2]
Dam 1: [roll3] <- Whoops, that should be damage 2 ... hope that makes sense :smallsmile:

If it dies, Kra-jak will take a five foot step to T10

[rypt]

Diving under a massive, tree trunk-like arm, Eoli can feel the terrible force of the ettin's blow in the rattling of his teeth and in the splinters of wood that explode from the frame of the awning under which he'd been crouched only an instant before.

As the elf finds his footing, a whispered word slows the ettin's defenses, granting Eoli the moment he needs to charge his blade with electricity. He thrusts forward, missing wide, before pivoting to his right with a back-handed slash that fails to penetrate the monster's roughened hide.

Free action: 5-foot steep to T14

Free action: Expend a Hero Point to recover the Shocking Grasp spell.

Swift Action: Cast Litany of Sloth on the ettin. It cannot make any attacks of opportunity for one round.

Full round action: Full attack the ettin utilizing Spell Combat and Spellstrike with Shocking Grasp. Both attacks miss (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=14649991&postcount=23). Consequently, his sword is still holding the charge on Shocking Grasp.

[Nimrod]

A shrill, high-pitched whistle cuts through the sounds of the fleeing revelers, the raging ettin, and the steel clashing against steel as the Hobgoblin continues to engage the sole remaining Medani guardsman and Kra-Jak, the wily polearm-wielding shifter. What's left of the awning creaks as it tears away from the storefront, boards falling all around Eoli as his sword begins to crackle with power! He slows the ettin with an incantation, just a short moment, but it is more than enough for him to close the distance and strike! The ettin keeps one set of eyes on the elf, however, and snaps out of its stupor just in time to jab out with one of its clubs, the thrust keeping Eoli from getting too close...

There is a clang of sword on sword or sword on naginata as the hobgoblin spins in a flashy maneuver, his sword slicing through the white and blue tabard marking his affiliation with House Medani. The khorovar sucks in air through his teeth as the sword skips across his mail shirt, but he doesn't fall back. Instead, he rushes forward, tying up the hobgoblin's sword with his own! It is just enough to keep the goblinoid's sword occupied... so that he's helpless to defend Kra-Jak's thrust as it pierces his side! The dying hobgoblin, blood thick on his lips sneers at the Medani guard... until the guard plants his boot in the hobgoblin's chest and kicks him to the ground. He turns to nod his thanks to Kra-Jak before looking to the ruined wagons and his fallen comrades. His blue eyes burn behind the face-plate of his helm as he surveys the carnage...

As Dell staggers back from the heavy blow, Aluatra springs from where she tends to a fallen guardsman and rushes to her aid! "Vita Mortiis Careo!" she shouts, reaching for Dell... and mends her wounds with a touch and a flash of light! The ettin continues its attack, the blows coming at angles one would not expect from such a big, dumb-looking brute! If it had proper weapons, you might be in trouble... or more trouble than you are in right now. The wagon rocks beneath Dell's feet as its makeshift club slams where she once stood. A second later, the contents of a wheelbarrow full of fruit goes flying from the force of another strike, splattering the elf with pulp as he evades the heavy-handed blow! The ettin, its body riddled with black-fletching from the Medani's crossbows, roars again and again with every strike, though they fail to connect with any of you...

Then Dell connects with a blow that repays the bloodied ettin for the pain that he visited upon her and then some! Slamming her maul square atop the closest head, the two-headed giant staggers underneath the blow! Black blood begins pouring down over eyes still rolling in its thick-as-a-rock skull. Something lands upon the pavement at Eoli's feet with a wet smack... the ettin's tongue, severed when the Cyran sergeant's heavy strike cut the ettin's howl short.

If you can just hold out a little while longer, the Watch will arrive and help you put this monster down. But then again, why share the glory?


Map updated! (http://i1249.photobucket.com/albums/hh516/mad_gondsman/MAPS/Prison-Caravan-Escape-4_zps01fa17a4.jpg) Dell is healed for 13 hit points! She also deals 15 damage to the wounded ettin. Thanks for being patient with this update, everyone.

Initiatives: Eoli, Kra-Jak, Aluatra, Ettin, Hobgoblin, Dell

Ettin Escapee: AC 16, touch 6, flatfooted 16; CMD 23; HP 65/28; melee 2 improvised clubs +8/+8/+3/+3 (1d8+6)

[Starbin]

Having ended the hobgoblin's life, Kra-jak's eyes met the guards and they shared a nod of mutual respect, before the carnage and the roar of the ettin pulled both of their attentions elsewhere. Eyeing the top of the beast's head above the cart, where Dell stood swinging her mighty hammer, Kra-jak nodded to himself and turned to the west. Stretching his animal-like sinews, the shifter sprinted towards the cart to the west. At the last moment, he planted the metal-shod end of his naginata into the cobbled stone as he bunched his legs, then sprang upward, using his spear as a pole of sorts. Flinging himself up to the top edge of the cart, he reversed his momentum and flipped back off the top towards the south, clearing the corners of both carts before tucking into a roll and landing behind the ettin, still facing away. With a whirling strike, he spun to face the ettin and brought his naginata screaming down towards the giant's flank, eyes bright with focus and ferver.

Acrobatics check (you said DC 14?) to leap up and over the carts and move to engage the ettin: [roll0]
Moving from T10 to Q10 (jump off point) to P14.
Flanking the Ettin with Eoli (+2), single attack (using Perfect Strike to increase chance of success): [roll1] or [roll2]
Dam, if necessary: [roll3]

Go Team John Woo!

EDIT: Using a Hero Point to add +4 to Acrobatics check ... should have know I wouldn't actually be able to roll a 4! :smallsmile:

[rypt]

With one of its head staggered by Dell's thunderous blow and the other forced to confront a new foe in Kra-jak, Eoli seizes upon a rare opening in the ettin's defenses. Closing his eyes as he incants a word of power, the former Cyran assassin conjures in his a mind a vision of the battlefield free of all distractions. Here, there are no prison carts, no fallen guards or goblin captives, not even Kra-jak or the sergeant. Here, frozen in time, Eoli sees only himself, the ettin, and a single perfect strike.

Swift Action: Eoli will expend a point from his arcane pool to grant his sword a +1 enhancement bonus to attack and damage for one minute.

Full round action: Eoli will utilize his Spell Combat ability to cast True Strike before making an attack. He will incur a -3 penalty to the attack roll to grant himself a +3 bonus on his Concentration check to cast the spell defensively. His sword still holds the charge on Shocking Grasp from the previous round.

Concentration check: 28

Attack: 33
Total Damage: 21 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=14702164&postcount=25)

[Gorgon_Heap]

Alternately ducking and stepping back from the wild swings of the giant, the great planks of wood whooshing through the air, Dell tries to maintain the strong demeanor she's put up for the people she's recently met and unfortunatley been forced to work with.

She's momentarily surprised by Aluatra's sudden godly healing, but she'd experiened such things back in the war and knew splitting her concentration would only be a detriment.

The elf, seemingly from nowhere, moves forward and strikes the ettin with uncanny accuracy and a crackling sazzle of electrical magic. Unsure how badly hurt the monster is but, unwilling to simply accept its certain demise, she drops her hammer to the very bottom of the grip and uses the momentum she'd already built up to bring along another massive swing at the ettin's upper body ...

Attack [roll0]
Crit [roll1]
Damage [roll2]

[Nimrod]

THOOM! THOOM! THOOM!

The ettin's clubs strike the hull of the elemental-drawn prison-wagon again and again, resonating through the streets like a war drum! Dell dances this way and that, avoiding several close calls as the dazed and bloodied ettin tries to repay her for splitting one of its heads open. The one head's eyes are still rolling in its skull, its face covered in a gruesome mask of blood, as Kra-Jak vaults over the wagon in a dazzling acrobatic maneuver, landing at the storefront just behind the giant. Presented with a perfect window of opportunity, he turns and brutally lances the raging monster, driving his spear deep into its exposed flank! The ettin screams, both of its heads tossing in pain as it turns, slinging black blood across the storefronts as focuses its attention on the latest threat. It commits a fatal error in doing so, however...

A clap of thunder sounds as Eoli drives his enspelled sword into the ettin's spine, causing the 18' foot tall monster to convulse uncontrollably as electricity leaps all about its massive frame! Shadows dance wildly through the square, the frightened faces behind the windows of the nearby storefront lit with flashes of blue-white light. When the spell finally plays itself out, smoke rises from the ettin's shoulders and a nauseating smell of burnt flesh fills the area. Yet the ettin still teeters on its feet...

CRACK! Dell's maul connects with the ettin's chest like a charging gorgon, knocking it backwards to land against a poor baker's shop, its bulk crushing the door, shattering another window, and bringing down part of the stone wall around it, eliciting a fresh chorus of screams from within! Eoli is forced to leap away to avoid being crushed by the monster's lifeless body... but finally, with a sound like a five-ton sack of potatoes, it comes to a rest, its black blood running thick through the gutters.

With the battle over, you glance around, noting the frightened faces gazing down at you from the upper levels. After such a ruckus, the silence sounds strange to your ears. Then the first wave of revelers emerge from their hiding places to peek out to make sure that the threat has been subdued.

Aluatra immediately gets to work, doing what she can to tend to the fallen Medani guardsmen as the shrill whistles of the Watch grow louder by the second.

"Who... are you?" the only standing Medani soldier asks incredulously, looking at the four of you with something approaching awe...



Nice job! That was exceptionally well written and well-played. And it was just the BEGINNING! :smallbiggrin: Unless you feel like taking on the Watch, it looks like you guys will finally get a break from the action. The other goblin escapees are nowhere to be seen and the people that are coming out don't look very threatening.

I'll tally up XP for the encounter and pass it on to you soon. I'll throw in a nice bonus for the great encounters so far!

[Starbin]

Having felled the beast, Kra-jak stepped forward to his companions, bowing low to them. "Well done, comrades. Your skill and timing were excellent. I recommend we ensure order is restored before completing our question."

When asked for their identities from the guards, Kra-jak simply shrugs. "Citizens who wished to help, although we are also members of the Diggers Union."

Turning to Aluatra, he bowed his head slightly. "What can I do to aid your efforts?"

[Gorgon_Heap]

Breathing hard, Dell sets her hammer aside and nods to Aluatra in thanks. She unstoppers her waterskin and liberally splashes her head, and then squeezes blood and gunk from her hair.

As she shakes it out you spy an old, ragged lattice of pale scars on the right side of her forehead.

As Kra-jak talks to the Medani, Dell shakes her head in annoyance. "They aren't paying us extra for advertising," she mutters.

She stands next to the elf. "Much as I prefer real combat to bar fights, and I know I needed the exercise, but we have a contract to fulfill. We're done here, right?" She examines the damage and shocked civilians. "These folks are all right and the Medani can triage their own."

[rypt]

Eoli groans as he picks himself up off the ground, glancing towards Dell with an expression that is both grin and grimace.

More than willing to let to Kra-jak field the Medani's questions, Eoli checks that the package is secure before turning to survey the ruined avenue and observe Aluatra's treatment of the wounded.

"We're done here, right?" the sergeant asks moments later. If she was expecting an answer from Eoli, however, she does not get one, as he is already a carriage's length towards the alleyway by the time she's done. At first it seems as though he might be leaving on his own, that is until he stops besides one of the growing number of onlookers, a young man clutching something under his arm.

That something is Eoli's bow.

The enthralled teenager does not seem to notice Eoli until he is already upon him, stepping from the shadows of the adjacent storefront. The first thing he notices is the elf's outstretched hand, palm open and expectant. He follows the arm up to a narrow shoulder, a slender body, draped with simple robes, torn and stained with filth. Further up, and he is met by Eoli's unpleasant gaze, cold and narrowed eyes half-hidden by silver hair matted with a mixture of blood and sweat. He tries to look away, only to notice the crimson-stained blade the elf holds in his other hand.

"H-h-h-here you are, sir," the young man manages between panicked breaths. "I-I f-f-found it in the--"

Without waiting for him to finish, Eoli pulls the bow from his hands, slips it onto his shoulder and starts back the way he came. As he walks, he works a simple spell, and the stains on his robes begin to fade. Likewise, the blood in his hair and on his sword gradually disappear until the only signs of what had happened are the tears in his clothes and the tiredness in his eyes.

"I need a drink," he mutters as he rejoins the group.

[Starbin]

Seeing that Aluatra did not require any additional help (and assuming that the Medani don't have any additional questions), Kra-jak returned to the others. "Are we ready to return?"

[Nimrod]

More and more frightened faces appear in the streets, their curiosity winning out over any apprehensions that they might have about entering an area where a number of fugitives made a violent and bloody escape. The sole standing Medani guardsman lowers the tip of his sword to the ground and scratches at his jaw at Kra-Jack's response.

"Diggers Union... huh," he says, a look of confusion clouding his khorovar features. He turns around, looking at the battered wagons and his fallen comrades, releasing a weighty sigh as if having trouble processing the scene. The angry red lanterns hanging down the sides of the busted storefronts glow in spite of their tattered state, the enchantments persisting through the fracas. Some of the workers that were trapped within the nearby shops rush to put some distance between themselves and the ettin bleeding out on the stone, although it is obvious that the thing will not rise again. The fear that the monster inspired might be hard for them to shake in the days to come.

Aluatra works furiously, running from one fallen Medani escort to the next, not answering questions to move on. Her hands move quickly across their bodies, diagnosing their injuries and stabilizing them where she can... and due to her quick action, she saves many of the fallen men.

"Grab him, bring him over here. You, Medani... pull your friend near..." she commands, not looking up from a fellow that the ettin nearly clubbed to death. With a sharp word and a subtle gesture, his shallow, rapid breathing returns to something normal and color begins to return to his features.

"I thought you guys... dug up relics or something," the guardsman says, dragging his unconscious and bloodied comrade closer as the shifter, Aluatra, commanded. He watches her work as the others express their desire to move on.

"Did... you learn this in the war?" he asks dumbfoundedly, trying to assist where he can. The shrill whistling is closer now, and glancing down the street, you can see a squad of Sharn's finest rounding the corner, clad in green lacquered armors and polished halberds dancing in the lantern lights. A dwarf barrels along before them all, his clean-shaven cheeks swelling comically as he sounds the call to arms... to the threat that you neutralized.


OOC: Not sure if you guys would leave Aluatra behind to dodge an encounter with the watch. I owe you guys a number of timely updates after the extended break, so I'll be sure to get another one up as soon as you've all weighed in. :smallredface:

[Starbin]

Kra-jak simple shrugged. "To be a Digger does not excuse one from responsibility. Now if you'll excuse me, sir, we should assist my companion there." Moving to help Aluatra, Kra-jak would provide whatever assistance was necessary, to include transporting the injured or directing others to help. He will stay only as long as feasible, but knows the others wish to complete their task.

[rypt]

"...make it two," Eoli grumbles. As a resident of High Walls, the elf has had some less-than-positive experiences with the Sharn Watch, and he is none too pleased to see their patrol come charging around the corner. It certainly comes as no surprise to him that they are late.

Paying little attention to the dumbfounded Medani, he steps over and crouches down beside Aluatra. "You've done enough, and Martra's waiting. The capes will take it from here."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Sgt. Dell waits only until Eoli grumbles about their employer waiting before deciding to take the lead in evacuating. She strikes a heroic pose, giant hammer slung over her shoulder, and winks at some of the horrified onlookers.

She glances back toward the approaching watch and laughs, turning and walking away.

[Nimrod]

Aluatra works quickly, depleting the last of her healing reserves as Kra-Jak and the Medani guard drag the final downed warriors to her. As the last one stabilizes, she wipes at her leonine features with the back of a clawed hand and looks dazedly at the scattered soldiers. Although she managed to save many, there are some that she was not.

"You've done enough, and Martra's waiting. The capes will take it from here," Eoli says, crouching by her side. His words seem to snap her back to reality and she takes a deep breath before nodding in agreement and rising to her feet... reaching out to steady herself by placing a hand on his shoulder. With a final look towards the Medani men, she nods and follows the rest of you as the Watch barrels closer.

The bystanders and lookers-on part before you as you withdraw, not quite sure what to make of your violent intervention or Dell's performance. A chorus of murmurs and quiet inquiries dotted with sharp, shrill whistle blasts follow you as you slip away into the connecting streets, cutting this way and that as the revelers and parade watchers crowd the thoroughfares to get a better look at what has transpired. Glancing over your shoulder you see the polished heads of the Watch's halberds dancing above their heads as the authorities attempt to catch up with you... though they fall farther behind by the moment! You dodge between wagons, tents, and towers, using the madness of the Bazaar district to make your getaway... and before long you are making your way across one of the many windswept bridges that crosses to Menthis Plateau... and Morgrave University.

You step upon one of the wide lifts, slipping through the throng of scholars and students that seem to orbit Dalannan Tower. As the lift begins its smooth ascent, you look over the rail to the bridges below, the lanterns that dot them appearing like stars in the nighttime sky upon the black of the gorges that separate the plateaus. You squint into the wind, scanning the byways for any sign of persistent watchmen... but you see none.

You each earn 800 xp for your gallant rescue! As always, I hate to rush you guys. I'll pause briefly here if you'd like to roleplay anything out as you ride the lifts to Upper Menthis... though not quite to the top. Your destination is within the Dezina Museum of Antiquities' lower levels, where the vaults lie. Matron Martra may be there, extorting gold from the curators for the services of her lackeys (i.e. you all). It will be well into the evening, but there is always someone toiling away there and she never seems to sleep.

I'll update again within the next day or so if you've nothing else to add!

[Gorgon_Heap]

Watching the buildings sink and city slowly grow to encapsulate much of the horizon, Dell, runs her fingers through hair to allow it try dry in the wind.

"You know," she says with a winning smile, the first time her beauty shines through her melancholy, "I'm glad I got up this morning."




Move us along, ol' boy!

[Starbin]

Kra-jak stood stoicly on the lift, keeping an eye on Aluatra. The healings she had provided seemed to have wore her out, and he didn't want her to fall over the edge.

At Dell's comment, he simply nodded, looking at solemnly. In perfect deadpan delivery, he intoned, "It certainly beats the alternative."

Press on, Brother Nimrod, press on!

[rypt]

A sidelong glance is Eoli's only acknowledgement of Dell's comment. As is apparently his way, the elf says nothing as the lift ascends.

Onwards and upwards!

Just for future notice, should there come a time when we all go our separate ways for the evening, there is a small scene I'd like to play out while Eoli is by himself.

[Nimrod]

You step off of the lift before you reach the summit of Dalannan Tower, leaving the scholars, students, and erudite wannabes behind in favor of roads less traveled. You make your way around the tower to an area where crates are being drawn up via eldritch cords of energy which glow brightly in the night and a crowd of stoop-shouldered workers work to move them into the warehouses here for cataloging and storage. You duck through one door, making your way through the rows and rows of crates, some of them cracked open by curators to reveal idols, pottery, and artwork from Aerenal, Argonnesen, and Xen'drik. You pass many but few pay you any mind as you make your way to the back of the warehouse. There is a loud crash, followed by a long string of curses... which can only belong to Matron Martra.

You approach to find a few workers surrounding a shattered crate, its contents spilled out atop straw and padding. Several strange-shaped plates marked with hundreds of strange symbols lay atop the mess... and while nothing appears to be damage, that does not calm the ire of your demanding taskmaster.

"Good men died to get these to us and here you cretins are, throwing it around like it's your Sovereigns-damned laundry! If I find so much as a scratch on these artifacts, I'm going to strip you, flog you until you're bloody, and hang you from your heels over the Hilt!"

Once a smuggler that ran supplies for Breland during the War, the woman known as Matron Martra is a tough-as-nails former sailor that was forced to find other employment once hostilities ceased and Breland pared down the size of its navy. Her white hair is cut short to prevent it from being a liability in a fight and though she is into her middle years, she still strikes an imposing figure in her plished black leather breastplate and matching knee-high boots. Although short of stature and slight of build, you know from her scars and sheer grit that she's not to be taken lightly. The saber belted on her hip has seen more than its share of battle but it isn't likely that she would even need it against this bunch. As you approach, she finishes growling a string of expletives before impatiently waving you over...

"So... how'd it go?" she asks gruffly, wasting no time with idle banter. She stares up at each of you with a hard, green-eyed stare, awaiting your report.

[Starbin]

Kra-jak waited, letting Dell or Eoli speak, since they actually had the item the group had been charged with collecting. Besides, she seemed in as foul a mood as usual, and he didn't feel like collecting a tongue lashing for their slight detour.

Even if it did help the innocents and potentially bring honor and acclaim to the Union.

[rypt]

"Your man 'Jondo' is dead," Eoli states flatly. "One of Darguun's sharpest knives found him before we did." At this, he looks to Dell, a nod towards Martra signalling the sergeant to produce the thief's distinctive blade. "Ran us through the whole damned bazaar before we finally caught up to him." As the elf continues, he pulls his pack around his shoulder and removes the package, stepping forward to hand it to their employer. "Whatever this is, I am glad to be rid of it."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Dell's attention is wandering, and when called upon starts as if just remembering where she is. She quickly produces the dagger and hands it to Martra. "A souvenir. It's authentic," she says proudly. "The blood, too."

[Nimrod]

Matron Martra's anger at the bungling workers melts away upon news of Jondo's death, though the look upon her face remains as solemn as ever. She accepts the package with a sigh though she declines to take the byeshk dagger from Dell.

"That's damned poor news," she says, staring down at the box. "He was a good man to know, but he knew the risks of this sort of work. Glad you all made it back in one piece, though," she says gruffly. You wonder briefly if she honestly cares, but then she qualifies her statement. "You do good work. I'd hate to lose you."

She opens the box and clicks her tongue, pulling out what appears to be... a long tassel of some sort? Black and braided, it is quite obviously old. Then your eyes follow along the length of the object... and you realize that it is a scalp! Most likely hobgoblin from the coarse hair. Perhaps a war trophy from a significant battle or from some old Dhakaani chieftain? It might seem silly that the agents of Darguun would die for such a thing, but such is their national pride. Perhaps five nations tearing each other apart for a crown isn't so different...

With a sigh, she drops the object back into the box and snaps it shut before reaching behind her back and withdrawing a heavy-looking purse. With a nod, she tosses it to Eoli to catch.

"I can always count on you," she says. "I wish I had a few more like you. There's a little extra in there. Take some time off and enjoy it." There is another clatter and she looks around you, glaring at the bunglers...

From the weight of the purse, Eoli can tell that there is a nice bonus in there... but none of you will be retiring anytime soon.


You each earn 50gp for returning the artifact. Not bad for a day's work, but it's not exactly a big payday. They never are, though it beats working for a living? I'll pause in case there's anything you'd like to play out, here.

[Starbin]

Kra-jak bowed his head to the Matron in thanks, then followed the others out. Bidding his companions good night, he went to the contemplative room to meditate for a bit before retiring to his room. Once there, he would practice his forms for a bit, bathe, then sleep.

Best to get an early start on the day ...

[rypt]

Eoli nods approvingly at the weight of the purse. "You know where to find us," he says as he turns to leave.

After splitting Martra's payment amongst his companions, Eoli crosses over to Tavick's Landing, and then makes his way down to the Lower City. His apartment in High Walls is little more than a spare room above the Korrels' bakery, and he steps quietly up the rickety stairs so as not to wake the young couple or their infant daughter. Once inside, he drops his coin purse onto the tabletop before reaching underneath to grab a small key tucked away on a hidden ledge. Moving over to the far wall, he bends down and begins to feel along the floorboards. A single knotted plank lifts up as he presses down on the opposite end, and from the space underneath, he removes a small metal box. After taking a moment to verify the integrity of the lock, he takes the box back to the table, opens it with the key, and empties it of its contest. Inside are a half-dozen pocket-sized leather folios, a single piece of folded paper, and a stack of empty envelopes.

Setting the folios aside, Eoli unfolds the sheet of parchment and places it on the table to his left. To his right, he places the stack of envelopes, and in the space between, he empties the pouch of Martra's coin. With everything in place, he begins to fill the envelopes with various amounts of currency, using the names and numbers listed on the sheet as a guide. He is very careful to keep the envelopes in order, for while most end up with only a few sovereigns, a handful are filled with a galifar or more.

It takes him less than ten minutes to fill twenty envelopes -- corresponding to less than a quarter of the names listed on the sheet -- and once he's finished, he refolds the piece of paper, collects the extra envelopes and untouched folios, and returns them all to the box. He locks the box, then tests the lock, then returns both the box and the key to their respective hiding places. After gathering the filled envelopes and remaining coin, he swaps his earth-toned vest for a hooded black cloak, and it's out the door and down the stairs, just as quietly as he'd come up.

At this hour, the streets are mostly empty, but Eoli doesn't leave anything to chance. Drawing his hood and keeping to the shadows, he takes side-alleys where ever possible, and uses less direct routes to avoid the more heavily-trafficked and better-lit streets.

Kreel...............0.7.0.

His first stop is the Kreel house -- seven sovereigns for Arnan to settle his debt with old man Webb. Eoli slides the envelope under the front door.

Coyle...............0.4.8.

Next is Mirrie Coyle -- two sovereigns for her son for a fresh set of school clothes, the rest to get their leaky roof repaired. Mirrie's brother Fenton is smoking his pipe on the front steps when Eoli pads by, so he drops the envelopes through a window in the back.

Briarfell...........1.9.0.

Saidi Briarfell recently gave birth to triplets. "Arawai's bounty," the neighbors called it, but Saidi's husband barely makes enough money to support their family as it is. One galifar and nine sovereigns to help them cover the bills for the next month. Eoli tucks the envelope into one of the pockets in the apron that Dodrick hangs out to dry every night.

Haeltar.............0.3.0.
Lorhalien...........0.8.6.
...
Sevenson............1.0.0.

So it goes for the better part of two hours, on this night as it has on dozens past. Twenty deserving families, twenty anonymous gifts. Zero witnesses.

In total, Eoli will give out half of the 50g he received from Martra.

[Nimrod]

No one stops you as you part ways and return to your beds. No inquisitives. No watchmen. No Medani diplomats. No goblins. Whether you take it to heart or not, you performed admirably against both the Dhakaani assassin and the raging ettin, most likely sparing a dozen or more lives. Regardless of your feelings of Brelanders, they were just innocent folk that were in the wrong place in the wrong time. Aluatra says as much as you leave Matron Martra, thanking the rest of you for sticking around and helping, whether it was for them or for her.

"Maybe some good will come back our way?" Aluatra chuckles as you say your farewells for the night and head off on your separate paths. If anyone is keeping track, facing down an blood-thirsty two-headed giant has to beat the hell out of helping old ladies across the street, right?

Figuring you deserve a day off, you get plenty of rest, lay low and enjoy your day, maybe even taking part in some of the festivities, yourself. Things are rowdy, but not too bad. The next morning, however, you haven't even had breakfast yet and you already see people a little too deep into their cups, making you wonder if they started early or never stopped. As Wildnight draws nearer, the raucous revelers and debauchers grow... well... wilder. As you walk the streets of Sharn, going about your business and your errands, stepping over drunks and doing your best to avoid the many parades, you begin to wonder if the city will survive the holiday. You also begin to notice the same flyer posted here and there again as you pass through the crowded streets. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you push your way through rabble to get a better look. You find that the flyer is a WANTED poster with profile sketches of six nasty-looking individuals. You examine the block of text at the bottom of the flyer, scanning for the pertinent details. "Fugitives... Armed and extremely dangerous... do not confront... information... will lead to the recapture..."

You don't even have to read the rest. After just a few lines, you already know where this is going. These six dangerous fugitives were sprung last night in the midst of a bloody fight from a prison caravan bound for Wroat!

"Please contact the House Medani Warning Guild if you have any information regarding the whereabouts or activities of these criminals," the final sentence reads.

This is heavy upon your mind as you head to the nearest Sivis messages station to check your messages for any news from Matron Martra about your next job. There is nothing from her... but you do find one waiting for you from Aluatra. "Drinks at the Drunken Dragon tonight? We have a lot to talk about," she writes.

http://i1249.photobucket.com/albums/hh516/mad_gondsman/Sharn/WANTED_zps7376205e.jpg

[Starbin]

Kra-jak had nodded to Aluatra, knowing that her words rang with a modicum of truth. As others went their various ways, the monk had spent the evening with a meditative exercise routine, a bath and sleep.

The next morning, he arose at dawn, seeking out the rising sign and an early start to the day. After a few stretching routines, he went downstairs for breakfast, noting the amount of bleary-eyed souls who stank of sweat, mead ... and odors unique to a certain type of celebration. He ignored most of them, eating and drinking his water in silence before finally leaving as the morning sun began to crest the upper levels down to the tavern. As he walked through the streets, he kept to the side, avoiding both the staggering drunks and comatose revelers with equal ease and speed. Today, he was headed towards the library, eager to search for knowledge of the Brotherhood of the Serpent. He had precious little to go on, but the knowledge centers of Sharn were supposed to be among the best in the world. Perhaps at the University he would find answers ... or at least clues.

Before he could find a lift to the middle levels, Kra-jak found his eyes drawn to the numerous posters stuck to the walls and posts along the streets. Many passers-by would stop and comment on the papers, often gasping in fear and concern. Approaching a notice board, Kra-jak saw that it was a wanted poster ... and the six fugitives were escapees from last nights prison caravan!

Blinking at the strange coincidence of it all, Kra-jak slipped to the nearest messaging station to see of Matron Marta had called for them, his quest for the library temporarily forgotten. While there were no notes from the Diggers, there was one from Aluatra requesting the group meet for dinner at the Drunken Dragon. Sighing inwardly, Kra-jak penned a quick response back, indicating he would be there.

Returning to the streets, Kra-jak found one of the wanted posters flying loosely through the street and snatched it from the air. Studying the faces, he resolved to recognize them should he run into one of these fiends before the Watch found them.

Tucking the paper into his pouch, Kra-jak continued along, looking for ways to reach the University library ... and any fugitives that might cross his path.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Sgt. Dell takes her gold and, nodding to the others offhandedly, walks out into the early evening air with a song in her heart.

Five minutes later, having walked past only a few huge balconies, she's gazing miserably out over the bustling city, the thrill and adrenaline of combat long forgotten. Even the magical healing provided by the shifter have deprived her of the pain and soreness of that thrilling fight with the ettin.

Dell breathes in the damp air slowly, her mind slowly searching for a useful memory ... but no. She has nowhere in particular to go. Nobody waiting for her. No orders to fulfill and no routine to keep her occupied.

With the gold sitting heavily at her belt, she turns grimly and sets about once again distracting herself through a night. Taking advantage of her location, she takes a lift straight down to Firelight, where she visits one of her regular bordellos to have a particular itch scratched.

Two hours later, relaxed and fed, Dell arrives in Clifftop and wanders into and out of several regular stops, hoping to find a good game of chance or – even better – a brawl. She settles for Bounder with several barely-trustworthy acquaintances, a never-ending round of cheap whiskey, and somehow awakens a sweaty, stinking mess on a bench at the Clifftop Adventurer’s Guild near midday.

Following a thick beer, greasy breakfast, and hot bath, Dell once again wanders onto the Sharn streets, anxious and angry, but soon sees something is afoot and Aluatra wishes to meet. She sighs deeply and knows she’ll go for want of anything else to do.

[rypt]

Even by the standards of High Walls, the Three Cups Inn is fairly considered to be one of the wildest taverns in all of the Lower City. As an establishment that has become popular amongst members of the militant fringe of the Cyran refugee community, many of the Three Cups' patrons are warriors without a war, and those looking for a fight are bound to find one here.

It is not a bell past midday when Eoli enters, and there is already a manic tension in the air, an unstable edge that promises blood before the day's Wildnight celebrations are over. Keeping his head down as he shoulders through the crowd, the elf slowly makes his way towards a familiar corner of the bar. Unsurprisingly, Little Lorrik -- the mountain of a half-orc working behind the counter -- is already waiting for him when gets there, with a glass of wormwood absinthe in one hand, and a crooked, toothy smile breaking across his face. "You must be lost," the barkeep chuckles as he slides the glass across the bartop.

Eoli catches his drink without missing a beat, but his eyes remain focused on the Lorrik, never quite certain how the barman always seems to know exactly when he's coming. With a defeated sigh, he raises the glass and takes its contents in a single swig, grimacing as he breathes the fire in his throat through his teeth. He sets the glass upside down atop the bar, and beside it, he places a small pouch of coin, far more than would be needed to cover even a week's worth of heavy drinking.

Lorrik raises a curious eyebrow and laughs again. "A wild night indeed."

The barkeep reaches for the coin then, but just as the tips of his fingers draw close, Eoli lifts his empty glass and drops it down on top of the purse. He hold it there with one hand, while with the other, he draws a worn sheet of parchment from his vest -- one of the WANTED poster he had passed on his way to the Sivis station. "If any one of them passes through our gates," he says, handing the poster over to Lorrik, "I want to know about it."

The half-orc takes a moment to study each of the six portraits in turn before nodding his agreement. When he looks up, however, Eoli is already gone.

I'm not entirely sure what fair payment would be for something like this, but let's say Eoli pays Lorrik 50gp?

Also, in case it wasn't obvious, I'm imagining that Lorrik (secretly) possesses the Mark of Finding. If you would rather we not take that kind of liberty with NPCs, I don't mind at all.

[Nimrod]

The Drunken Dragon, one of the most popular watering holes of Clifftop, is as loud and rowdy as ever. Already, one table lay in splinters after the ogre bouncer, Muggs, was forced to pummel a Karrn and a Thrane when they ignored his cease and desist of their own pummelings. It did little to dampen the spirits of the evening, however, as there are adventurers and veterans aplenty that apparently enjoy a sound thrashing of both Karrns and Thranes...

Dell finds the auburn-haired shifter at a small table near the door, the shifter gripping her mug in both hands while looking at the room as if something heavy is weighing on her mind. Her wide, expressive, amber eyes glow in the soft yellow lantern-light... and it doesn't take a kalashtar to see that she's got something heavy weighing on her mind.

"So I suppose you've seen the posters?" she asks when Dell arrives, getting straight to the point. While it might be a tad inconvenient at times, Aluatra's compassion and drive to help others has saved more people than anyone can count during the war, and she's patched the three of you up on more than one occasion. The unspoken question that you know to be in the shifter's mind isn't whether you should get involved, but when...

Bah, I had planned to update more tonight but it's late and my laptop battery is about to go dry. If you care to join Dell and Aluatra at the Drunken Dragon, feel free. If not, I will do my best to respond to Eoli and Kra-Jak's situations tomorrow!

Also, I don't mind your taking small liberties with the surrounding and wallflower-type NPCs if it brings more life to the setting. A half-orc contact or war-buddy is absolutely fine. You guys are pros at this, so I don't foresee anyone writing anything too outrageous. :)

"Boranel, ol' pal! What's crappenin?!"

[Gorgon_Heap]

The sergeant haphazardly dropped her hammer on the floor and slumpt into a seat near the shifter woman. Waving imperiously at a server, she waited for another thick beer to arrive as she closed her eyes and tried to stop the room from spinning.

"Yuh?" she half-grunts to Aluatra's question. "Yeah, though I didn't see anything about a reward." She impatiently snatches the mug as the server returns and gulps greedily. Unless you count making some Dragonmarked hirelings look like pissants.

She grins, and seems just a little happier as the others arrive.

[Nimrod]

Aluatra matches Dell's grin, though hers is a bit... toothier. As the others arrive, she smooths her wild mane of hair as if the act makes her look more presentable. Truth be told, shifters always seem to look as if they just came in from a hunt. The way her cat-like eyes flash in the dim lighting would be unsettling if you didn't know Aluatra for the softhearted do-gooder that she is.

"No... it doesn't say, I suppose," she says with a sigh. She steeples her hands over her drink and looks to one of the others for some sort of moral support.

[Starbin]

Kra-jak approached the table and found the others gathered. He nodded in greeting, catching the lasts bits of the conversation. "Are you talking about the escaped fugitives from last night? Have we been tasked to recapture them, or are they simply a diversionary topic of discussion?". Sitting down, the monk ordered a water, or juice, and waited patiently, his blue eyes on his companions. Sitting next to Aluatra, the other Eoli and Dell were struck again by the difference in personalities between the two shifters - where the healer was passionate and wore her emotions openly, Kraft-jak was unnaturally reserved ... almost disturbingly so. At least he was competent, if not more than a little stiff.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Dell gulps again and frowns as she pulls a dripping forelock from her tankard. She sticks the foamy strands in her mouth and sucks on them. "Nah. Just wondering if it was something we'd get paid for. Good deeds don't pay the bills."

[rypt]

Eoli approaches the rest of the group not from the side of their table that faces the door, but from the side of their table that faces the bar. He holds a glass of dark ale in one hand, a shorter glass of a much stronger drink in the other, and as he steps past a table of hazy-eyed halflings, he hooks his foot behind a leg of one of their unused chairs and slides it over to join the rest of his companions. He sits down without a word of greeting or inquiry, the looks on the faces of both Dell and Aluatra giving him a pretty good sense of what he's missed.

[Gorgon_Heap]

With a slirk, Dell uses one finger to flip the hair from her mouth and she gives Eoli a sour look. She turns to Aluatra. "You going to suggest we go round these people up now? I admit I can think of a few benefits, but we're not exactly inquisitives."

She hefts her mug and is comically surprised that nothing comes out. She sighs and leans her chair back, putting weight on the butt of her hammer, swings her long legs up, crossing her ankles and plopping her boots on the table with a satisfied thump.

She waves the mug meaningfully at the serving girl.

[rypt]

With Dell's question seeming to affirm his earlier presumption, Eoli sighs and empties his smaller glass before taking a long, heavy draught from the taller one.

[Starbin]

Kra-jak glanced between Eoli and Dell, having learned that they were rarely interested in risking their lives for philanthropic reasons. They seemed to be mercenaries, through and through. Looking at Aluatra, he knew that her enormous heart would weigh in, and drive her opinion on this matter.

He leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Any reward is inconsequential to me ... often pitting one's self against such challenges is reward in and of itself. Additionally, I think the long term interests of our group, the Union, and the city at large, are served by bringing these six to justice.

That being said, I am not opposed to seeking compensation. Perhaps a member of this Warning Guild might be able to illuminate the possibilities."

[Gorgon_Heap]

Dell looks unhappy with that suggestion. "If we're going to do it, let's leave the Dragonmarks out of it. This is their problem to begin with - let's fix their mess and show'em they don't rule the world."

[Starbin]

Kra-jak nodded solemnly. He figured Dell must have a reason for not trusting the Houses, so it mattered little to him whether they petitioned them for possible compensation.

"Let us investigate on our own, then. Even in Sharn, I am confident that someone has information. It will simply be a matter of finding them."

[Nimrod]

It seems that the raucous crowd is competing with the gathered musicians as the four of you have to shout just to be heard above the din. Adventurers, guards (who show no interest in you), and sellswords of every walk of life congregate in the Drunken Dragon, looking for jobs or a few stories over drinks. Before long, there is scarcely a single open seat in the house. Service is prompt and the drink is quite good, however, as you discuss your options regarding the escaped convicts. The dragonmarks, as Dell refers to them, have notoriously deep coffers, but once one is in business with them, it is hard to free ones self of their manipulations.

Aluatra listens to what each of you say, nodding and occasionally casting a glance towards the bar. She nods in agreement with the notion of compensation, but when Dell proposes that you leave House Medani out of it, she gives a chuckle.

"It might be a little too late for that. There's a fellow at the bar that seems to have taken an interest in us," she says, her oversized incisors gleaming in the many colored lights that shine within the overhead sconces. Without being too conspicuous, she nods her head toward the front of the tavern. It takes you a moment to pick him out, but you eventually catch the man she speaks of - a stately-looking khoravar in a long coat with slicked back hair and white patches at each temple - glance your way...

[Starbin]

The evening wore on ... Kra-jak kept an eye on the crowds around them, never completly comfortable with such venues. As the noise and customers increased, he became more and more withdrawn. It wasn't until Aluatra pointed out the khoravar at the bar that he found interest again. Taking a moment to gaze at the man eyeing them, he wondered who he was, and what his purpose was ...

Perception check to see who else might be checking us out, or any general threats to our group. [roll0]
Sense Motive on the khoravar: [roll1]

[Nimrod]

As you try to get a bead on the khoravar at the bar, you begin to wonder if he wanted you to notice him noticing you. There are some in Sharn that enjoy playing such games, as dangerous as they may be. Regardless, as you lock eyes with him, he turns to slide a few coins to settle his tab, and rises, smoothing his long, gray jacket as he stands. His brown hair is slicked back and he has a very pronounced gray streak above each temple, pushed back behind his softly pointed ears. His nose reminds you of the beak of a hawk... as do his eyes. He approaches, holding his hands up either to suggest that you keep your seats or to show that he is unarmed. Either way, it's better than his sticking them in his pockets.

"I'm Creilath Movanek," he says, squatting by your table and smiling in a way that is probably designed to put you at ease... again placing his hands upon the table where you can see them. He's either used to dealing with dangerous people or he knows just how dangerous the four of you can be if caught on the wrong side of the table. Either way, you don't take the fellow for a dummy.

"You four are with the Digger's Union, right?" he asks. It's a pretty rote thing to say, as the man obviously knows who you are... but there you are, gathered around the same table, mired within the same social mores...

[Gorgon_Heap]

Sgt. Dell frowns a bit as the man approaches, and though she doesn't move from her relaxed position everyone can see her powerful muscles tense.

When the - half-elf? - shows some sense about playing it easy, she relaxes again and watches him closely as blithely waves her empty tankard around for attention.

"Sure," she says mirthfully, waggling the haft of her giant mallet, "this is a shovel, ain't it?"

[rypt]

As he observes the stranger's approach, Eoli leans forward slightly, one foot subtly shifting backwards to rest a heel against the leg of his chair, such that he might push it out of the way in the event he needs to quickly stand. Once the half-elf introduces himself, however, Eoli sighs, and leans back again, his foot returning to its previous position on the floor. "What do you want, Inquisitive, and who do you want it for?"

[Starbin]

Kra-jak simply watched as the man approached, feeling confident the khoravar wouldn't be foolish enough to challenge the foursome. If he did, he would be both stupid and dead.

Instead, the man introduced himself, seeking confirmation of their allegiance. The monk didn't respond, letting his companions do the talking while he sized up the newcomer.

Perception: [roll0]
Sense Motive: [roll1]

[Nimrod]

Creilath spreads his fingers and gives up a sigh, chuckling as if he knew this would be difficult. Squatting by the table, he adjusts his weight before nodding to Eoli's acknowledgement, smiling modestly as if flattered that the elf recognizes him.

"When those prisoners escaped, it was a black eye for House Deneith. They lost a lot of clients with that and would have lost a lot more if you hadn't stepped in and put an end to it. If not for your friend," he nods towards Aluatra, "a lot more would have died."

Catching his stride, he continues. "For Baron Trelib d'Medani to have come to me to find you tells me that his back is against a wall," the inquisitive states as if taking some pride in the fact. "This disgrace has jeopardized his contracts with the Citadel, but something tells me that this is more than that. The baron is a very rich man," he says, waggling his eyebrows and standing. He pulls a pair of gloves from his belt and begins putting them on as if preparing to leave. "The loss of a contract, no matter how lucrative, would not have him so... anxious.

"It goes without saying that the coffers of House Medani run deeper than anything the Digger's Union is paying and he desperately wants an audience with you. If you choose to answer his summons, don't let him off the hook for anything less than a fortune," he says with a laugh before placing an unopened letter upon the table.

With a tip of an imaginary hat, he turns on his heel and begins winding his way through the noisy crowd, disappearing into the streets outside.

[Gorgon_Heap]

As the man talks, Dell alternates between rude distraction, rolling her eyes and nodding sagely. She watches him leave with little interest.

The moment he's out the door she snatches up the letter with excitement and reads it aloud.

[Starbin]

I'd like to ask a few questions before he leaves, if possible ...

Kra-jak listened to the man, eyes noting his self-important indulgence. As the man made to leave, the shifter raised a hand slightly. "Pardon, but may I ask exactly who are you and what do you do for the House? Aside from your name and running errands, of course."

[Nimrod]

"I am but a mysterious and charming inquisitive who owes a man a favor," Creilath calls back with a crooked grin before departing. Once he is out of the building, Dell snatches up the letter. Tearing open the wax-sealed envelope, she unfolds the letter to find a short paragraph of even script, the characters scratched out meticulously in tall but narrow characters:


"Mysterious Altruists,

We at the Warning Guild are admirers of your work. If you are amenable to helping the Guild further, seek Baron Trelid d'Medani in the Dragon Towers. He will see to it that you are handsomely rewarded for your troubles."

If you are inclined to take up the Warning Guild on its offer, you are familiar with the Dragon Towers district. It would not be very hard to find the guild's offices...

[Starbin]

Watching the inquisitive depart with narrowed eyes, Kra-jak pondered the man's words. The situation seemed politically charged, and this wealthy and powerful Baron had used a resource outside his own House to contact the four of them. It spoke of either desparation or deception ... and either one could be dangerous to Kra-jak and his companions.

His eyes turned back to the others as Dell read the note quickly. "Should we presume this letter will have something to do with the dangerous fugitives that are still at large? It is interesting that this Baron would use an outside messenger to contact us ... something we should ask him, if given the opportunity."

Not gonna assume that Dell reads it aloud just yet ...

[Gorgon_Heap]

Dell purses her lips in pleasure and arches a brow. "'Handsomely' rewarded, huh? For that and bragging rights over their not being able to handle this in-house, sounds good to me."

[rypt]

Eoli stares into the bottom of his glass as Dell reads the note aloud. Correspondence written on behalf of the Baron of a 'marked house is a rare thing, and when she has finished, he extends a hand across the table. "May I?"

Taking up the letter, the elf seems to read through it silently a number of times, and to the others, it may appear as though he is suspicious of its contents. In truth, the words hardly register with him at all. Far more interesting is the weight and texture of the parchment, the style of the script, and the quality of the ink. For someone with his talents, this letter could prove a valuable resource, and something worth examining more carefully.

Of course, such examination would have to wait, as Creilath's speculative comments are proving difficult to ignore.

"I'll hear him out," Eoli says at last as he carefully folds the letter and returns it to its envelope. He looks to each of his companions then, Aluatra the last among them. Lips drawn, brow half-cocked and slightly furrowed, his expression seems to ask: happy?

[Starbin]

Kra-jak lapsed into silence, with no response to his statements. It seemed a moot point, since the group looked intent on answering the summons. He waited and watched to see if they wished to go immediately.

[Nimrod]

"Yes!" Aluatra says, flashing her canines in a smile as everyone finally agrees to at least see what this Baron has to say. About that time, a half-orc with too much whiskey in his belly decides to challenge the ogre bouncer and... well it's probably the first time you've ever seen an ogre face-palm a man that big. There is a flash of magic as the fracas escalates, and you take that as your cue to leave.

You awaken the next day after a rough night's sleep... a restlessness in your bones that you find unsettling. You may not have gotten much sleep at all for the raucous partying that has spread through the city like a virus. Horns, explosions, shouts, cackling and singing, beating drums... you name it, it woke you up last night. You'll be glad when Wildnight finally passes. Two more days...

Regardless, you venture out into the litter-strewn streets, watching bleary-eyed stewards cleaning up the garbage from the all-night celebrations. From the looks of them, they were probably up all night as well. Still, with a little food in your stomachs, you meet up near the eastern gates of the Dragon Towers district and make your way to the offices of the so-called Baron. The streets between the massive towers are wide and uncluttered here, and you figure that you've found your destination when you encounter an entourage of Medani sentries in mithral breastplates and gleaming helms waiting on you at the gate of a stately and defensible townhouse. With few words, they escort you into the estate, past an oddly incomplete marble pedestal, and to the Baron's private office. Busts, weapons, antiques, trophies, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases line every inch of the walls. If they are treasures of his career, he has led quite a storied one.

Baron Trelib d'Medani is a tall khorvar of middling years that was probably in much better shape in his younger days. Regardless, he still strikes you as a capable fellow in a scrap. He has a head full of close-cut jet black hair and a brazen mustache to match. The buttons of his coat gleam in the sunlight streaming in through the wide window of his opulent office... and when he turns, you can see that his eyes have the look of a man that has not seen sleep in several nights.

An awkward moment passes as he merely stands there, looking at you all, before he gestures to help yourselves to whatever spirits you might enjoy from his cabinet. A wide selection of liquers and spirits line the shelves above an assortment of crystal and garnishes. You figure that this kind of life would make anyone soft.

"I am glad you came," the stately khorovar says after a long moment, giving you a tired, half-hearted smile before dismissing the sentries with a wave of his hand. Your ears pop as the doors close, sealing the room like a air-tight vault.

"I am Baron Trelib d'Medani," he says, stating what you take to be obvious. "First of all, I would like to offer you my sincerest gratitude. You saved my men and prevented an unfortunate event from becoming a bloody disaster. Might I have your names?"

[Starbin]

The monk inclined his head slightly. "Kra-jak." Standing silently, he let the others introduce themselves.

[Gorgon_Heap]

Taking the shifter's lead and trying to ignore the wall of liquor, "Sgt. Hallina Dell."

[rypt]

Scoffing at the sergeant's restraint, Eoli does not hesitate in approaching the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of whatever looks most expensive as he peers back over his shoulder. "Eoli Ithruil."

[Nimrod]

"Aluatra," the shifter cleric finishes by way of introductions, her ears twitching as she looks around at the impressive office.

"Cyran?" the perceptive baron asks Dell and Eoli, quirking an eyebrow as if he was not expecting such. One does not arrive as the head of House Deneith without learning a little detective work, you suppose, leading you to wonder what else he may glean about you during the course of your conversation. He purses his lips beneath the large mustache and nods as if the news of the Mourning still pains him, though not nearly as much it does someone who called the country their home.

"Well, again, I owe you my gratitude for your actions in the caravan disaster, but if I am to be honest, the incident is the least of my worries. The silver basilisk, a statuette which once adorned the entryway to my office, has gone missing. To make matters worse," he says with a heavy sigh, his eyes tired with grief, "... my daughter, Zelina, and her team of Warning Guild inquisitives vanished without a trace two days ago while performing the investigation.

He puts on a strong facade, but you can plainly see the bone-weariness that the baron suffers from. "I am prepared to pay you two thousand gold, each, if you can find my daughter and retrieve the silver basilisk," he states. A small fortune! He does his best to present the appearance of a powerful patron returning you a favor, but you can see that the man is deeply concerned for the well-being of his daughter and the reputation of his family...

[Gorgon_Heap]

Dell's brow shoots upward in surprise. That's a lot of money. Having never been a part of Dragonmarked House, she can only conjure wild speculation regarding the man's reasons for tossing around so much gold when he could have his own family do it ... Oh well.

But still she hesitates for a long moment. Getting involved in Dragonmarked business left a cold pit in her stomach, but 2,000 dragons ... And the man lost his daughter. She hated herself for wanting to help him. She also hated herself for wanting to stay out of it.

She slowly pushes the feeling aside. What else does she have to do? It'll rid her of the monotony, it's a good deed, and it'll give her enough gold to drink herself to death.

"Very well, my lord. You have my services." She looks expectantly at the others, hoping she didn't just make herself look foolish.

[Starbin]

Kra-jak listened as the man spoke, gauging both his words and the myriad of mannerisms that might give insight into d'Medani's true feelings. The shifter fully expected the man to make a comment about the missing prisoners when he was surprised by the actual request. Raising an eyebrow, Kra-jak looked at the others, wondering what they made of all this.

He could clearly see Dell warring with some inner thoughts before she finally stepped forward and offered her services. When she glanced back at the remaining three, the monk sighed inwardly. Giving the woman a faint nod, he raised a hand. "I will stand with Sgt Dell."

As he waited for the others to answer, Kra-jak looked around the room, looking back to the entrance to the room for signs of where the statuette might have sat. Then he turned back to the baron. "What is special about the statue? And why did you send your daughter to find it?"

Sense Motive on the baron: [roll0]; Perception check for clues/things of note: [roll1]

[rypt]

Trelib's standing in his house speaks plainly of his political savvy, but given the fact that Eoli quite literally wears his national allegiance on his sleeve, the elf is not particularly impressed by this initial demonstration of the baron's deductive talent. He nods slowly and deliberately in reply, as much a minimal concession to etiquette as a subtly cautionary gesture against any further elaboration of the khoravar's...expectations.

As the true purpose of their visit becomes clear, Eoli glances to Aluatra for the chance that he might witness the exact moment when she realizes that they are not here to deal with any of the six escaped fugitives, but instead have been called to the office of the Medani patriarch on account of a missing table ornament.

"We'd be fools to turn down that kind of coin," he states plainly, giving voice to what he assumes the others must be thinking. "And so too would've been Creilath Movanek, a man whose reputation is worth more than any one of ours. But you sent him to find us instead of your daughter. Why?"

[Starbin]

Kra-jak nodded, almost to himself. A valid question that might give them more insight into the Baron's intentions ...