Alensia (IC)

[thethird]

Misty Alensia
Episode 1: From the pan to the fire.

Almost none of you have ever been before at the command room but somehow it gives a familiar feeling. After all the mightiest of Alensia are here, if not the greatest, and they move mimicking the city below. As the city the room has changed. Long ago before the cataclysm when those of the city still revered the elemental gods it had been a temple. Under the debris and the dust one can still see the representation of the waves and raindrops associated with the Bringer of Rain. Several water tanks older than the collective memory of the city lie discarded in the fringes of the room. Other have found renewed purpose, hanging from the center and at strategic point, serving both as a scrying focus and as a source of light.

The biggest of them, a fish tank that might be able to house a shark is in the center of the room. Darfellan priests garbed in full deep blue robes tend to it, spooning some of it at some points or adding mystical concoctions to it increasing the clarity. If anyone looks deep into it, and it is hard not to do, one would see what appears to be the top of a fallen tower. Somehow it appears to rest a top of a mountain.

Two people are focused on it, one is a short and stout female dwarf. "Tiny" Enrietta Cutler. Her hair is kept in two braids and died brightly orange. Her head is topped by a black tricorne decorated with long colorful feathers. Her vestment is a long aquamarine leather duster covered by two rows of bandoleers filled with pouches. Her legs are fit into two loose brown pants kept in place by a red sash. Her feet are bare and show the callouses of one who has spent most of her life over a ship.

The other... creature looking at it is swarmed in chains. Its limbs are tied to the ceiling from where he hangs like a broken marionette. Its green skinned head lies low, whimpering something to himself. Tucse, at one point platoon and expedition leader of the goblin force in Alensia is now a sorry sight to look at.

Tending the goblin there is a dark figure. Some would say that the warforged are the logical evolution of golems. Whether this thing is the logical evolution of warforged or not remains to be seen, what is sure is that it is an "evolution". Its skin appears to be from several multifaceted tones, as if someone enamored with the idea of human skin but lacking the basic concept had patched him. Some dots seems to be even multicolored, appearing in green, blue, white or orange. The cold iron stitches are practically imperceptible, but they are there, holding his skin suit together. Its fingers cold and metallic caress the skin of the goblin, stroking him with dark pleasure.

Around the room several dwarfs, garbed in red leather and meteoric metal, that is somehow hidden behind their ample white beards tend to levers updating constantly the maps that lie around the room. Anyone familiar with the geography of the island can tell that it is a map of it. And if the green dots swarming the south of it are goblins things are not looking good.

Crowning the room there is a U shaped table. Long ago it might have been an altar. At the right of it, swimming comfortable in its fish tank the most famous procurator observes the pirate dwarf with watery eyes. Don Schiuma doesn't appear to be happy.

At the left, with a grin that speaks of few friends and many worries rests Lucanor Rotchild of the Providers. He wears an undertaker's formal attire, well kept and well cut by the best tailors of the city. Shiny black leather shoes, tight black cotton pants, fresh white linen shirt, black long cotton coat decorated with tiny buttons of dull brass, and finally a top black hat in his head. Still there is something wild to the man. His black hair is braided and kept in a ponytail at his back giving him the appearance of a raven pointing its white bony beak towards the prey. Small totems and tokens decorate his persona, be it the tiny skull that keeps his tie in place, the yellow flower in his hat or the beads bracelet in his right hand.

Obscured behind him in shadows that somehow the lights of the room seem to be afraid of breaking rests a female figure clad in armor. Her armor is black as the darkest night, decorated only with some bone ornaments at the metal borders. Her gaze is lost in the Musk Sisters, and only the left side of her beautiful face is visible. Her white skin is without imperfection, remarking the red of her lips and highlighting her black eyelashes and hair. Altered by the sound of the door she tilts her head towards you, and looks you in the eye. Her left side, before hidden from view is inhuman. Her face is contorted in a smirk where her lips have been peeled by fire. Her left eye is a perfect glass sphere contrasting with the burned destruction around it. Her nose is just a pale reminder of what it once was. Her voice rasps as smokey velvet.

But the most imposing figure is at the center of the table. There stands a throne made of gold and decorated with skulls of animals, humanoid and more esoteric creatures. The size of which could fit a giant comfortably but seems to struggle to hold an average man. Jorel of the reclaimers sits in the place of his master, and his red tunic seems to flow like blood covering everything that touches. His hands are the only part of him visible, thin fingers, like spider legs are pressed by the fingertips against each other.

Unexpectedly it is he who speaks, although being the one of lowest standing among those present.

-Welcome to our domain. Come join us.

[Archmage1]

As he enters the room, walking quietly, Tarith looks around, his eyes widening as he takes in the obviously magical nature of the scrying tank, and the image there, as well as the various signs of a group that is not comfortable in their own power.
Watching the scrying pool(Aquarium?), Tarith is not sure what to think. He knew Tiny by reputation, but the goblin presence was a surprise, forcing him to wonder where it had came from.
Still, almost as soon as he starts to focus on them, his attention is drawn to the maps along the edges, and the dire state of the situation. Perhaps they were marking suspected goblin attacks, rather than actual, although he doubted it.

Almost more surprising are the three leaders in the room. The fishy leader of the Procruators, Rotchild, of the providers, and, more familiarly to him, Jorel, of the reclaimers, a man that he had not see much of, despite being more aligned with the reclaimers. He is unsurprised to see Jorel, rather than Bigus. He notes the burned woman, not recognizing her, and it would be rude to comment, anyway.

After a few moments spent observing, Jorel speaks, and Tarith knows that this was indeed the meeting that Scypher spoke of.
He walks forwards, towards the center of the table, not willing to take a seat, as these were not people that he would offend. Besides, maybe something interesting would happen.

Looking at the young man, it is clear that he has done a fair amount of traveling. He wears dark clothing, not black, but dark. It might have been black at one time, but it has faded. He bears a sword at his hip, and a more battered blade might be hard to find. For all that, it looks serviceable enough. At the other hip rides a crossbow, and he looks like he is prepared for anything. Still, the most noticeable thing about him is the large metal gauntlet on one hand, and a more evil looking gauntlet could be hard to find. Faintly, slightly lighter metal on the blackened metal of the gauntlet, runes can be seen.

"You wanted to see me?"

[AngryCyc]

Felip

Felip enters and waits, leaning against a wall out of the way. He's not sure how important his news is compared to these other people... So he'll wait until someone asks for him to speak.

He nods in comprehension though when addressed.

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat

Grimacing, Ira'hat enters the room. He was here once before, and it lead directly to the stuff of nightmares. He hadn't been sleeping well since their fateful return from the undercity. The place where he had started creeping back into recently, making 'trading' runs with the goblins and poking around for signs of others he had encountered. The shaman had unfinished business and knew it was time to tend to it.

The scene was unremarkable, not unlike the first time he had appeared for a mission. Although seeing a former ally chained to the ceiling was disturbing to say the least, his face betrayed no emotion. He felt it was always better to wait, watch, and listen first. His outrage could just continue to brew until it was time. These black and white lines of the "enemy encampment" were hardly useful. It was pitiful the "leader" and "reclaimers" did not understand the real threats to the city and the balance in their lives.

"Charmed, as always," Ira'hat said calmly as he looked for a place to sit.

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak Loufer

Tak is leaning against a wall, positively lounging, his face creased by something midway between a grin and a smirk. His clothes are plain, but his easy demeanor makes it seem as though he were born among such company. A large raven flutters idly at his shoulder, and he periodically tosses what appears to be a small beetle in the air, watching the raven catch it with its large, sharp beak.

Growing restless, he wanders over to the various water tanks and peers into them. He winks at the one containing the gilled head of the Procurator's Guild, then stands before the largest scrying tank, tapping idly at the glass.

"Nice tank," he says to the darfellan priests. "Picture seems a little fuzzy, though." He taps at the glass again.

[JanusJones]

Yakuma Shadeblood

Yakuma arrives late. He considered it a mark of low breeding to do otherwise.

After giving the room a cursory glance, he shifts his dark glasses down on his nose before executing a courtly - if a trifle shallow - bow.

His dress is impeccably tailored in grey silk with accents of dark purple and blue, and gives him the appearance of a foppish courtier. He looks utterly out of place next to some of the others - or entirely in-place considering the menagerie of characters assembled in the room.

"Yakuma, of the Shadeblood family. While I recognize some by sight and others by reputation, I have not had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of you all. Clearly such a gathering of such ... luminaries bodes news of some great matter."

"A pleasure."

He promptly sits in the most comfortable unoccupied seat and begins idly cleaning his impeccable nails with a tiny, slender blade.

[-Jynx-]

Darnus Legatus.

Arriving just behind Yakuma, Darnus steps into the room. His armor filling the room with a low 'chink' sound as he moves toward the center of the chamber. A dim yellow light belies his eyes inside his ornate helmet as he peers at the others in the room. Standing a few feet behind a chair, Darnus relaxes his stance, his hands held behind his back. "Your graces..." his voice cold, distorted from the helmet as a small bit of smoke bellows from the grated mouth of his mask.

Darnus takes another moment, studying the other adventures called to this council. Then his eyes fixate on the golbin. Thoughts begin to brew as to its purpose here, and how it came to be, but that mattered little he thought as he turned his attention to Jorel.

[thethird]

The limbs of Jorel shift slightly, with every move his tunic shifts, as the webbing of a spider vibrating under its masters touch.

-Yes your presence was required. There are grave news, Felip if you will inform them.

For his part the darfellan seems startled by Tak's comment and he throws a gold fish into the water. After that he throws small colored dust into it which the fish swiftly eats forming a pattern that stirs the water in mystical patterns. The image clarifies and now it is easier to distinguish what is inside. The tower is Bigus Dickus at the south, but it has not fallen, a mountain has appeared around it. A mountain that from time to time twitches in a macabre rattle. The slop of the mountain is littered of goblin bodies twisted in inhuman ways. Somehow you realize that not only the surface but the actual mountain is made of the corpses of the fallen.

The muttering by the chained goblin grows in a loud crescendo. Eventually he shouts.

-That is not of the Imac Bon!

As he does its jailer hits him with the back of his hand making the consciousness of the creature retreat.

-As you can see we are under dire circumstances. We cannot reach ambassador Karsh and the persuasion applied to this particular goblin has proved unfruitful.

[AngryCyc]

Felip

"Err... yes. Well. Apparently we lost contact with the front lines. There hadn't been an attack for two weeks and suddenly everything went silent... Jorel, someone competent needs to investigate. ...that is what I was told."

He ends just as he began, without much pomp or excitement. Listening to him talk, one would think he was describing the inventory of the number of ceramic bowls left in a pottery shop, or telling a patron of a tavern that they paid with a silver piece when they meant to use a copper; he clearly had very little idea of the importance of the words he was using.

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak

Tak looks up at the struggling, chained goblin. He studies it carefully for some time, his eyes passing over the chains to the goblin's form underneath. "There are gentler ways to interrogate someone, you know," he says, his eyes never leaving the muttering goblin. "Ways that are far more effective than... whatever you call this that you're doing to him."

He shakes his head in dismay, and you can just make out a whispered word come from under his breath - "Amateurs!"

He nods appreciatively at the now clearer image in the tank, and taps his finger against his mouth thoughtfully. "I could probably be persuaded to lend a hand," he muses. "I've always had a knack for learning hidden things. I'll bet I could get whatever you need in time for lunch." He turns to the large armored woman and smiles broadly. "For a price, of course."

[JanusJones]

"Whatever your talents, they apparently do not extend to noticing the obvious." Yakuma waved a languid hand at the assembly without looking up from inspecting his nails. "There's clearly an offer here, and one decided on before we were invited."

He raises his eyes briefly to glance at Jorel over his glasses. "Please, do go on. We're all breathless with anticipation."

[-Jynx-]

Darnus scoffs at Tak and Yakumas comments "You would do well to show respect to your superiors, and learn your place." Darnus said in a stern voice. His eyes glare at Yakuma coldly a moment before shifting his gaze back to the council "What would you ask of us."

[Archmage1]

Tarith looks at the others, apparently, also invited. They look much more comfortable than he, here, in this place. After all, what was he doing here? He worked for the reclaimers, sometimes, but he was not a soldier, only an explorer.

When the pool clears, he looks on in horror.
Is that... is that a mountain of corpses?

"What happened? The amount of goblins that would be needed to make such a pile... it is almost incomprehensible. And I don't think that there is anyone that could kill that many of them."

[Piggy Knowles]

Darnus scoffs at Tak and Yakumas comments "You would do well to show respect to your superiors, and learn your place."

"I always show respect to my superiors," says Tak. "I just yet to find any. I don't suppose you'd know where any are hiding?"

He stands up straight, affecting a lofty pose with his nose in the air. He does a good job of it, and for a moment it seems as though he could be nobility, but he spoils the effect by stumbling on the hem of his cloak. A harsh, choking noise not unlike laughter comes from the raven at his side. Embarrassed, Tak sits down.

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat

Ira'hat sighed internally. The leadership never failed to astound him in their rash actions. He tried to contain his tone of outrage to see if anything productive could be accomplished. "So I see a pile of dead goblins. Because of this, you've chained a goblin, one that was noted to be peaceful and assisted a government expedition before, to the ceiling and decided to torture him. Are we now punishing the goblins for killing their own kind? And as Tak mentioned, there are better ways to interrogate people. I would request you release the greenskin to our care and let us see what we can glean from him."

A goblin massacre would explain why the last two shipments he was expecting went missing. So bad for business. Ira'hat felt bad for the goblins, always caught in the middle of something.

[thethird]

At the outburst of Ira'hat Rotchild, high undertaker of the Providers stands up. His demeanor is calm, but anyone capable of perceiving the spirits would see the phantom of a snake coiling around its shoulders and hissing in anger. The man leaves its long hat at the table revealing his dreadlocks to the light, several talismans are embedded in them, giving him an eerie appearance. The armored woman takes a step behind him, tailing him like a trained hound, but stops when he raises the hand.

-Torture? What do you know of torture? Those bindings are there to keep him from hurting itself. When left to his own devices he tried to drown in the scrying pool.

He then addresses the group with a grave voice.

-Some of you seem to have better eyes than others, while others have better judgement, or cap...

As he speaks he is interrupted by Enrietta, the dwarf shouts with a strong voice.

-It is starting!

Her eyes are transfixed in the scrying pool and whoever looks won't be able to divert the gaze. The corpses of goblins are... erupting in what appears to be a pile of vines and yellowish flowers. Soon the mass of goblins gets sepulchered under the growing greenery. The tendrils press and swirl soon clashing against the tower in the center reducing it to a pile of dust and rubble.

-Well, you've seen it now. The goblin are swarming us with their non-combatants which then turn into... those things. We fear that some third party is involved, because the goblin keeps claiming that this is not the goblin way of fighting. A third party that is proving really hard to locate or deal with.

OOC
Ira'hat I hope that you know what's going on, if not roll for an Oh Crap moment

[Archmage1]

Tarith watches the grisly display with calm equamity, but you know that he is deeply concerned about the events.

"I... I don't know what to say to that."

He pauses, and calms himself.

"That can't be a repeatable tactic... they lost hundreds, just to take a tower, and the hundreds that they can least afford to lose. Would you have any ideas why the Arsai are helping them? I would have thought that they would be enemies, unless they are planning something more... tricky, I suppose."

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat groaned audibly at the scene. He had no idea she had gotten so out of control since the last time he had encountered her. He had heard rumblings of her powers growing and felt presences in the undercity as he went about his business, but he had largely been able to detect and avoid any unwanted company.

Feeling all eyes on him from the groan, he began, "This was a small section in my briefing. Remember how we had mentioned we ran into a fey named Ellilon Sith? Who was harboring some destructive plant life, which, if you recall, you did not approve any forces for an expedition to remedy the situation at the time...Anyway, she was growing several of these plants. And she sent her lackeys for us last time, demanding goblin sacrifices, fewer than that mind you. If not for my diplomatic prowess, we could have been facing a nasty ambush and I doubt we would have made it back alive. This could be her doing--she is a quite violent spirit who I believe was corrupted by the mist."

He could not help but feel somewhat responsible for this carnage if it were truly her doing, but it had all the markings of her lot. Hopefully now they would act.

OOC
I assumed some things, let me know if I need to edit it :smallwink:

[Archmage1]

"Well, there is an invisible participant... there, see that shimmer? That could be this Ellion Sith..."

As he speaks, Tarith leans forwards, and points out the blur.

[thethird]

Rotchild narrows his eyes focusing on the image, after a second he gravely nods.

-Dear

With a movement so fast that you would have missed it in a blink the shadow of the armored lady appears by his side, she handles him a small pouch which she soon opens removing a collection of little bird bones and an embellished ritual dagger. He uses the knife to cut one of his dirty dreadlocks topped with a small onyx ring. With practice he fits the bones across the hair, fixating the skull to the stone and takes it between his hands whispering grave words to it. It doesn't take long till the creature squeaks and frees itself from the hands. The small skeleton seems to be sustained with thin dark tendrils that grow by the second, soon a raven stands where only bones lied. It caws its order at its master, making sure it has understood it properly and then after a nod of the undertaker it departs flying swiftly through one of the openings of the temple.

OOCIf you really want to know a listen check will help to hear what Rotchild whispered, or if someone, somehow is able to understand "Raven" that will work too

[Archmage1]

After listening in on the conversation, Tarith stares at the magic at work, already wondering how he might duplicate it.

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak leans forward, fascinated by what he sees in the scrying tank, and by the strange raven skeleton. He reaches forward as though to scratch his leg, and quickly signs a few words to the raven in the hand-language of the drow.

<<Scan for auras.>>

The raven begins flying in slow circles around the room, its eyes seeming to glow slightly.

Looking up, he notices the drow in the room as though for the first time, and tries to hide his hand signal awkwardly. He shakes his head and turns back to the rest .

"Fascinating," he says. "I must confess, I've never seen anything like it. How many times has this happened? Any chance for a closer look?"

Signal to Surgat (in raven form) to scan for magic auras while he's here.

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat

Ira'hat nods, seeing the blue that Tarith pointed out. "I see it...too small to be the fey. It's some sort of other spirit, though I'm not sure what. I should mention we saw this, the beginnings of this, in the undercity previously. Vines had begun to grow out of a blue goblin much in the same manner. What does the council propose?"

He ignores the conjuring of the raven. It stinks of necromancy which he still was not fond of.

[-Jynx-]

"Ellilon Sith..." Darnus muttered loud enough for the others to hear "Once a fey, but has since evolved into a plant hive mind of sorts" Darnus looks into the pool a moment more before continuing "An abomination that need be cleansed from Alensia"

[Archmage1]

"A plant hivemind? How would t hat even work? They are mostly mindless, after all. Can he control them all? Or is he under the control of a yellow musk?"

[-Jynx-]

"She controls them, but also act sentient of her will." Darnus replied, his eyes shifting toward Tarith. Looking back at the council "Your problem most likely lies with her, not the golbin ilk."

[Archmage1]

"You have encountered her before, then? What happened?"

[thethird]

Jorel raises a hand signaling for silence.

-Well, well, you've seen the events unfold. If this Ellilon Sith that you mention shows her hand we will take her arm. But as is the goblins seem to be racing towards Kairn's Last Stand. They have already taken both Bigus Dicus and Falus Magnus, so that is the obvious next step.

His pose shifts in the chair looking around, for a moment examining those in the room.

-The fort is the stronghold of the Reclaimers, and I hope that Bigus Magnus Enormus is there. Our information shows the place to still be manned, but messengers are growing thin. In the vaults of the fort are many valuables reclaimed from the undercity, I fear that the new leader of the goblin army is somehow interested in those. I also hope that something there might prove lethal to the foul creature, if the Reclaimers still lead the fort ask for their assistance in your quest.

He then shakes his hand in a dismissive manner.

-Before you leave, dear...

The voice of Rotchild sounds again controlled and calmed, as he speaks the armored and charred shadow appears atop the chains of the goblin. She seems to be tiptoeing on one of the metal links. Her swords swirls, unfurling like a whip, each piece appearing like a vertebra. Metal gnashes at metal and swiftly the goblin falls to the ground. The warforged creature moves to take it, but the armored woman stands between it and its prey.

-Take the goblin if you want, question him if it pleases you, and return it to us. Or if you convince it to accompany you... so be it.

[Archmage1]

Tarith brightens at this news.
"Going through the vaults? This should be... interesting. I always wanted to see the vaults..."

On the goblin, he expresses no opinion.

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak reaches over to support the fallen goblin. Leaning over, he whispers in its ear in the goblin tongue.

"<<Better come along with us, friend,>>" he whispers. "<<I promise to be more gentle than this lot, at least. Were you part of the goblin army? I served as a courier for them once. Good people, over all. Let's get you away from this lot before someone starts poking holes in you.>>"*

Moving his head away from the goblin, he whistles sharply, and the raven stops circling around the room and lands on his shoulder.

Well, no, he actually hasn't, but a 35 on his bluff check says he has.

[thethird]

As Tak holds him the goblin shifts its head in the most imperceptible of nods before letting its body limp embracing unconsciousness.

[Archmage1]

Tarith turns to leave, clearly eager to get started. Looking through the reclaimer's vault... who knows what could be found.
He pauses.
"Is there anything else, or can we get started?"

[JanusJones]

"Hmm. We're off to find something someone else may want, while another unknown something somehow enhances our enemies and threatens our walls. Droll." As swiftly as it appeared in his delicate fingers, the blade he was using to clean his nails is gone. Yakuma pushes his glasses into place, but remains seated.

"Forgive such a mundane query, but ... Our reward, apart from doing our due diligent duty to the lovely city and it's charming populace? And may I ask who exactly is being assigned this honor, as opposed to those in attendance for..." here he lifts one white eyebrow, stark against his skin, "other purposes?"

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat moves to support Tusce on their way out. "I'm sorry you've been treated this way old friend, come, be healed, and let's move along."

Uses sacred healing if case he's injured.

[-Jynx-]

Darnus simply gives a courteous head nod and slight bow before turning toward the two carrying the goblin out of the room. Tailing just behind them.

[thethird]

The words of Yakuma makes Jorel raise his shoulders, it seems funny, in the same way than seeing a spider trying to adopt a human expression seems funny. Well, perhaps not funny, out of place.

-I guess that if you are stupid enough to not consider the access to the reclaimers vault proper payment you might not be capable of carrying on this mission. Still I understand that not all of you are loyal servants of the city, or that perhaps your loyalty has to be encouraged, any deals that were made before attending this meeting should stand.

He then retreats into his throne.

-If you need to discuss who is loyal to whom, be free to do so in private. If anyone wants a piece of advice, Ira'hat is an efficient fellow. And he disagrees enough with us to be likable, I guess.

[Piggy Knowles]

Though the words are not meant for him, Tak nods.

"I am certain I can find my own method of recompense, personally," he says. "However, if all goes well..."

He turns to the fish tank holding the most famous of the Procurators, and squints into its murky depths. "If all goes well, I'd like to be considered for a more regular position," he goes on. "I'm tired of this catch-as-catch-can thief's life. It's time to move on to bigger things." He smiles broadly, his eyes fixed on the fishy form of Don Schiuma.

After a moment, he bows with great formality, then turns to Jorel. "A pleasure to meet you," he says, with a bob of his head. He winks at the woman in the night-black armor. "And a pleasure to see you again, of course."

With that, he hoists the mostly unconscious goblin up, and begins making his way toward the room's exit.

[Mishkov]

"I hope that I am likeable, but I'm really not all that disagreeable, Jorel," Ira'hat quips dryly on his way out. His sense of humor was most likely lost on him, but one has to get his laughs somehow in life.

[JanusJones]

"Naturally, I did not consider myself at liberty to remove any treasures from the vault without express permission. Forgive me for being so dense." Yakuma smiles, a sudden flash of white, even teeth in his dark face.

"I will consider this your permission. My thanks." He nods to Ira'hat. "Lead on - it seems you are our nominal guide." He looks around the room again, noting the large number of unique individuals standing about, and stands, a fluid motion. "Though I must confess, I'm still unclear as to exactly who 'we' are."

He bows gracefully but in an indirect way to the room.

"A pleasure. And, to those I've yet to identify as companions, I look forward to making your further acquaintance."

[Archmage1]

Tarith, distracted by thoughts of the vault, simply follows the others out.

[Piggy Knowles]

As each member departs, Tak catches the eye of Yakuma, the proud-looking drow he is apparently to accompany. Using the body of the goblin to shield his gestures from Jorel and the others, he surreptitiously signs to him.

"<<Do you speak the hidden language of the drow?>>" he signs, an eyebrow raised.

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat replies in DSL, <<"I doubt it. That language is much too secret.">> His face was expressionless, bordering on serious, but his eyes were playful and mocking.

[JanusJones]

"Nobody has standards of instruction these days, it seems." He yawns widely as he makes his way to the door, flashing a quick sign backwards.

<<Anyone else care to join the conversation? Perhaps we have something in common after all.>>

[Archmage1]

Tarith's fingers dance easily through the signs he was taught.
<<A useful trick for talking silently. Who wouldn't have picked it up?>>

[-Jynx-]

Darnus glanced at the hand signals back and forth. He too could speak DSL but found himself much too proud to sign in the language unless necessary.

"Ira'hat was it? If you are our 'expert' then in this matter, do we need anything further from the goblin or are we to move to the fort now." His words sounded impatient yet almost uncaring. As he strode amongst the others.

[Archmage1]

Not wanting to delay taking a look in the vaults, Tarith speaks up.
"We can probably talk to him on the way."

[Piggy Knowles]

"I agree," says Tak. "This poor goblin has been through enough for now."

Surreptitiously, he signs to the rest of the group.

"<<My, my, my! You all are full of surprises. I'd imagine being able to communicate like this will come in handy,>>" he signs. "<<In any case, I recommend letting the goblin believe he's safe and cared for right now. If we need to put him to use down the road, it will be easier if he trusts us. Later, if necessary, I can take a quick trip into his mind and see what secrets he's hiding.>>"

Once they leave the sight of the previous room, the raven on Tak's shoulder begins to shift about. It draws its wings in, and its feathers seem to contract into its body. It curls in on itself, and when it uncurls, there stands a tiny, impish-looking devil with double horns protruding from his head. His skin is jet black and seems to blend in with the shadows, and large bat-like wings unfurl from his back. Behind him, a long tail ending in a scorpion-like barb curls around Tak's shoulders.

"That was certainly informative," says the imp. His voice is crisp and cultured, a sharp contrast from Tak's smirking drawl. "I am Surgat, by the way. At your service. And while he is too much of an uncultured brat to bother introducing himself, this is Tak Loufer." He indicates Tak with a sweep of his tail. "Charmed, I'm sure."

[Archmage1]

Tarith looks surprised to see Surgat.
An imp? I don't need more demonic influence... But... hopefully, he can deal with it, rather than me.
Still he recovers quickly, and since there is no reason to object, he responds calmly, although he is clearly worried about it.
"Ah, nice to meet you Surgat, and you, Tak. I am Tarith."

[AngryCyc]

Felip follows everyone else out, watching them as they flick their hands and fingers at eachother smugly as if nobody else can see it......

[JanusJones]

"A man of many hidden talents. A pleasure." Yakuma nods to the imp, a gleam of sudden interest in his eye. He halts a moment as the last of the group assemble in the hall.

"Let us consult, then - what talents do we each possess, and what should our approach be? I am as enthusiastic as any, but it seems meet we briefly discuss our assets and strategy. I appreciate your honesty, Ser Surgat, in revealing yourself."

"I profess a certain skill in combat, and can be stealthy when I wish it."

[Archmage1]

Tarith nods at the suggestion, coming to a stop, with the others..
"That makes sense, Yakuma. I am something of a dilettante. I can do pretty much anything. Combat, stealth, healing, skills... I have some skill in most things, although probably not as much as one who has specialized in it."

[Mishkov]

"I consult the spirits, and they lend me their aid." Ira'hat says plainly as if that description would explain everything he was capable of.

[JanusJones]

"Perhaps consulting them now might grant you some insight on how to be more specific, and thus coordinate better with the remainder of our party?" Yakuma leans back against the wall, arms folded, and eyes Ira'hat over his glasses. "For purely practical reasons, of course. I understand if clarity is not your specialty."

[-Jynx-]

Darnus sighs in contempt "Long is the journey of this task but short is my patients to linger here bolstering self proclaimed skill. We were called to purpose for our aptitude in thwarting this goblin resistance. Should any of you prove skillful it will only truly show in the midst of a situation." Darnus continues walking forward with little regard for a response.

[Piggy Knowles]

"As for me, oh, I dabble in this and that," says Tak. "Infiltration, a bit of espionage, some odd jobs here and there. Once even had a six month stint on the stage. I was called the greatest Hamnet to grace the stage since Edwin Booth, you know." He smiles broadly. "Mostly, I steal things."

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat gave him a wryly smile, "They do not need to be consulted for these matters. Most would call me a shaman, or mystic. Do you need further clarifying? " He shot a glance at Tak as he continued. "And I do not steal things, but I have been known to move goods...and substances around for certain buyers."

[thethird]

The goblin opens one of its eyes, the other one seems to be slightly swollen. He looks at Ira'hat and almost peels its lips in a pained smile.

-What's going on Ocim?

[JanusJones]

"Tactics was not part of judge training, I take it." Yakuma shrugs, then nods to Ira'hat. "A caster - any skill with stealth? My concern is primarily how we organize ourselves - who takes the lead, who is support, and how we approach unknown challenges."

He darts a glance at the retreating form of the heavily armored figure. "I was prepared to suggest some sort of split party with an advance guard of stealthier scouts, but our companion seems as though he's ready to eat the whole goblin army himself. Perhaps we should just trail along in his wake, looting the bodies?"

He nods to Tak. "Your companion needs your assistance."

[Archmage1]

"If we are going to move quietly, something that I approve of, I should probably be towards the rear. While I can avoid making a lot of noise, I doubt I am as good as you seem to think you are."

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat smiled kindly at him. "They've released you to our care, friend. Be careful next time--the council is filled with an ignorant lot these days. They've sent us to investigate the...tragedy that's befalling the goblins. What can you tell us of the infested plants?"

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak nods to the goblin. Switching to the goblin tongue, he speaks. "<<I know you have little reason to trust me,>>" he says. "<<I am an outsider, a monkey. But I have worked with the Gsart in the past, able to courier important messages between your people and those outsiders they must out of necessity deal with at times. I will do my best to keep you safe in return for your assistance, and perhaps despite being a useless monkey, I can do something good for all your people.>>"

He moves his body so that the goblin can walk easier, then continues. "<<Rest for a short while, and think on it,>>" he says. "<<How can it go against your people to tell us of what is going on? It seems to be in your best interest as well as ours. I know most in that room were no friends of yours, but I am not like them. Rest up, and when your injuries pain you less, I hope you will trust me enough to tell me what you can.>>"

Switching back to the common tongue, he calls out. "Surgat! Can I call upon you to help carry our friend here?"

The imp lands, and begins to transform once more. Two more legs sprout out of each side, and he begins to grow and bulge in size. Soon he is a great spider the size of a large dog, more than large enough to carry the small goblin on his back. Tak helps place the goblin there, and continues moving forward.

His hands now free, he moves them out of the goblin's line of sight, and signals to the rest of the party in the sign language of the drow.

"<<I've done my best to try to get him to trust us,>>" he signs. "<<I find that voluntary help is much more useful than the forced sort. If that fails, I can act more directly, and search his mind for any answers we may need.>>"


Surgat transforms into a medium-sized monstrous spider. Assuming the goblin is normal size for a goblin, that should be more than large enough to act as a mount.

Another Bluff check, in case it's needed for the, er, prevarications about his previous relationship to the goblins: [roll0]

[thethird]

The goblin gives a slight shake of his head, as if negating something. He bites his tongue for a second before speaking again.

-Ocim, Alensia has always been filled with ignorant scum, that's why I led an expedition to the city and you captured me. Remember? Still what they did was their way of doing things, and I cannot fault them more than I can blame the spider for eating flies.

He looks at Tak and sits unperturbed at the spider, its legs swiftly relocating themselves around the creature's torso. He seems to be a pretty good rider. Surgat can tell that he is not heavy, and he is not actually grasping at him, leaving him freedom to move. The goblin slightly caresses it before looking at Tak.

-I thank you both for the ride. You can speak your trade language if you want. Your Gsart accent is thick, did you learn it from an Alap? Anyways I know little that can be of aid. I haven't been out since I was captured, and before I was there were no plant creatures. As your mystic may remember I attempted to stop them, while my brethren ran away, the fight was dire but Amreg Karsh decided to show mercy and spar me and attempt to protect my companions. The few of us that survived were able to return to the main army and help the Alensian survivors out of the undercity. Of course I had acted against what was expected of my Imac Bon and was condemned to exile. Thus I accompanied Amreg Karsh back to this cursed city and have been under the custody of your leaders since then.

Ocim means monkey, Gsart means goblin, Alap means shovel (although you are pretty sure it also means something else), Amreg means brother, Imac Bon literally translates for "good way".

[Piggy Knowles]

"I learned from a good friend," Tak says. "He would curse or insult me in the Gsart tongue whenever I would do something stupid - act like a monkey, he usually said. Eventually I picked it up myself, so I could learn just how offended I ought to be."

He looks up thoughtfully, as though pondering the vagaries of life. "It came in handy, I must say," he says. "In any case, I know little of the Imac Bon, for none of the Gsart found it fit to instruct me. It is not for me, I suppose. But perhaps we can end this new threat to the Gsart, and restore you from exile?"

As he talks, Surgat dutifully carries the injured goblin forward. He signs to the rest of the group:

"<<Where should our first stop be, gents?>>"

[Archmage1]

"<<I'm prepared for a journey, so we can head for the fort, unless any of you need to make purchases. Can you translate the goblin for us?>>"

[Piggy Knowles]

"<<I told him that as a monkey-like outsider, he had little to trust me, but that I had worked with his people in the past. I promised to help keep him safe in exchange for his assistance, and suggested restoring some of his honor by helping out the rest of his people in aiding us to deal with this threat.>>"

[Archmage1]

Tarith nods.
"<<Seems reasonable enough.>>"

"So... since I suspect that not everyone is ready immediately, shall we, say, meet at the [Insert appropriate direction here] gate in an hour? That should give you time to retrieve anything that you need to retrieve."

[JanusJones]

Yakuma nods - a trifle more considerately. "I am prepared, but it would not be meet to depart without an opportunity for us all to make our own arrangements."

He bows - shallowly, but with evident consideration. "It has been an unexpected pleasure." His eyes linger briefly on Surgat's spidery form, glancing to Tak for a moment with a flicker of interest before he departs.

[Archmage1]

As the group splits up, Tarith heads strait to the gate, as he, suspecting that there was a mission to be had, had already packed, and prepared.

[-Jynx-]

Darnus arrives a little later at the [insert appropriate] gate. Darnus nods at Tarith before unslinging his bow and absentmindedly examining it.

[JanusJones]

Yakuma arrives at the appointed time. He looks as he did - elegantly dressed for a night on the town.

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak arrives a few minutes late, with the goblin still riding Surgat's spidery form.

[thethird]

The Gorgon's gate was heavily guarded, at least heavily guarded for what it normally is. Instead of the normal two guards four where keeping track of everyone who approached it. Their clothes didn't reveal much, other than the affiliation to one of the gangs that offered muscle to the Providers. Still their demeanor was as loaded as their crossbows and that is unusual. Another thing that the savvy eye might catch is the cleanness of the floor, in front of the gate there is no flock of dust, as if it where cleaned regularly.

The men give a passing nod to those reunited in front of their gate, as if they were expected. In fact when the goblin appears a robbed clerk approaches him, handing the green one a sack in a hurry. It seems that part of its property is being returned. Tucse makes little comment on this but when he opens the bag and retrieves his shield his gaze wanders for a second, he seems happy, relieved, almost as his pain has disappeared. The little green hands fit the armor fast, the metal seems to flow and encase him in a second skin. With rapid and practiced movements he then applies a black ash to it, making the metal lose its brightness. Soon he is ready, the shield resting at his back and the spear in his hands.

For those unfamiliar his armor is of fine goblin craftmanship. Functional, simple and plain, it is not embellished but polished to a point that would require strong acids or magic. He doesn't wear a helmet, for it was lost in the last expedition of the undercity. His spear is also functional, just a shaft of wood ended with a long straight blade. The shield though has more decoration, shaped as an inverted tear it bears a glyph. The bust of a dragon shines with notes of silver and red in the outlines.

-Let's go.

There is more strength in his voice now that he once again wears armor and he steps in the undercity only rarely using his spear to help his steps.

The vowels of the earth below are unusual. Many of you have been on caves before this is nothing like that. The corridor to the undercity appears to have been cut with a knife in a perfect square. As if some old forgotten god had decided to carve the earth below Alensia. The corridor is exactly ten steps long and it is so as long as you can see. The walls are straight and mostly made out of stone. In some points bricks or wood cover an imperfection or an erosion, but so close to the gate those are rare. The ceiling is as flat as the ground, and certainly much more even than the masonry common in Alensian floors.

The air here is far from viced or cold. In fact it is actually warm, humid, and seems to make you sweat a bit more than a balmy summer day. The first steps are as clean as the ground before the gate, but soon dust appears in the ground. Dust that has been unsettled recently for this is a transitioned area and people pass through here. As you advance you find corridors that cross the one you are walking through appear. They cross it in a perfectly perpendicular line, as if someone had delimited a nice grid. In the middle of the crossing there appears to be a thirty foot by thirty foot room.

The directions to get to Kairn's Last Stand, the final destination of your journey aren't that difficult. You need to continue in this straight corridor for almost an hour, till you encounter one corridor that crosses it diagonally, and from there you should be all set. The whole trip shouldn't take more than eight hours in total. Of course that is the theory and the gnashing noises that you hear far ahead the corridor bring back to mind the old motto, no theory survives the contact with the enemy.

[Archmage1]

Noting Tak's evident inability to be on time, Tarith nods when everyone has finally gathered at the Gorgon's gate.
"Shall we depart then?"
Without waiting for a response, he heads off to the gate, pausing when the goblin receives his equipment back, and looking at Tak, clearly concerned about the goblin.

As they wander through the tunnels in the undercity, Tarith, though he has seen them before, can't help but to marvel at them once more. Such an incredible feat, done so long ago.

When he hears the gnashing ahead, he slows down, and studies the bare corridor, hoping that there might be some way to hide. However, as he expected, the corridor disappointed.

He pauses, and turns back.
<<Can any of you turn invisible, and investigate that? There is no where to hide in these corridors.>>

[JanusJones]

"Marching order?" Yakuma's laconic drawl delivers the question in tones that would sound appropriate asking whether anyone would care for a bourbon

"I'm comfortable scouting. Would anyone care to join me?"

[Archmage1]

"I can avoid most, but... I am not a dedicated scout, just a dabbler. If no one else can, I will, but..."

His voice trails off uncertainly. While he is better than most at stealth, he knows that there are many that are better.

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak grins. "I'd be happy to help," he says. "Surgat's a talented scout on his own, mind, but I think it would be better if he stayed with our goblin friend."

He closes his eyes and his face goes blank as he focuses himself. The air around him is filled with an odd scent - it is difficult to place, but it seems to bring forth memories of childhood. He also pulls a strange looking crystal from his bag and fingers it thoughtfully. The colors of his cloak and boots seem to fade slightly and blend in with the world around him.

He looks around appraisingly. "Not bad," he says. "But it's still a bit brightly lit for my tastes." He moves his hand with a flourish, and a small and twisted candle appears there. Another flourish, and it lights - but the flames burn black. Instead of light, shadows spread out from the candle, bathing the area around him with darkness.

"Much better," he says, and seems to disappear into the shadows.



Psionically focused.
Manifesting detect hostile intent (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/psionic/powers/detectHostileIntent.htm)... for the next 70 minutes, he detects the presence of any hostile creatures within thirty feet of him and the direction to them. He also cannot be surprised or flat-footed by any creatures not immune to mind-affecting, and can make sense motive checks as a free action. (Works through to up to three feet of stone, an inch of lead, or six feet of wood/dirt.)
Manifesting chameleon via dorje for a +10 enhancement bonus to Hide.
Casting the [b]black candle[/i] fundamental, using the dark option.


Hide: [roll0]
Move Silently: [roll1]

[JanusJones]

Yakuma raises his hands and steps back.

"I'd hate to inconvenience an expert. I possess no such powers - I leave it to you, ser."

[thethird]

Whatever is making the noises is either more than 30 feet away or not hostile.

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat mutters, "Back into the belly of the beast I see. No matter, let's get a move on. I've heard these sounds before...I know not what they mean, but they haven't bothered me as of yet. I'm glad we have those good at scouting this journey though."

He looks around, glad he has bound the spirit of tenebrous this day. While he hates darkness, perfect darkvision has its uses. Though the expedition they were planning was shorter than the previous one, he couldn't help but wonder how many of his companions would survive this journey.

[JanusJones]

Yakuma nods to Ira'hat, then takes position behind Tak.

"Lead on."

[Archmage1]

Tarith leans up against the wall, waiting for the scouts to return.

[-Jynx-]

Darnus glares forward. The undercity was filled with many monstrosities he wished to cleanse of this world. "How sure are you that you can stalk up on something in the dark, that lives in the dark?" Darnus asked almost mockingly.

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak shrugs, though his gestures are obscured by the darkness. "I've made a habit of sneaking up on things that think they can't be snuck up on," he says. "You can hide from anything if you try hard enough. In fact, things that rely too heavily on extraordinary senses are in many ways easier prey for me, as they tend to assume such senses are infallible."


Ring of the Darkhidden = immune to darkvision
Darkstalker = Hide is effective against blindsight, blindsense, scent and tremorsense

[JanusJones]

Yakuma raises an eyebrow, but doesn't look back at the Judge.

"If you'd like to lead, Judge, please, be our guest. Personally, I'd prefer to trust the man on his talents - though if someone is to mistakenly offend an undercity denizen, perhaps you'd prefer it to be you, not him?"

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat snorted.

"Let the man lead. He may be as sneaky as he says. If it turns out something in the darkness sees and consumes him, we'll know he was wrong." Ira'hat grinned. Let him continue his bravado, he may truly be as good as he claims to be. Though the ones in the front are often the first to die...

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak sneaks forward into the darkness, all his senses focused on detecting the presence of hostile creatures.

[thethird]

As Tak advances the noises keep a steady and clear source. Soon his eyes adjust to the darkness and his hostile sense shows what lies ahead. Four catlike creatures, are playfully tearing apart the rest of some humanoid bodies. As they claws ripe the leather armor below them clouds of misty gas erupt from it and the felines swiftly avert their faces. That seems to be the source of the noise, that once up close sounds like a brimming kettle. At their paws lie several discarded leather clothes that seem to have been discarded and forgotten. The creatures themselves are peculiar, you have seen lions before, majestic animals that some time they bring for overseas for the enjoyment of the Alensian crowds. This ones though are smaller, and appear to be more... perfect. As if somehow someone had refined the idea of a lion and turned into a monster. Or perhaps Lions were just bastard children of the creatures ahead. Behind them a feminine figure covered in tokens, feathers, claws, fangs, roots, flowers, and other more esoteric materials is holding a dagger and carving something on what appears to be a breathing mask. Her hands move fast and sure, and the metal tool almost whistles with each movement, there is movement in all of her, for her hair seems restless moving in an air that does not blow to the rhythm of a tune that does not play.

[Piggy Knowles]

Taking care to hold his breath until he is several paces away, Tak silently retreats to the others.

"There's definitely something up there," he says. "Something odd. Something I don't fully understand. There's a woman there - at least I think it was a woman - all done up in feathers and plants. She's got four... lions? Gods, I was never particularly good at identifying beasts. They looked like lions, but different. They were tearing into bodies. Humanoid bodies. And there was some sort of mist or gas escaping the bodies as the lions tore into them. The woman seemed to be fashioning some kind of mask to help her breathe."

He shakes his head. "It was odd, to say the least," he says. He laughs. "Anyone want to get a closer look?"

[Archmage1]

Tarith, considering this information, tries to think about what these could be.

[roll0] Know: nature

"Well... Is there a way that we can avoid them, or are we going to need to go through them?"

[JanusJones]

"What with all the ripping and tearing, I'd hazard a closer look might involve more than a casual chat. I vote for stealth and surprise - those of us who can - and the rest to follow directly on our signal."

"Unless someone wants to volunteer to chat?"

Yakuma's hands move in complex signs.

<<I'll take right if you take left. Who will join us?>>

[Archmage1]

<<That makes sense. I will follow behind. It is possible, however, that she might want to talk. Or maybe not.>>

[JanusJones]

<<Usually if I want to chat, I avoid mutilating bodies. Then again, customs differ.>>

[-Jynx-]

Darnus sighs dejectedly "Allow me then to provoke them and test their power. When the time suits you, strike from the shadows" Darnus withdraws his bow nd whispers divine words onto himself.

Casting Heroism and Shield of Faith in that order unless I need to react sooner. I'm assuming I'll have at least 2 standard actions worth of preparation before advancing :P

[Mishkov]

"I'm not one for sneaking, but I can be hard to see," Ira'hat explains as darkness surrounds him. "I will stay a good distance behind Darnus and support your efforts as needed."

Deeper darkness from Tenebrous aura activated.

[Archmage1]

<<I can fight at longer ranges as well. 60 feet or so.>>

[JanusJones]

<<In my experience, it's best to strike first, provoke later. If you can restrain yourself, Judge, perhaps you'll allow us to make a coordinated strike before you reveal yourself? Though I'm certain your power is impressive, one hit from the shadows is usually less effective than several at once.>>

<<Also, there's the question of where to focus our efforts. I recommend we eliminate the woman first - there's a fair chance she has some manner of mystical power.>>

[-Jynx-]

Darnus moves forward after his spells disregarding Yakumas suggestion.

His hands quickly sign: <<Should you care to take refuge in the shadows I recommend doing so now>> Darnus closes his eyes a moment focusing intently before opening them again, his eyes giving off a feint yellow glow as he peers into the darkness ahead

Using one use of my adaptation for Darkvision and Natural AC +2 for 10 min. Once combat actually starts I will be using my judgement power (Immediate action, lasts all combat) as well for +4 Dmg and +3 AC. Will be readying my attack and will release once the others hide.

[JanusJones]

Before moving into position, Yakuma's hand flash for a moment, a bemused expression on his face.

<<How long should we wait before stepping in? He seems to have something to prove, and it would be ill-mannered to interrupt him before he does so.>>

He flashes a white grin in his dark face before ducking into the shadows.

Hide: [roll0]
Move Silently: [roll1]
Invoking my ancestral blade's power - hidden moon - to wreathe myself in clouds.

... which is a fancy way of saying: "go go smoking weapon!" :smallwink:

[Archmage1]

Tarith, sticking to what little shadows are there, tries to hide behind(well behind) Yakuma's cloud, around 60 feet back.
<<We will know, I suspect. If it goes poorly, we come in.>>

[roll0] hide
[roll1] move silently

[Piggy Knowles]

"<<I may sneak forward to get a better look while he goes,>>" Tak signs. "<<I'll notify Surgat if there's any trouble, to call forward the rest of you. I won't engage unless I have to - I just want to make sure we're positioned to help if those beasts become more than Darnus bargained for.>>"

Sneak forward a safe distance behind Darnus, keeping him in my sights. When I get to where I can see the woman, I'll begin studying her for a dire strike.

[thethird]

The cats lay lazily in the ground and the woman seems to be finished with the mask, which instead of donning she ties to one of the hooks in her belt. She then produces a small tuning fork with which she hits the rocks below her. She doesn't seem pleased and after a second starts singing a merry tune. As she does another voice joins her, a voice deep and sour as if it was coming from the other side of the grave. In truth it is coming from another of her belt trinkets, a small severed head witch blackened leather skin which despite not having lungs seem to be singing.

With her voice she gestures the lions to stand and they start to sniff the air around them while moving forward.

[Archmage1]

Seeing all of this, but not wanting to murder someone for being odd, Tarith walks out, carefully, and then calls out, his voice bright, although he is clearly wary.

"Hello!"


Readying an action to use his eldritch beam, should one of them get within 10 feet, and attack. (free + standard)

[-Jynx-]

Darnus looks at Tarith "Do not waste breath on the ilk of this earth" he said as he takes a deep breath "May your judgement be swift" he exhaled before unleashing a volley of arrows at the woman.

[Archmage1]

Tarith looks shocked at Darnus's blatant attack.
"What are you doing, Darnus! While she might have attacked, she also might not have. Now... now you have committed us to battle."

[Piggy Knowles]

Tak remains in the shadows, but watches the lions as they move, preparing to catch them as they come forward.

Readying an Entangling Ectoplasm to manifest at the first lion who charges any of us.

[Mishkov]

Ira'hat silently cursed to himself. So much talk of being sneaky and being prepared and ambushing their foes and this fool just walks up and starts shooting arrows.

He begins an incantation, he has mists of his own and things that bite and claw that he can use...

If we have a surprise round/Ira'hat can cast before the lions and woman move, cast Arctic Haze (http://dndtools.eu/spells/frostburn--68/arctic-haze--1235/) centered on the woman. Hopefully then people can ambush them as they appear. Scratch that--entangle is clearly the better choice.

If after the lions charge in on everyone, I'll either spirit jaws the woman or kelpstrand the lions.

[AngryCyc]

Felip also readies himself for battle... he prepares an arrow on his bow and waits further as everyone else...

[thethird]

As the voice of Tarith resounds in the corridor an unfriendly growl answers him, making the curse of Darnus almost unheard. As the arrows fly through the corridor they impact hard on the woman, two of them hit her in the chest, while another one scratch her arm, almost missing the target. Perhaps the surprise made her unable to dodge properly. the force of the arrows would be sufficient to kill many others, but somehow she still stands.

With a shout of primal fury she motions the lions to advance, those charge with an unexpected swiftness. As they advance the first is suddenly swarmed in sticky goo, which greatly reduce its speed. Its companions though seem to be unaware of the stopped one, for they are running on the loose.

The woman doesn't stand back, moving after one of the lions that stands slightly at the back. Raising her hand in mystic gestures, she makes a totem erupt from the ground at the side of Darnus, it is wrapped in foul fumes that soon make the judicator cough in displeasure. Her hands continue moving and with a shout she makes a cloud of wind swarm around the small fort from where the party is hiding. Soon no one can see anything as tiny particles of dust bite into their skin, but the claws of the lions caress the skin of Darnus all the same.

Blockade cast at Darnus side, haboob cast in the fort, cloudy conjuration effect on Darnus and Tarith (both are sickened) others take [roll0] damage due to the dust. Creatures at the other side of the dust have concealment (20% if adjacent 50% if not).
Lions attacking Darnus:
First lion: Claw[roll1] miss [roll2] damage[roll3], Claw[roll4] miss [roll5] damage[roll6] Rake[roll7] miss [roll8] damage[roll9] Bite[roll10] miss [roll11] damage[roll12]
Second lion: Claw[roll13] miss [roll14] damage[roll15], Claw [roll16] miss [roll17] damage[roll18], Rake[roll19] miss [roll20] damage[roll21], Bite[roll22] miss [roll23] damage[roll24] If the lion rolls below 20 on their miss check they automatically miss
Other than Tak and Darnus you can use your readied actions (I entangled one of the lions already and Darnus full attacked to the face)

[Archmage1]

Tarith, who had hoped for a peaceful resolution, with both parties moving on peacefully, is terribly disappointed by the sudden attack by his side. He is even more disappointed by the cloud of stinging sand, forcing him to close his eyes, although he does see the blockade going up. Then, strangely, another cloud appears around him, and he can feel his gauntlet warming, and he knows, without even looking down, that the strange runes are once more glowing, even as it's whispers increase in intensity.
Cursing under his breath, he moves quickly, darting out from the back of the small fort, and heading around to the side, barely managing to move fast enough to see the strange woman.
Still, as soon as he sees her, he extends his hand, and the runes flare, as a brilliant white beam extends from the tip of his finger, flows down his drawn sword, and flies at her, before bouncing towards the lion next to her. As he lowers his hand, a beam of light seems to appear, extending from the tip of his sword, leaving him holding what seemed to be a truly gigantic sword, of strange make.


[roll0] touch attack vs woman
[roll1] damage, untyped.
Also, dc 19 will save or be shaken(not if immune to fear)(Frightful Eldritch chain)
Bouncing to the Lion(Only if first hits)
[roll2](Did better with knowledge devotion)
Same will save.
1/2 damage.(So 15)

Tarith is wielding a reach weapon, so he can take AoO's, if offered.

[Mishkov]

Annoyed by her mastery of the winds, Ira'hat lets loose his entangling growths upon the battlefield as he moves out of the dust storm.

Move to Y52

Cast entangle on R58-AH58-R66-AH58

DC17 ref or entangled and needs to make a DC20 STR or escape artist to move at half speed. Otherwise, can just move at half speed.

[JanusJones]

Yakuma moves with surprising speed, covering twice the distance most men would in the same amount of time.

Suddenly next to the lion guarding the priestess, he is wreathed in smoke.

It's hard to make out what happens next, but a perceptive observer might have caught his arm looping out, almost as if to pet the over-sized cat.

Then he disappears.

Moving to AB 23 (60 ft. move).
White-Raven Strike To Hit (flat-footed foe): [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] + 5
Iaijutsu Focus check: [roll3]
Extra damage based on check result:
{table]Check Result | Bonus Damage Dice | Damage

30—34 | +5d6 | [roll4]

35—39 | +6d6 | [roll5]

40—44 | +7d6 | [roll6]

45—49 | +8d6 | [roll7][/table]

TOTAL: 43 damage.

Finish by using a swift action to disappear using Cloak of Invisibility.

[Piggy Knowles]

From his place in the shadows, Tak continues studying the woman. Almost absent-mindedly, he begins gathering the darkness around him and shaping it. Soon he has an arrow formed from the shadows. He mimes shooting a bow, and the arrow of dusk flies toward the woman.

As he strikes, he visualizes the odd behavior of the lions and the strange mist rising from the bodies. Forming a question in his mind, he feeds some of his mental power into the strike.


Arrow of Dusk + Dire Strike
Ranged touch [roll0]
Deals [roll1] + [roll2] nonlethal damage

Spending 4pp on a dire augment for mind interrogation (get the answer to one question, no save): "What is the mist rising from those bodies?")