A Festering Tranquil IC

[TheDragonmaster]

The mighty river Ciles stretches for hundreds upon thousands of miles across Avia before reaching the sea in the vast delta controlled by the city-state of Cileum. If one were to focus ones attention to this area, one would find the various distributaries teething with rafts, barges, and small boats transporting goods and people between the ports, docks and smugglers' hideouts at the coast and the great Alabaster City to the north or beyond. Were one to single out one such vessel, chances are good it would be a barge propelled by rowers. Chances would not be that great, however, to find one transporting mainly people rather than goods, and rather slim to find one travelling upstream at this late an hour.

A mere six miles from the city of Cileum, traversing a smaller distributary, one finds such a barge though, headed from Autsilos. Its main cargo is a motley bunch of figures, which when it comes to figures is what to expect in such parts of the world, spread across the deck trying to pass the time as the rowers toil away. The captain of the barge, as she styles herself, sits complacently at the rudder and looks mere moments away from dozing off. The barge glides though the placid, murky river with a soft rippling sound, and the chirps and squawks of the rainforest, while never quite quiet, are on the wane. Night has already started to fall, and with scarcely an hour left on the journey, their arrival should award them the sight of the last rays of the sun falling on the famous white walls.


Without any warning, a hail of arrows strikes the crew and passengers, who suddenly erupt in panicked screaming and scrambling for cover.

"Bandits! Ambush!"

One of the oarsmen and a human passenger collapse immediately when hit by short, heavily fletched arrows. Another oarsman is hit but remains conscious, as are the demonic-looking scaled humanoid and the hulking half-giant.

"Stay low and keep tight!"

The captain urges everyone to take cover while trying to spot the source of the barrage, scrambling to pick up her crossbow and load it. The oarsmen follow her command, but some of the passengers instead spring to their feet, looking around for signs of movement.

Victor get up to determine the direction of the archer(s), but fails to see anything of value.
Lucius takes 3 points of damage from the arrow that hits him squarely in the shoulder, and feels the wound go numb, almost painless, in an instant.
Lucan takes 4 points of damage as the arrow lodges in his hip, and feels the wound quickly go numb, almost painless. When looking out for the assailants, he spots movement in the undergrowth on the left-hand side of the river, a good hundred feet ahead of the current position of the barge.
Pangeon spots movement in the undergrowth on the left-hand side of the river, a good hundred feet ahead of the current position of the barge.
Atticus spots movement in the foliage on the left side of the river a good hundred feet ahead, and catches a glimpse of what looks like green scales.
Now would be a great time for anyone to clarify the state of their character in any such clarification is necessary. This includes what spells are prepared, which manoeuvres are readied and what stances are active, what gear is worn (yes, that is completely and utterly directed towards Rofltrollcopter) or at the ready if not otherwise clear, and so on. And no, you do not keep shields strapped to your arm and weapons in hand for hours on end unless you are paranoid beyond all hope or warforged/non-living.

A short, visual description of your character might be a good idea as you describe your initial actions, giving an idea of how said character (which I write even though it is safe for me to use "he" in this case, since they are all male) was spending the hours on the barge.

For anyone concerned with the actual layout of the situation, the barge is roughly 30 feet long by 15 feet wide, with the deck only a few feet above the river surface, and has two sets of three rowers per side. Apart from the captain, the six active rowers, and the two rowers currently resting, the barge is populated by the party and another six travellers. The barge has a mast, but the sails have been stowed away for lack of favourable winds. At the back, a tarpaulin covers a few crates, presumably containing supplies or goods to eke out a little more profit. At your current location, the river measures approximately 40 feet across, and the barge travels at a speed of roughly 50 feet per round.

[Battlemage]

Lucius, the Black Claw, winged terror of the bloody sands, was no stranger to waiting, or the boredom that comes with it. Back in the arena his life had consisted of hours of idle time, interspersed with short moments of adrenaline-pumping violence. Besides fighting, and training to fight, there hadn’t been much to pass the time. Despite all that, he was not what people would call a patient man. He’d never gotten used to the long periods of inactivity.

The half-dragon orc had spent most of the journey at the back of the barge, next to the cargo, where there was enough space for his seven-and-a-half-feet tall muscular body. Nobody bothered him back here. Other people generally tended to avoid him, eying his sharp claws, large wings and lashing tail with suspicion or wariness. His obsidian-scaled skin, black martial artist’s outfit, and blackened steel chain shirt give his figure a sinister appearance. The only touch of color comes from his silver glowing eyes, and the spectral shapes of silver light that his inborn magic creates around his body, currently forming a ghostly belt that suffuses his scaled skin with dim light, and a demon face mask that looks at the world with cold disdain. Bursts of rainbow color spring forth around his figure, seemingly at random, with no discernable source. The hilt of a large and unadorned black blade shows over his right shoulder, looking worn but well-kept, a survivor of countless battles. It is accompanied by a quiver of javelins on his other shoulder.

Lucius had gone through his training routines multiple times over the course of the voyage, flowing through his forms with movements that seemed both savage and controlled, ignoring the crew and the other passengers completely. The last hour was spent resting, his large body splayed on the deck of the barge, his back leaned against a wooden crate.

As the arrows fall, he is on his feet in a flash, blade in hand, his arena instincts guiding him wrongly in this situation, driving him into the open in search of a foe to kill. He is rewarded with a length of steel-tipped wood piercing his shoulder, the familiar bloom of pain lasting only an instant before the wound goes numb. Probably not a good sign. He looks around, cold fury raging inside, but as so often happens, the random flashes of light distract him too much to make out anything useful in the darkness.

He roars a wordless challenge into the night, before he turns to the others on the boat. Not lowering his arena-accustomed voice, he shouts: “Someone point me toward the killing! Where are these cowards?”

Realizing that the enemies are likely outside the barge, and therefore out of range of his blade, reason overtakes arena conditioning, and he moves into the cover of the crates, waiting for an opportunity to start his killing work.




Lucius, the Black Claw of the Bloody Sands
AC: 18 (22 this round) HP: 21/24
Soulmeld effects: Low-Light Vision
Currently active stance: -

Move Action: Move into cover behind the crates at the back, drawing his greatsword as he moves.
Free Action: Shout
Standard Action: Total defense

Clarifications:
Lucius is wearing his monk's outfit and his chain shirt, and has his greatsword and javelins sheated on his back. He's got all the stuff marked as worn on his sheet on him, except for the backpack, which he is not wearing while on the ship. He currently has no stance active. His soulmelds are Wormtail Belt (1 essentia invested) and Basilisk Mask (0 essentia invested).

Is the DR 1 from Earthsilk Jersey already factored into the 3 damage Lucius takes?

In other news, playing Lucius makes me feel like Minsc from the Baldur's Gate series. You point, I punch!

[TheDragonmaster]

I managed to forget rolling initiative for anyone expect my own crew, and going on to the first round, yet still expecting replies... rather absent-minded of me. I must have been more tired than I recall. Here is the current initiative order:



20
Pangeon



DM Action


18
Lucius


14
Atticus



DM Action


8
Lucan


0
Victor


Noone of you got to act in the surprise round. For the sake of avoiding unnecessary retcon as a consequence of my level of brain function several hours after midnight, Lucius acts at initiative count 21, just before Victor, on the first turn only, before things return to normal.


Is the DR 1 from Earthsilk Jersey already factored into the 3 damage Lucius takes?
Yep.

[Anachronity]

Among the vessel's myriad crowd drifts a curious sort of fellow. He is seen to be chatting merrily to the other passengers, who regard him warily, when he is seen at all.

Their suspicion is not so unwarranted, for even were this fellow's harmless smile and sharp green elven attire to distract someone from his black irises and deep gray skin, or make the slight red sheen of his charcoal-black hair go unnoticed, they would not ease the ominous darklight glow of the halo of inky sigils suspended about his head. Nor would they explain to satisfaction the piece of umbral radiance that he often holds in his hand during the daylight hours and conceals beneath a dirty cloth only for the convenience of others.

But their suspicion also does not bother Victor; not in these deepening hours with the forest beside him. Feeling at home, yet safe from its dangers, Victor would soon only feel the former.

Never one for attentiveness, he had been eagerly discussing their destination with a half-giant whose life experiences had been similar to his, and whose powers were similarly strange. It was then that he saw with surprise and amazement that his new friend could also sprout arrows from his flesh!

Realizing the truth only moments later, he reacts to danger as the Witchstone Clearing has taught him to: by seeking refuge in the shadows.

Move: take cover and Hide in Plain Sight
Hide: [roll0]
Footpaddin': [roll1]
Standard: ready an action to Eldritch Blast the first in-range creature that Victor sees on the shoreline

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

The second oarsmen on the left-hand side of the barge was a lithe catfolk; working away to propel the craft slowly forward. An honest days labor he thought as the day was slowly coming to an end. The breeze off the river water did much to keep him cool as he sweated through his task. Suddenly, several short-shafted arrows sprouted around the boat, hitting some crewmen and passengers. A loud yell emitted from the rear of the barge as Pangeon realized what was happening.

Bandits

Pangeon immediately pulled his oar into the boat before beginning to put on his lightweight chain shirt he kept near his station. He sees movement in the rushes about a hundred feet ahead. 'Port side! Attackers in the bushes!' he manages before throwing his shirt on.

Move action(?) to pull the oar into the boat.
Free action to inform everyone within earshot.
1 minute to put on his chain shirt (10 rounds)

[TheDragonmaster]

The black-scaled hulk manages to draw more fire, being hit by three arrows, though they seem to do little to stop him in his tracks. The half-giant takes another hit, as does the captain, who falls unconscious before having time to fire a single bolt. A single arrows whistles past into the bank on the other side of the river.

Victor spots three or four creatures in the woods on the left side of the river with the help of the oarsman's outcry, he can not be quite sure at this distance. He should be in range to return fire in mere seconds, if not get a very clear shot.
Lucius takes another point of damage from an arrow to the chest and feels the same immediate numbness around the wound. Two more arrows hit him in the upper body but with too little force to penetrate through the maille links, his coarse jersey and his skin. With the help of the oarsman's directions, he manages to spot the rustling of leaves in the jungle ahead.
Lucan takes another 3 points of damage from a second arrow and feels the same numbing sensation as before. After looking where the oarsman pointed out, he locates six small humanoids with green and black scales wielding short, powerful bows.
Pangeon manages to take cover from the attackers behind the railing while starting to don his maille shirt. Two of the left-side oars are gliding slowly into the water, but the other oarsmen follow suit and drag theirs in as well.
Atticus now sees three or four short, scaled creatures wielding bows, roughly where he spotted the first one.
It is now Atticus' time to act.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Atticus was sitting near the front or the boat when the fight broke out. He was in a more contemplative mood then normal, and had not taken the time to meet any of the ship's crew or other passengers. Atticus was on a pilgramage to visit the Necropolis of Cileum. It was a holy site for the followers of Pluto, where many important figures had been buried. It also served as a stark reminder that regardless of one's power or prestige, everyone entered Lord Pluto's domain eventually.

Atticus is shocked when the first arrows fly at the boat. He sees motion at the left side of the stream where the attackers came from. His heart begins to pound. They were under attack! He looks around wildly as the arrows strike several people on the deck. He moves out into the open and calls for the Gods assistance. "Mercury, help protect these travelers." After he completes his spell, he points out the location of where he spotted the four bow wielding assailants. Four lizard people with bows right there!


Lore check on the creatures Atticus spotted [roll0]

Atticus does not have armor or weapons equipped right now. He wasn't expecting to get in a fight.

Move action: go to wherever he can get the most people with the bless spell
Standard action: cast bless
Free action: point out where Atticus spotted the creatures on the shore

[TheDragonmaster]

As the cleric stands up in the fore and brandishes his holy symbol, his blessing fills the hearts of those aboard with renewed fighting spirit. One of the oarsmen opens a latch to the storage beneath the floorboards and retrieves a crossbow, while another grabs the one the captain dropped, and together they crouch down against the portside railing and take aim.

One of the other passengers, a tall dark-skinned human, stands up with a bow in his hand and a quiver at his belt, which none of you can recall seeing him with during the journey, and fires an arrow into the forest edge, which causes an agitated outcry.

I assume you all know what Bless does, but to refresh your memories, you all have a +1 morale bonus to attack rolls and saves against fear effects now.

Since the barge is small enough to be easily covered by a Bless spell cast anywhere near its deck, I assume Atticus stays more or less where he is. I already made a Lore check for you by the way, which while not as atrociously bad as yours, still granted no useful insights.
It is now Lucan's time to act.

[blackwind1kaze]

HP 10/17AC 17 (4 Armor, 2 Shield, 1 Dex)Equipment Worn: Black Monk Robes, Black Cloak of Resist, Brown Healing Belt, MW Heavy Steel Shield, Mask of Sweet Air

Standing over 8 feet tall with a muscle build to match and ashen grey skin with a weird black mask on his face, the Half-giant quickly looked around the boat at his temporary allies and crew before fully turning his attention to the six child-like sized creatures firing at them. With a couple of grunts, Lucan pulled out the arrow in his left side of his hip and the other in his left shoulder. Whatever coating the arrow was, it apparently helped numb the pain of pulling it out too but was that really a good thing his wondered to himself.

Focusing now on defense at hand until they got a bit closer to the dock, Lucan quickly grabbed his shield off his back before yelling out, "Let justice be done with the Heaven's armor!" before a thin light blue outline appeared around Lucan covering him head to toe.

Actions:
Free: Pulling out arrows.
Move: Equip Shield = +2 (Shield) to AC.
Standard: Spend 1 PP = +4 (Armor) to AC for 2 Hours.

everything like AC and HP and such above is updated to reflectmy actions. Also, the 10 ft. Pole and my other items would be below where i'd be sleeping.

[TheDragonmaster]

The green-shrouded man, veiled in shadow, makes a sudden gesture, quick but precise, and hurls a ray of pure darkness into the group of snipers. Although noone of the barge quite sees the projectile hit, the action is followed by a loud shriek of pain that swiftly fades into a wet gurgle. The vicious snarling and hissing that emerges from the target's vicinity in response to the counter-attack seems to suggest that the assailants are far from dissuaded from fighting on, however.

That would be Victor taking his readied action as the barge just floats in range from its momentum. This assumes, for convenience, that he was positioned in the fore (so now he de facto is).

@Anachronity: I hope the artistic licence taken in the description does not conflict with any ideas you have about your character, I have little data to work with. Also, I hope you do not mind me rolling for you to speed things along (especially as I rolled extremely well for you).

@blackwind1kaze: The boat is a barge and has no space below deck apart from some storage, and even if the sails and rigging was retrieved, Lucan would only fit in that space with great difficulty, thus it is more likely his equipment is on deck like that of everyone else (including the crew). The trip takes half a day and yours arrives (or was at least planned to arrive) at sunset, so there is no real need to sleep unless you are nocturnal (though no one would care much if you did).

To reiterate the point, the barge has now floated onward such that the group of enemies are now about 60 ft. ahead of the bow. It is slowing down slightly, drifting upstream without propulsion, and veering slightly to the right (now placing it approximately 15 ft. from the shore on the left, and closer to 10 ft. from the right-side shore).

It is now Pangeon's turn.

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

Hearing the cries of the scoundrels on the riverbanks, Pangeon hurries to get his chain shirt on.

Spend the round pulling the mythril over his head. 1.5 rounds spent total.

[TheDragonmaster]

The ambushers seem to change their priorities somewhat after their targets start returning fire. They no longer make any effort to hide, instead focusing on keeping their distance to the barge while firing, revealing to all watchers five humanoids, no taller than halflings, scaled in yellow greens and blacks.

They additionally seem to change their priorities when it comes to the choice of targets. The human archer barely dodges an arrow intended for him, but the spellcasters are not so lucky. The priest gasps as he is hit twice in the side, while the illuminan takes an arrow deep in the chest just before another pierces his throat and he passes out, falling over on the deck like a ragdoll. The throat wound is bleeding profusely.

Victor takes 14 damage and 2 points of Con damage from the two well-placed arrows, lowering his maximum hp to 9, placing him at -5, unconscious and dying.
While struggling to quickly armour himself, Pangeon notices that unlike the arrows fired before, which were fletched with all black feathers, these all have a prominent streak of yellow, which seems too regular to be a coincidence.
Atticus takes 6 damage and 1 point of Con damage. The arrows cause an intense, burning pain, quite unlike anything the priest has felt before. While struggling to stay focused in the face of danger, he notices the curious detail that unlike all arrows he has seen fired at them before by the snipers, which were fletched with only black feathers, these have a single yellow feather worked in.
It is now Lucius' turn.

[Battlemage]

From the corner of his eye, Lucius sees someone else felled by arrows, but pays it no attention. Death had long ago become something to accept with indifference. Now that their assailants have given up the attempt to hide, even Lucius, hindered by the ragged wound above his right eye, can see them clearly. The cut, inflicted months ago, was only healing very slowly, the scabs regularly breaking open again, obscuring his vision with trickles of blood. It also brought frequent headaches, that limited his hearing with a sharp buzzing noise in his ears, and made his temper even shorter than usual.

Having identified his targets, the half-dragon explodes into motion again, jumping into the river in a sinuous motion. He glides through the water like he was born to do so, his obsidian scales giving little resistance to the currents. Swiftly he swims in the direction of the attackers, intent to pay back the pain of their arrows tenfold.

I was getting bored anyway, he thought, with a sarcastic grin on his face.


Using a run action while swimming to move 120 feet through the river, to get as close to the attackers as possible. Preferably he ends the turn at the closest point to the attackers that is still in the water, giving him some cover from more arrows.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Time seems to freeze for Atticus as he sees the stranger drop to the deck Gods no.. no.. He scrambles over to the Illumian side and begins fervently praying, paying no attention to his own injuries. "Lord Pluto, it is not yet this man's hour. Turn him aside from your realm and restore his life to its full potential"


move action: move to Victor
swift action: spend 5 turn undead attempts to cast a quickened cure light wounds from spontaneously converting longstrider
[roll0]

If it is enough to revive him to consciousness, Atticus will take his standard action to pull out his light crossbow.

If Victor is not revived by the spell, Atticus will take his standard action to cast cure light wounds by converting sanctuary
[roll1]

[TheDragonmaster]

As the cleric kneels down beside the illuminan, his prayers cause shining flecks of light to race over the fallen man's body, coalescing at the wounds, closing them tens of thousands of times faster than could be considered natural. This second display of divine influence on board stirs up some commotion, as people, both oarsmen and other travellers, beg for the cleric to magically restore the other fallen.

"Please, help Julia, she is dying!"
"Save the captain!"
"Help me, I am hit!"

The two uninjured crossbow-wielding oarsmen takes their shots at the now exposed targets though, as does the human archer right before crouching down beside them to take cover behind the railing. They seem to hit two targets, who in spite of this remain standing.

As Victor regains consciousness, it is not only the sensations of light and sound that returns to him, but also intense, burning pain in his entire upper body and parching thirst.
Julia is the name of the fallen oarsman.
It is now Lucan's turn.

[blackwind1kaze]

HP 10/17AC 17 (4 Armor, 2 Shield, 1 Dex)Equipment Worn: Black Monk Robes, Black Cloak of Resist, Brown Healing Belt, MW Heavy Steel Shield, Mask of Sweet Air

Lucan looks down at his items on the deck floor for a moment and quickly said "stay", before looking back to the end of the barge. Lucan then ran and attempted to jump off the gunwale.

Fail = Pissed off at his own clumsiness, Lucan tries a second time hoping for a better result.
Swim = Lucan hates the fact that he didn't get as far as he wanted and forces himself to finish swimming to land.
Land = Lucan looks at the enemy while his right hand slowly forms a mind blade saying, "though Heaven looks down upon us all, I stand equal to my blade as it gets ready to send you to Pluto!."

Actions:
Move: Acrobatic Jump off the barge DC 10 - [roll0]
Standard:
A) if the first jump check fails - [roll1]
B) if the jump lands me in the water - [roll2]
C) if i make it on dry land, I will Summon my mind blade.

[Anachronity]

Victor awakens with a dry gasp, the confusion from his unexpected journey to the brink of death written clearly on his face.

"Wh-"

he then remembers his situation, and moves his shaking hands quickly through a brief gesture before touching the deck, shrouding the world around him in shadows.

Standard: cast darkness on a nearby object, pending answers to what an "object" is.

Move: crawl 5' in a random direction while attempting to hide (is this possible?)
Hide: [roll0]
Move Silently (if needed): [roll1]

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

The Illumian falling to the deck in a gout of blood brings Pangeon up short. He throws his chain shirt on top of his pack and runs to where he knows there are crossbows stored on the boat.

Move action to drop his chain shirt.
Move action to go to crossbow storage.

[TheDragonmaster]

Four of the archers fire straight into the water at the submerged half-dragon at point blank range, before three of them run further along the coast and spread out a little while one of the two who stay behind rummages through a sack slung over the shoulder to retrieve a small glass phial, which it tosses to the other, who unstoppers it and drinks its entire content in a single gulp.

Suddenly, the entire world is wrenched out of view, as everyone on the barge as well as the swimmer feels an intense, mind-shattering screech coming from inside their heads, louder than any sound, the simultaneous feeling of burning heat and freezing cold. Most never get as far even as to reach for their heads, as everyone on board apart from the cleric and the archer seem overpowered by the mental assault, slouching down in a stupor and dropping whatever they were holding. A silence falls over the crowd who were so vocal only moments ago.

As the initial shock subsides, the travellers are treated to the horrifying sight of an only in part humanoid creature rising out of the water and dragging itself onto the deck. As it heaves itself aboard, muscles ripple beneath its oily, scaled skin, which looks grey and colourless in the darkness. It stands upright like a man and is dressed in a black leather chestplate, but its savage-looking claws look anything but human-like. The most prominent feature, however, protruding from the base of the creature's bald head, is the cluster of four thick, writhing tentacles where its mouth should be. As it scans the travellers on deck, a cold hatred emanates from its black eyes, and an otherworldly voice without sound is heard in the minds of the onlookers.

"Nothing but death awaits."

The creature boards the barge near its center starboard-side. It stands a mere step away from Atticus and Pangeon.

Victor is stunned for 4 rounds by the powerful mental attack.
Lucius takes 4 points of damage and 2 points of Constitution damage from the one arrow that strikes true. The pain he normally associates with being injured is supplemented by a deep, burning sensation spreading throughout his body. He has just enough time to consider this, and the eerie fact that the archers never speak a word, before almost immediately being overcome by the mental assault, managing barely to steel his mind against it (expending Moment of Perfect Mind, which I am assuming he would use at every available opportunity).
Lucan just barely sees the creature climbing aboard through the artificial darkness, but fear briefly touches his heart as he clearly perceives the characteristic silhouette of an illithid.
Pangeon is stunned for 2 rounds as he feels his mind being torn in half.
Atticus shakes off the assault on his senses relatively unscathed. He is sure he has read something about the kind of monstrosity he now lays eyes upon, but he can not remember any details to save his life... perhaps literally.
The barge is now about 15 feet downstream from the place in the river where Lucius is biding his time. It is still markedly veering to the right, now placing the starboard-most part of the bow a mere 5 feet from the shore.

It is now Lucius' turn.

[Battlemage]

Lucius gets hit by yet another arrow, and this one, in addition to the bloody wound it causes, seems to drain his energy away with claws of burning pain. Gritting his fangs against the pain and loss of lifeforce, he makes his way through the water and muddy terrain with brute force, closing in on his targets with heavy steps.

"You'll pay for this in blood", he hisses.

When he is only a few feet away, he coils his body into a spring, and then, obsidian wings opening and stretching to catch air, jumps the remaining distance to the archers in one powerful movement. The closer of the two is the half-dragon's chosen victim, heavy black blade descending onto the creature with inevitable purpose.



Move action: Moving 15 feet through difficult terrain to close in on the archer at 25 feet distance.
Swift action: Use Sudden Leap to close the distance. Since I did not get a running start of 20 feet, I should get 1 yard of vertical distance for every 2 DC, which means I'll need a result of 20 for the 10 feet of remaining distance. [roll0]
Standard action: Edited because I'm bad at D&D rules. Only the greatsword attack counts.
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll=tail slap damage]1d6+2[7roll]

Sadly I did not have a free action to shift into Punishing Stance, so the real pain will have to wait a round.

[TheDragonmaster]

On the shore, the half-dragon descends on the first of his foes, bringing his large sword down on the closest one at hand with a mighty swing, almost cleaving its arm and shoulder right off with a deep slash, barely missing the head and continuing down through the chest for a full foot. Blood gushes forth as the scaled being goes limp from the fatal blow with only a faint gurgle.

It is now Atticus' turn. Make it count.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Atticus is momentarily overwhelmed by the people calling out to him.

"Please, help Julia, she is dying!"
"Save the captain!"
"Help me, I am hit!"

He blinks and yells "I'll do what I can, hold on!" and then his mind is filled with pain. He recovers in time to see the unholy monstrosity climb onto the deck, and his heart is filled with fear. He shakes off the lingering aftereffects of the mental attack. He looks around and sees that he is one of the only people left standing on the ship's deck, and suddenly feels very alone. The monster suddenly speaks into his mind.

"Nothing but death awaits."

Atticus suddenly feels something besides fear: a sense of loathing for this ignorant, destructive thing standing before him. He was still scared, but the people on the ship had begged for his help. He could not back down now. Atticus pulls out his spear and faces down the monster. "Death holds no terror" he says calmly.


I'm assuming that all relevant knowledge checks have been rolled, including the bonus from collector of stories.

Move action: Pull out long spear
Take five foot to either move into range or to step away from the creature.
Standard action: attack [roll0]
damage: [roll1]

[TheDragonmaster]

The cleric steps back warily from the creature and stabs it right in its side with his spear. It turns to him, tentacles flailing wildly, and pulls the spear out of its body in one quick motion.

The brave action inspires the human archer, however, who charges the monster and aims a heavy strike with his robust bow against its head. In a fluid motion, far quicker than what one would have expected by looking at the creature, it dodges out of the way of the blow and simultaneously slices its attacker across the face and chest with its razor-sharp claws. The man opens his mouth as if about to scream, but passes out from shock before a sound escapes his lips.

Atticus again hears the words without voice creeping directly into his mind.

"Then accept your fate, fool, and meet oblivion without fear."
It is now Lucan's turn.

[blackwind1kaze]

HP 10/17AC 17 (4 Armor, 2 Shield, 1 Dex)Equipment Worn: Black Monk Robes, Black Cloak of Resist, Brown Healing Belt, MW Heavy Steel Shield, Mask of Sweet Air

With the run and jump from the Gunwale, Lucan barely made it to shore but managed to reach a more stable portion of dry land. Lucan looked back temporarily to the barge where he saw it coming aboard where the healer now battled with it currently. Lucan yelled at the people on the barge saying, "Be careful, that's an illithid!" Lucan then focused on the half dragon and archers before him as he used the powers of his mind to form a crystallized looking blade that seemed to have a slight swirl of a blue and purple-ish hue. With his shield out in front, Lucan then began to move closer to the first set of archers and the half dragon.

standard: form mind blade
Move: max speed toward closest archers.
Free: letting everyone on the barge know it's an illithid.

[TheDragonmaster]

As the half-giant rushes along the shore toward the half-dragon and the remaining archers through the tall, coarse reeds, he almost steps on the remains of one of the fallen enemies, laying face down on the sandy dirt.

The archers do not change tactics significantly in reaction to their latest casualty. The three that already have some distance between them and the half-dragon continue firing while backing off, hitting him in the back and the leg while he recovers from the very swing that felled their ally, while the one caught close backs off carefully for a few steps before running to rejoin his allies.

The barge, still veering heavily, finally beaches on the starboard river bank, accompanied by a drawn-out cracking sound as the two oars yet to be pulled in splinters and breaks, caught between hull and riverbed. While not particularly violent by any means, the crash still throws many of the passengers to the deck.

Shrouded in darkness, the creature pounces the cleric of Pluto, raking at his chest with razor-sharp claws and crushing with those horrid tentacles. The cleric dodges the first swing but is clamped in the steel grip of the second clawed hand, and while valiantly defending himself with the butt of his spear, he is bludgeoned by a swing to the head. The anguish can be seen in his eyes as the affront to nature attaches a tentacle to his temple, piercing the skin.

Victor and Pangeon spend their turns stunned.

Victor is stunned for 3 more rounds (and already prone).
The first arrow does not connect, getting stuck in the links of Lucius' maille shirt, but the two others do, dealing 5 points of damage and an additional point of Constitution damage. The burning sensation is getting stronger, to the point of almost feeling nauseating.
Pangeon is stunned for 1 more round, but manages to keep his footing.
Atticus barely manages to stay standing when the barge beaches. He takes a combined 6 damage from being pierced and from the tentacled slam, and is now grappled.

"Relax, fearless one, and let go of the world. It will be over very soon."
The four standing archers are now 60 ft. away from Lucius and about 90 ft. from Lucan.

It is now Lucius' turn.

[Battlemage]

Three more arrows stick from Lucius' scaled body, and the trickles of blood running down his body from the many wounds turn into streams. As the burning pain spreads through every inch of his body, the half-dragon smiles grimly. Barely keeping on his feet, weakened by poison and injured to the point of looming oblivion, he realizes that this might be his last fight after all.

"Always knew this would happen sooner rather than later. Though I'd imagined my death to be more dramatic than this."

But he was not quite dead yet, and there were still enemies ahead and steel in his hands. He fixes his silver gaze on one of the archers and levels his blade at him.

"You're joining me on the way to Orcus!"

With those words, he forces his battered and bleeding body into explosive motion, barreling down on his target in a running charge.


Full-round action: Charging the archer that gets me into the best position to threaten as many of the other archers as possible.
[roll0]
[roll1]
Swift action: Recover maneuvers.
Free action: Talk melodramatically.

blackwind1kaze, better get that Healing Belt warmed up and ready, I'm gonna need it. :smalltongue:

[TheDragonmaster]

The half-dragon runs just past the enemy who fled from him last turn, bringing his blade to bear in a wild strike against one of those who fired upon him the turn earlier. The buckler presented as a defense makes little difference to the overpowering slash, which cuts deep into the side of the scaled one, accompanied by the distinctive crack of ribs breaking. The half-dragon's prey falls over sideways from the force of the blow, seemingly unconscious.

The archer Lucius barely ran past to reach his foe is still within his threatened area. The two remaining are a short bit ahead of him.
It is now Atticus' turn.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Be careful, that's an illithid!

"... harpie feathers" Atticus mutters. He hadn't read much about them, there was a small section in a book of children's stories that he found in a dusty corner of the abbey library. As the tentacle pierced his head, he started to recall the faintest details of a particularly gruesome story...

While he grapples with the creature, he responds to the voice in his head "Not being afraid of something and willingly seeking it out are two entirely different concepts. All of us will enter Lord Pluto's domain eventually, even you, ancient one."

He gasps out in a panicked voice "Aquilo!" . This was the command word for the Anklets of Translocation he wore. He vanishes from the monster's grasp and reappears a few feet away from the monster.

He feels a moment of guilt, before the urgency of his situation forces him into action. "Virotutis!" , and thus he calls upon the magic of his healing belt. He then tries to put as much distance between the illithid and himself as he can. He brandishes his spear and snarls again. "To Tartarus with you!"


Swift action: activate anklets of translocation
standard action: healing belt: two charges [roll0]
move action: to get as much distance between the illithid and Atticus as possible

[TheDragonmaster]

The cleric, having freed himself from the grasp of the monstrosity, runs off towards the shadow-cloaked stern. A few of the other travellers start to come to as he does, cowering among the crates, crying and whispering their last prayers. One of them, a dark-haired man in a heavy brown robe, makes a panicked run for it, throwing himself overboard with a splash and barely managing to crawl ashore, screaming something unintelligible.

You recognise the panicked yelling as one of the languages of the nether planes, but you can not make out any particular words you understand.
It is now Lucan's turn.

[blackwind1kaze]

With his mind blade in hand, Lucan sprints toward the half-dragon and the archers.

(Double move - 60 ft forward.)

[TheDragonmaster]

The two archers still out of reach of the half-dragon's killing spree keep firing while scrambling to stay out of reach along the shoreline. They seem less confident, spreading out slightly as if to present less of a unified target against the seemingly unstoppable creature of darkness advancing on them, who adds an arrow in the upper left arm to the already immense collection of arrow shafts sticking out of his body. The archer next to him carefully dodges out of reach and runs away in the opposite direction, suddenly stopping as it sees the half-giant rushing against it, and turns into the forest.

On the barge, the tentacled abomination watches the cleric flee for a short moment, then slowly and deliberately walks over to the catfolk oarsman and wraps its tentacles around his head like constrictors, exchanging one target for another that provides less resistance.

Victor and Pangeon spend their turns stunned.

Victor is stunned for 2 more rounds.
Lucius takes another three points of damage from the arrow wound.
Something seems wrong with the dark creature you can barely see in your peripheral vision... you can not quite put your finger on it, but there is something about the silhouette that does not fit the descriptions of mind flayers you have read. The realisation does little to comfort you.
Pangeon is stunned until the beginning of his next turn. He takes 6 points of damage from the crushing trauma to the head and is now grappled. He can feel blood trickling from a surprisingly painless wound in the back of his head, and something cold forcing its way into it.

Yours is the brain I most highly covet. Give it to me...
As the horror watches Atticus with dark, unfeeling eyes, the cleric hears the voiceless words in his mind yet again, all the more mocking for the lack of intonation.

So easily sacrificing another to save yourself? I knew you would, even before you knew yourself.
The barge seems to have come to a rest beached on the soft riverbank.

Two of the archers are 35 and 40 ft. upstream (which is about north-northwest by the way) from Lucius and an additional 30 ft. away from Lucan. The remaining archer is barely visible about 35 ft. from both of them, out of which at least 15 ft. is through trees and undergrowth heavy enough to count as difficult terrain.

It is now Lucius' turn.

[Battlemage]

Yet another arrow pierces Lucius' scaled flesh, and he barely can distinguish the pain of the many individual wounds anymore, his whole body turning into a sea of burning agony. Despite that, the grim smile never leaves his face, and now, with the blood of dead enemies covering his own, standing at the brink of death, he feels more alive than ever.

"You're not getting away that easily!" he hisses, enjoying this deadly game of (heavily armed) cat and (poisoned-arrow-spitting) mouse more than a sane person probably should.

Spreading his wings again, he moves into another powerful jump, covering enough distance to allow him to close to his targets. Once again, the black blade reaches out with a hunger for blood.




Move action: Move 30 feet toward the enemies
Swift action: Use Sudden Leap to close the remaining distance to the archers ahead, reaching the best tactical position possible without incurring an AoO.
[roll0] 1 feet for every 1 DC because of running start.
Standard action: Attack the archer
[roll1]
[roll2]

[TheDragonmaster]

The half-dragon again leaps upon the archers, but this time his mighty swing fails to connect, glancing off of the scaled hide of his intended target and burying the tip of the blade in the soft sand. In an instant, the building fear in the eyes of the archers is replaced by zealous courage.

Lucius is now standing between the two archers, a mere 10 ft. to the one behind him.

It is now Atticus' turn.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Atticus's blood turns cold as he sees the illithid grab a helpless victim. oh no.. He dashes forward and begins to scream "LET GO OF HIM". He frantically stabs at the monster, his strikes lacking the calm discipline he had earlier. Gods, somebody, anybody please help


Move: close the distance
Standard Action: attack with longspear
attack:[roll0]
damage:[roll1]

I believe the illithid is denied its dex bonus to ac because its grappling

[Anachronity]

Victor's world has shattered like an antique vase, carelessly dropped. At first he had thought an arrow took him in the skull. But there was no tunnel or light, just crippling confusion.

Realizing he had not yet died, but may still be in danger, he starts putting his reality back together piece by piece.

[TheDragonmaster]

The cleric ceases his cowering and again steps forward to assault the affront to nature. Guided by divine influence, he again strikes true, biting through the scales into the rubbery mass beneath. If the attack deals any significant damage to whatever organs may be found underneath, the creature does little to indicate it.

It is now Lucan's turn.

[blackwind1kaze]

Lucan unfortunately pushes the barge idea aside as the magical darkness slightly around the illithid doesn't help his thought process of why it seems so wrong. As the half-dragon went for the two, Lucan decides to go after the one attempting to escape trough the treeline.

When he manages to catch up he says while moving his head making his neck crack a little, "now I'm going to assume it was you who hit me with that arrow."

double move
Free: speak

[TheDragonmaster]

Victor is stunned for one more round.
It is now (finally) Pangeon's turn.

[Kydell]

Pengeon Pym

The catfolk's world comes slowly into view, and the horror of what is happening hits him like a brick. He squirms away from the horrible menace behind him and lets out a blood-curdling scream, 'Aghhhhhhhhh, HELP ME!'

Escape Artist to break the grapple:
[roll0]

[TheDragonmaster]

With considerable agility, the feline oarsman manages to wrench himself free from the crushing tentacled grasp.

As he slips free, Pangeon feels a cold, sucking sensation in the back of his head, accompanied by a distinct sound not much unlike that of himself gulping. He is no longer considered grappled and can move 5 feet in any direction freely followed by taking his move action.
Still Pangeon's turn.

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

Relieved to be away from that disgusting creature, Pangeon immediately takes out his trusty hammer. Without being able to see, he waits for his assailant, shivering in fear with the chill air off the river probing the back of his head through his fresh wound. 'Gods damned this bleedin' darkness!'

Standard action to escape the grapple.
Move action to take out the hammer.

[TheDragonmaster]

Acting as one, the remaining archers suddenly withdraw into the jungle in a panicked scramble to get away, their previous bout of confidence swept away in an instant. The undergrowth gets denser the further in, and even the small and agile humanoids are struggling to keep a good pace through the thick swathes of vines and bamboo-like grass that fill the gaps between the gnarled tree trunks.

As more and more of the travellers on board start to come to, the scaled horror pauses for merely a moment, blankly staring at its latest would-be victim, then in a single quicksilver motion takes a long stride and dives overboard into the murky water, gone without trace.

The two archers Lucius were pursuing are now about 30 and 35 feet from him, only the first ten of which count as normal terrain, and even at that distance, it is hard to keep track of them. The half-dragon figures leaping longer distances through the thick tangle might be a tall order even for him, but then again, he never tried before.
The archer Lucan almost just reached keeps running with renewed purpose, though still cautiously ensuring not to present a clear target to the pursuer. It is now about 25 or so feet away, through a mixture of difficult terrain that costs 2 and 4 squares of movement per square entered, respectively (Lucan can reach it with a double move, but not charge or move and attack). As the forest grows denser, even at such short distances it is hard to keep someone in ones sight.
A chill creeps up Pangeon's spine as the creature fixes its gaze on him, leaving one last message.

"I will return to collect your brain in the end."

The creature provokes an attack of opportunity from Pangeon as it leaps overboard, however.
The creature does not provoke an attack of opportunity from Atticus as Pangeon provides it with soft cover as it exits the cleric's threatened square, in case you were wondering.
First things first - Pangeon gets an attack of opportunity, and I will let Kydell roll it himself.

I am breaking up the initiative order now, as combat has mostly subsided. Please respond with your character's actions, including whether it is something said character tries to do as fast as at all possible (combat/emergency situation still, basically... any attempted pursuit of fleeing enemies falls in this category), something said character gets to right away after taking a short pause to catch its breath, or something they do eventually, as things cool down. I will mediate the actions that follow once everyone has had a chance to provide such input.

Current SitRep, by the way: Apart from the player characters and enemies, there are four unconscious people on board (the captain, an oarsman, and two of the passengers), and another oarsman who is still conscious though badly injured. One passenger has fled into the jungle, which leaves another five oarsmen and three passengers huddled against the crates in the stern slowly coming to their senses.

[Battlemage]

Their enemies retreat, and Lucius' first instinct is to pursue them and drive his blade into their bodies. Quickly though, cold calculation prevails over blood-fueled rage, and he stops his advance. Fools with no self-control did not survive in the arena. The terrain was disadvantageous to an ill-planned chase, and who knew whatever the attackers had prepared to cover their escape. Almost a full score of arrows stick from Lucius' scaled body, he is bleedingly heavily and he can still feel burning poison coursing through his veins. Time to stop this.

Moving back to the archers he felled, he checks the one that did not get split in half for signs of life.


He uses his Blessed Bandage on the creature before he hoists the unconscious form up with his left hand and carries it with him. "You're in for some unpleasantness, you pathetic excuse for a dragonspawn." Though, remembering the archers' expressions of fervent zeal, he wasn't too sure they'd get much of use out of their prisoner.

He looks through his dead foes' belongings for anything of interest, and uses the corpse's clothes to make a bundle of whatever he decides to take. When he is finished examining the spoils of victory, the injured half-dragon moves back to the barge, steps heavy with exhaustion and loss of blood.

"All in a day's work." He smiles grimly through bloody fangs.


This is something Lucius does immediately over the next minute or two, but not on combat time anymore, obviously.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Atticus drops his drops his spear with the head covered in the illithid's ichor and it hits the shattered remnants of the ship's deck. His hands start shaking and his heart starts pounding "We're alive".... He looks around the ship as the crew begins to come around and calls out "Is anyone hurt?"

Atticus rushes over to the catfolk's side. "Are you alright? That thing it... bit you"

OOC: Atticus will look around the ship and attempt to see who is the most injured. He will take 10 on any heal check to stabilize any dieing crewmember. He will use all of his 0 level spells and the last charge on his healing belt to attempt to revive any unconscious people (hitpoints <0). He will prioritize healing the captain.

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

Pangeon swings at the monster as it slips into the river.

Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Looking at Atticus, Pangeon sighs, 'Yeah, I'm not sure what was happening there. I came to when the leech was already latched on.' He turns around and gestures toward the wound on the back of his head. 'It ain't bad is it?'

[Anachronity]

Though never truly unconscious, Victor experiences that same feeling of sudden wakefulness when he finally comes to. He is curious to find the barge shrouded in darkness, then recalls that this was his doing. He remains prone in case there are still archers left, though the demeanor of the rest of the crew tells him that the danger may already have passed.

He feels around his skull, half-expecting to feel an arrow protruding from it which could explain his incapacitation. He had assumed his memories of the betentacled humanoid were in error, but he could find no evidence of head trauma. As he checks for other wounds, he notes the deep gouges still remaining in his chest and throat, and recalls the priest who had saved him.

He spies him on the deck, inspecting the strange catfolk that Victor had seen earlier. He attempts to call out a thanks, but his throat is in pain and his voice too weak to hear. He resigns himself to rest for a while here in this dark corner until the world starts making more sense...

[Rofltrollcopter]

Atticus grimaces "It should be fine.. I'll tend to it in a bit. There are other folks that need help more right now. Try to wash it out if you can.

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

'Right. I'll be talking to the captain.' Pangeon says as he goes back to his pack, properly fitting into his chain shirt and coat. After doing so, he finds the captain of the barge and attempts to wake him up. 'Capatin! Are you alright?'

[blackwind1kaze]

Lucan chases after his target in full force yelling out as he disappears farther into the forest, "come back and fight you coward!"

(OOC: pops didn't know we were waiting on me XD helps to retread **** better the first time.)

Action: full round, going as far as possible to catch up to the target.

[TheDragonmaster]

On the barge, after ensuring the catfolk oarsman is all right, the priest of Pluto makes haste to tend to the captain. Most of the other oarsmen and some of the passengers crowd around her as well, either anxious or at least curious about her fate. The whispering and murmuring is only sparsely interspersed with requests for aid and questions about the captain's state. The priest soon moves to tend to the two other injured oarsmen, however. As he moves over to the unconscious oarsman, only accompanied by the concerned colleague kneeling at her side, the injured oarsman left standing collapses over the gunwhale, almost falling overboard. He is quickly brought in on deck safely by the other crew members. The darkness still lies heavy over the beached vessel, and its source remains huddled into the fore, out of the way of the hustle of the other passengers.

On the port side riverbank, the half-dragon slows down and lets the two remaining snipers escape, wandering back to the last felled foe with increasingly laborious steps, and stoops over to inspect his latest victim. In the meantime, the half-giant chases his target out of sight into the thicket, though his progress is still evident from the sounds of broken branches and snapped vines as the hulking warrior powers through the brush.

I will arbitrate this post-combat stage in chunks of about half a minute to a minute, until everyone has had the chance to do what they want to do somewhat concurrently. I will post updates at this in-game pace arbitrarily when I feel enough people have replied to warrant it or enough time has passed (under the assumptions about your characters' actions the following few minutes at least posted below) until it seems everyone has done what they feel like doing.

As the sense of the world slowly returns to him, Victor feels the burning pain return with full force, spreading down through the upper body, accompanied by an almost overwhelming thirst. He takes an additional 3 points of Constitution damage.

Unless otherwise instructed, I will assume Victor stays in his corner (and that the Darkness invocation stays up).
As he stops his pursuit, Lucius is almost overcome with nausea as the burning pain spreads with new-found intensity throughout his body, dealing another 3 points of Constitution damage. He begins feeling light-headed, but shakes off the urge to lay down and rest as he has so many times before.

After an incredible distance that just moments ago seemed so short, he kneels down next to the latest scaled one to taste his blade. It is still warm, but has ceased breathing, and although it is usually a sign, Lucius has seen people who no longer drew breath revived more than once before, and he is forced to concede the point that he just does not know whether his swing proved fatal or not.

When rummaging through the creature's belongings, he apart from the surprisingly well-made bow, a quiver of arrows at the hip, and a hide-wrapped wooden buckler finds a small blue glass vial, a package of grass-like reeds and strips of dried meat of indeterminate nature wrapped in a piece of leather, as well as a pouch of coin, all kept in a sack slung over the shoulder and tied off with a short piece of rope.

Please provide the proper reaction to not being able to tell for sure if the felled foe is dead or alive (use the Blessed Bandage just in case, or save it just in case?). Unless otherwise instructed, I will assume Lucius continues on to turn the confirmed kill into a combined murder and robbery and then tries to swim back to the barge.
After chasing for almost a minute, Lucan gets the feeling he is falling ever so slightly behind his smaller, more nimble quarry, though keeping within sight has not yet been an issue. The earlier sense of numbness never quite faded, and as another wave of numbness again threatens to overwhelm him, he steels himself against it and goes through the well-practiced routines to isolate the poison in his bloodstream.

Unless otherwise instructed, I will assume Lucan tries to chase for at least another minute or two before giving up. Since his Autohypnosis modifier is higher than his Fortitude save modifier (and since skill checks are generally more favourable than saves), I am assuming that the former is used to combat secondary damage from poison on any opportunity.
As Pangeon slips into his maille shirt, far more smoothly now than when arrows were raining down around him, he glances over at the captain as the cleric examines her injuries. He notices that she is still breathing normally, but she fails to respond to being addressed. As a stark contrast to the chaos around her mere tens of seconds ago, she looks peaceful. As the thought of the encounter with the unearthly creature again passes his mind, the catfolk oarsman shudders, and finds himself subconsciously reaching to feel the back of his head.

Unless otherwise instructed, I will assume Pangeon uses the upcoming few minutes to check on the captain more thoroughly and on the other crewmembers.
A wave of fatigue washes over Atticus as he steps over to the captain's side, but he pushes it aside, his willpower aided by the knowledge that he is needed here, now. As he leans in closer to examine her injury, he soon finds that the black-feathered arrow only scratched her thigh, and although the wound is not insignificant, it seems unlikely that it alone would have caused such shock as to send the captain unconscious. Further examination confirms his suspicion, a swelling around the wound indicative of the poison now coursing through her veins.

The cleric makes the same observation about the downed oarsman, and although her injury is more significant, her recovery should also almost be dependent on the properties of the poison alone. He barely finishes removing the arrow lodged under her clavicle before being momentarily distracted by the last injured oarsman almost falling overboard.

Unless otherwise instructed, I will assume Atticus goes on trying to ensure the rest of the unconscious travellers are stable.

[Battlemage]

As the poison spreads further through his body, ravaging a burning trail through his veins, Lucius is very close to the brink of unconsciousness. Having felt the same many times in the arena, he knows that his will alone keeps him moving. Every steps feels more difficult than the last. His unhealed head wound does not complement his weakened state well, and plagues him with fuzzy vision and a high-pitched ringing in his ears. Still he carries on, for nothing defeats the Black Claw, not even his own body.

Lacking the medical expertise to tell if his victim is still alive, he nevertheless uses the magical bandage from his belt pouch to keep burning any possible remaining spark of life inside the creature. He wanted to know what this strange attack was about. It didn't make a lot of sense for a handful of robbers to attack a well-populated ship like this, there should be plenty of easier victims about. Unless they had a reason for choosing this specific target. And what band of robbers would be lead by a gods-damned squid-face monster anyway. Illithid, someone on board had called it, but the word didn't mean anything to the half-dragon. Further contemplation of the issue comes to a halt when his head decides to simulate the feeling of sudden free-fall, and his vision momentarily blackens. He really was not in a great condition.

After a moment he gathers his remaining strength and moves on. Carrying the unconscious or dead body of the archer on his shoulder, and his newly aquired loot fastened about his person, his steps fall even heavier and slower than before. Arriving at the shore, he looks over the river toward the barge, the distance suddenly seeming overwhelmingly far to his dizzy mind. If the posion decided to strike again while he swam, or his waning strength simply gave out, he would unceremoniously drown like a crippled dog being thrown into a well. What an end for the Black Claw, the winged terror of the bloody sands, victor of a thousand fights. But reality was rarely as glamorous as the foolish thoughts of men.

But there is not much choice. The Black Claw doesn't admit defeat to his enemies, and that includes rivers. Calling for help to the ship does not even enter his mind. Every time he had relied on someone else, opened up and trusted their intentions, he had been played for a fool. Never again.
Gritting his teeth, the black-scaled half-dragon plunges into the river, forcing his battered and poisoned limbs into action once more, petering on the edge of oblivion with every breath.


Lucius takes all of the loot with him. ALL OF IT. Also, someone please fish me out if I start drowning.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Atticus keeps talking. Our attackers were using poison arrows. My magic isn't powerful enough to heal it, but I can treat you and help you recover faster. Once Atticus is finished seeing to the living, he will begin to tend to the bodies of the fallen.

Atticus will begin to treat people using long term care to help them recover missing ability points faster. Atticus will take 10 on any relevant heal check.

Also, do we get xp?

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

The catfolk stays near the captain to make sure she is taken care of. Pangeon cannot feel well about doing his job unless his boss survives. 'Is everyone back on the boat?' he yells, 'We need to get moving to the city to sort out what needs to happen.'

[TheDragonmaster]

A handful of scattered replies from the crowd aboard rises above the murmuring, directed at the catfolk crewsman.

"The two giants are still chasing off the lizardfolk."
"That Talian merchant, Ludo was it? He ran off into the woods!"

At the sudden issue of something that could be conceived as instructions, a handful of the crew members spring into action, clinging to some sort of ingrained sense of routine. Two of them climb overboard on land to inspect the damage, and start removing the splintered oars pinned under the hull, while another runs up to one of the sturdier-looking trees with a mooring line, somewhat securing the fore of the barge temporarily should the current begin pulling it loose.

"Get the spare oars out of the hold!"
"There should be a saw somewhere."
"I need a hand with this."

Meanwhile, the priest keeps walking from patient to patient, briskly but carefully examining each one and administering what help he deems necessary. People step out of his way as not to interfere, but many still crowd curiously around the fallen, eager for any information about their condition.

About another minute of febrile activity passes.

While robbing the unquestionably non-living archer, Lucius finds somewhat similar spoils to those relieved from the one whose fate is yet undetermined. A strong, short recurve bow, a quiver of arrows, a short-hafted small axe slung from the belt, and a similar bundle slung across the back containing a money pouch, a few pieces of probably stolen jewellery, a stoppered bottle gourd for carrying water, and the unprepared carcasses of two large bats.

Still feeling equal parts nauseous and exhausted, he starts to feel that while the situation is not improving, it seems to have stopped going downhill. The sudden clarity of this realisation lends a little confidence to his movements as he trudges down to the river through the wet sand.

(Concerning the swimming, I need to know if he is planning to stay above the surface, and in particular if he plans to tow his potentially alive prey head-above-surface... whether he is going to simply cross to the other side of the river or actually climb onto the barge directly from the water might also matter when he is dragging another creature along)
After about another minute of running through the jungle, the observation that Lucan is slowly but surely falling behind is becoming more and more evident. He figures that at this pace, his would-be prey will be out of sight long before his superior stamina will allow him to catch back up. As the earlier tiredness is replaced by clarity and as the pain of his wounds has almost faded, he feels in shape to continue the chase for as long as it takes, and the futility of this realisation annoys him greatly.

(Please choose whether to keep chasing (it is not impossible to catch up still, but it seems rather improbable at this particular juncture in the narrative), stop, or possibly do something along the lines of a last desperation attack to stop your foe)
As for the chain of command on board when the captain is unconscious, in case you were wondering, Pangeon is unsure, but Hugo, the one who has so far stepped up when she was unavailable during loading, and who Pangeon suspects is the most senior crewmember, was just knocked out cold and almost fell overboard, so there seems to be a bit of a power vacuum.
Atticus moves from body to body with the clinical precision of a well-practiced routine, looking for the same tell-tale signs of poisoning. It seems the entire first couple volleys of arrows were intended to take their targets out of the fight immediately, as both the hit passenger, a nobleman of some persuasion by the cut of his clothes and jewellery, and the newly unconscious oarsman show the same symptoms, the latter only managing to resist its effects longer. The presumed nobleman being fairly badly injured, however, Atticus resorts to magical healing to ensure that his patient remains stable until such time as he regains consciousness.

The human archer, however, is a different matter entirely. The long gashes across the torso cuts deep into the throat before continuing up as scratches across the face, and even before kneeling down beside him searching for signs of life, Atticus can already tell that he is too late by the size alone of the pool of blood slowly trickling down between the planks of the deck into the hold.

Three orisons used up for Cure Minor Wounds on the nobleman (or a charge on your Healing Belt if you so prefer).

(Who are you selecting for long-term treatment? Remember that you will have to stay with your patients "long term" (about 8 hours, but I am flexible when it comes to the details) for it to really be meaningful in any way)
As the only real timed issue right now has been isolated from the rest of the group, I will start replying "as usual" with updates from now on, just post your characters' actions and interactions as they come. Dialogue in particular works better that way.

[Kydell]

Pangeon Pym

Pangeon stands up and begins, 'Alright everyone, let's make sure all crew members and passengers are accounted for. We need a small group to venture onto land to make sure those two larger folks are alright. I'll head that group. Let's have a couple more stand on deck armed with crossbows in case we see more trouble.' He picks up a crossbow and a small bundle of bolts, and walks toward the shore.

Diplomacy check to assume temporary control:
[roll0]

The catfolk points at two of the oarsmen, 'You and you, please accompany me onto the shore.' Addressing the rest of the crowd he continues, 'You have all done an incredible job so far, but that creature was not killed, and we are still vulnerable. Please stay calm, and we'll make it to town soon enough.

[Anachronity]

As Victor's darkness spell fades, the dwindling sunlight wakes him. A deep unwellness permeates his body from the lingering poison.

He's felt the effects of poison before, but it's always a little different each time. Other poisons have made him weak or clumsy, but this time he just felt... ill.

In the past he had beaten poison with rest and the medicines of the elves. Rest is what he needed now. He felt so very tired. There were places to rest in the city, he was sure. Out here they would be vulnerable to the archers.

He takes a long drink from his waterskin to satisfy his parched throat, then wears the growing shadows as he silently watches the others, paying special attention to the priest who had sealed his wounds from before.

[TheDragonmaster]

As the catfolk oarsman picks out an entourage, one of the selected oarsmen, a sturdy-looking human, refuses the assignment just as the self-assigned leader hops overboard onto the shore and readies himself to swim across.

"If you want to kill yourself you go ahead; there is no way I am diving into the river while that... thing... is still waiting for us! Those big folk looked like they could handle themselves, and besides, they are not my problem. I say we stay right here until we can get this thing moving again."

He marks his point by picking up the crossbow the captain dropped and turns around to stand watch over the river in the fore. While one or two of the listeners mutter statements in support of this plan, the other selected oarsman, a tall man indisputably of half-elven descent, quickly manages to lighten the mood enough to kill any dispute before it has time to erupt.

"You are just afraid of the leeches, Bal, the holy warrior and Pangeon here made short work of that slimy creature. I bet it swam off to some deep cave somewhere to lick its wounds. At least I am not afraid to get myself a little wet."

He then snatches the second stashed crossbow and jumps overboard to join the catfolk. Mere moments after he does, the darkness lifts from the barge, and a few sighs of relief are heard from the crowd on board.

"See? The creature's curse has been lifted, there is nothing left to worry ab-"

He is interrupted by a bit of commotion from the barge as the half-dragon loudly announces his presence with an exhausted grunt, just before slamming a heavy palm on deck, trying to hoist his scaled cargo up to any who would relieve him of this burden.

While the small humanoid is very light due only to difference in size, the sheer amount of his own body Lucius has to keep above the level of buoyancy to keep his cargo from drowning, if it is indeed still alive, makes the short swim surprisingly exhausting. He judges his effort rather successful though, and besides, if the scaled one could not take a few short dips below the surface, it should have known better than to venture so close to water anyway.
Pangeon does not know the oarsman identified as Bal very well, but from the little he had time to pick up, he would not have thought someone who generally acted so tough would be one to back down in the face of danger.

The second speaker, Saul, rowed beside Pangeon for most of the voyage, and they had had time to chat enough that he had learned that the lithe half-elf made his living rowing and sailing in and around the delta, hopping from skiff to barge to boat and generally being the free spirit many seek to be but few end up being. He seems likeable enough, though, Pangeon suspects, not one to assume leadership.
If anyone on the barge wants to rush to help Lucius, now would be the time to mention it, otherwise the NPC's will take it from here.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Now that Atticus has seen to the living, he takes the time to see to the dead. He begins the slow, laborious task of gathering the deceased. Atticus notes with sadness that the archer who helped him with the Mind Flayer was among the fallen. He says a prayer over their bodies and places a silver coin under the tongues of the deceased. The coins are intended to allow the deceased to buy passage with Charon to take them safely across the river Styx. Atticus approaches the Captain."I'm not sure if I have introduced myself, I am Atticus, a priest of Pluto. Captain, does these men have any families that you are aware of? I would prefer to give these people proper funeral rites, but I doubt that we would be able to take their bodies with us."

OOC: Atticus converts three level 0 spells to cure minor wounds. Atticus will do long term care for as many people as possible, prioritizing combatants (who will most likely be fellow npcs)

[Battlemage]

Lucius is breathing heavily as he reaches the barge and clings to its hull with one arm. Dragging his victim through the water, along with the mass of looted spoils he was also carrying, had taken most of his remaining energy.

In a rough and somewhat hoarse voice, he calls out to the people on board.
"Someone take this worthless excuse for a lizard off my arms!" He punctuates his statement by slapping the deck of the boat loudly with his palm. Thinking of this scaled creature as related to him, even just in some small and distant way, annoys him. "Maybe it's still breathing and can tell us what the hell this was all about. If not it makes a nice victory trophy anyway..."

[blackwind1kaze]

In a last bit of effort, Lucian throws his mind blade with all his might at the enemy hoping to bring them down so hopefully another could be questioned.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[TheDragonmaster]

Cries of shock or at least surprise rise from the onlookers as the scaled duo emerges and the half-dragon demands help. The commotion settles quickly, however, and one of the crewmembers abandons his task of retrieving something from one of the holds to walk over and drag the fallen assailant on board.

"Minerva protect us!"
"Is that one of the ambushers?"
"It needs immediate medical attention if we are to get anything at all out of it."

The last comment seems to grab Bal's attention, and he responds loudly in an agitated voice:

"No... NO! That pile of filth does not deserve any help."

He turns to the priest of Pluto and points at him with the crossbow, eyes suddenly filled with rage.

"You stay right there and make the captain and the crew better! As for the forsaken refuse you dragged up from the river... I'll take care of him myself!"

He then quickly drops the crossbow and pulls a wicked-looking blade out of his belt, and begins rushing towards the helpless target.

If anyone feels like doing something to protect the to all onlookers apparently unconscious but still living scalykind, that someone should roll initiative. As Lucius took the shortest route to the barge, the scaled one was dragged on board in the stern, while Bal took his demonstrative position in the fore, so practically anyone on board in is a position to physically intervene (everyone is free to intervene in other ways too, of course).

The throw would have been hard enough were Lucan and his target standing still; thus, the attack is backed more by prayer than by confidence, and while the half-giant fails to see whether it hit or missed, the lack of a reaction from his quarry as it slips out of sight seems to suggest the latter.
The fact that I am putting the very much IC information for specific players in the OoC spoiler for convenience feels a little bit strange on second thought, does it not?

[Battlemage]

Lucius lets out a satisfied grunt when his prisoner's weight is finally lifted off him, and gives a grateful nod to the sailor who helped him. While the crew talks, he heaves himself on board the ship with heavy movements and just stands still for a second, his focus turned inward, fighting exhaustion, injury, and the constant irritation from his head wound.
The agitation in Bal's tone makes his head snap around and turns his attention back to the moment. As the oarsman runs for the unmoving lizard, blade in hand, Lucius tries to block his path, stepping forward with calm but purposeful movements, his lashing tail the only sign of tension. The half-dragon's voice is cold and flat as he speaks, not a threat, but a promise.

"Touch my prisoner and I will hurt you."


[roll0] (sadly he has neither charisma, nor enough skillpoints, so Lucius is doomed to have his threats ignored and will have to carry them all out)
[roll1]
If fast enough, Lucius will take a move action to step between Bal and the archer, and a standard action to slap Bal in the face with his tail (heh), if the oarsman does not cease his attempt to reach the prisoner. Claw don't play.
[roll2]
[roll3]

[Anachronity]

Victor could relate to this man who loathed the small scaly archer so, but he also understood the pressing need for answers. Though he had been wild with fear or anger before, Victor had never seen this behavior in others.

At Bal's ultimatum, it becomes clear that action is necessary.

[roll0]

EDIT: should be +3 (for 13)

[TheDragonmaster]

For the benefit of any third party reading through this IC thread in the future, this marks the continuation of the campaign after a significant hiatus, now as a duo game due to player loss.
The half-dragon moves to intercept Bal, but is far too late, as the voiced threat is ignored and the enraged crew member reaches his target, grabbing it by the neck and violently dragging it to its feet like a ragdoll. As Bal raises his dagger to his victim's throat, all onlookers are shocked by a sudden blast of dark energy tearing its way through the air from the raised palm of the pitch-skinned man huddled in the fore, across the deck towards the aggressor. The shadowy missile hits him in the lower back of the head, exploding to leave a palm-sized bleeding wound. Whether from physical trauma or shock, Bal instantly drops both his dagger and the reptilian humanoid before falling headlong to the deck beside them.

[Battlemage]

Lucius watches the events in front of him without showing much emotion. He looks over to the gray-skinned man from whom the blast originated and nods. Then the half-dragon kicks the dropped dagger away from Bal's still form, and pulls the scaled archer, whos fate is yet unconfirmed, a distance away as well.
"Someone check both of these for signs of life!" he calls out, addressing everyone on board while pointing at the two bodies on deck. He puts a special emphasis on looking toward the holy man who has already healed others on the ship. "Preferably the archer first. He might actually be useful. The other fool brought this on himself."

While waiting for someone to follow his instructions, he walks over to the green-clad man that took Bal down, leaning on a nearby railing with a sound of exhaustion. "Not a bad shot there! Man was being a damned fool. But some people just snap the first time they're in a life-or-death situation. Just can't handle it." Those were the ones that died quickly on the sands.

Lucius wasn't quite sure why he was talking at all. It wasn't his usual way. Or rather, it hadn't been his way anymore since Claudia's betrayal. But he was close to dropping from injuries and fatigue, and, truth be told, he missed the easy companionship of his resistance days, though he'd never admit it.

[Anachronity]

Victor looked with trepidation at what he had done. Had he acted correctly? Ever since leaving the Witchstone, violence had been a confusing proposition. This dragonlike creature which approached him seemed to appreciate what he had done, but he found it harder to read the faces of the other passengers. A voice nagged at the back of his head that this was not a time for making new friends.

His voice was even, but betrayed his weariness:
"I did not enjoy that, but I agree this is the better outcome. We need answers."

Still Victor eyed the remaining passengers fearfully. Did they all share the dragonoid's opinion? He gave particular attention to the classicalistic priest. It had been Bal's threat towards him that drove Victor to action, though he could not say why beyond a simple sense of loyalty for the healing magic he had used earlier..

"You aren't doing bad yourself, I remain standing only because that one attended my wounds." Victor said, indicating the priest.

How angry/indifferent are the passengers towards me?
[roll0]

Also, what would be the title for the followers of the Greek pantheon within this world? Would they simply be Greek or does the pantheon exist apart from the civilization?

[Battlemage]

Lucius looks over to the cleric at Victor's words. "Hope the priest has enough power left to get the lizard into talking shape. Wouldn't want to have carried it all the way for nothing." The half-dragon spits over the railing into the river.

While talking, he studies his conversation partner. The man had acted quite decisively during Bal's tantrum. His apparent magic powers combined with his strange appearance made him someone to be watched. You never knew. For the moment at least, their interests seemed to align though.

Waiting for their prisoner's fate to be revealed, he uses a rag and some water from a nearby bucket to clean the blood - his enemies' as well as his own - from his blade and armor. The practiced ease of his movements betrays intimate familiarity with the action.


Waiting for the outcome in regards to the lizard archer before doing much more.

[TheDragonmaster]

"You killed him!"
"Bal!"
"What did you do?"
"Is he alive?"

A distressed outcry rises from the onlookers as Bal drops limply on the deck, but everyone seems too frozen in shock to take action before the half-dragon speaks. The chtonic priest, singled out by the dragonspawn, too seems shocked initially, but as he brushes it off, a great sadness descends over his features instead as he hastes towards the newly fallen. Everyone waits in suspense as he examines the two bodies in an ominous silence only broken by the hushed words exchanged between the half-dragon and the very source of the unrest. The uneasy atmosphere is almost palpable as the priest finally speaks only to confirm what everyone is already thinking.

"They are dead. They are both dead. There is nothing I can do but prepare them for the journey ahead of them."

The announcement brings about another bout of muffled outcries, but they are quickly hushed down. The crowd turns to face the green-robed man, and closes the distance for a few steps before fear stops their tracks. One of the crewmembers steps closer still, seemingly with hostile intent, but is held back by two of the others but nevertheless dares voice his dismay.

"Explain yourself... you murderer!"

The crowd again falls silent in suspense, anxiously awaiting the response, their faces an amalgam of anger, fear and grief.

It is painfully obvious that almost everyone on board seems hostile towards you, especially after the announcement of Bal's death, though few seem to have the will to act on any such emotions alone as of right now.

[Anachronity]

"Bal has acted against you, against us, and against himself. We could be attacked again at any moment, and we need to know what is out there."
A tightness in his throat threatens to ruin Victor's delivery. He regrets his actions far less than he fears the hostile and fearful gazes locked upon him. He is a wounded animal backed into a corner, and it takes all of his willpower to avoid fleeing from the barge and disappearing amongst the trees.

Though the words sounded appropriate in his head, they seem woefully inadequate against the oppressive crowd. Softly he said, to himself and the others.
"There is no safety in panic."

[roll0]

[Battlemage]

Lucius sighs with exhaustion as the crowd amasses around himself and the green-robed man. His body is heavy with fatigue, poison and blood loss and the last thing he wants right now is another confrontation. For a moment he considers sitting back and letting the crowd do whatever they planned, they were not directly after him after all. But the green-robed man had acted on his behalf, and besides, his time in the arena had taught Lucius enough about mob mentality and the influence of strong emotions. If the situation went out of control there would be no neutral bystanders.

The half-dragon abandons his half-finished cleaning job and stands up from his crouched position against the railing, raising his body to its whole height of seven-and-a-half feet. He leans heavily on the cross-guard of his bared and still blood-stained greatsword, the black steel driving into the wooden deck. The incarnum demon mask in front of his face hides his expression, but the tone of his voice shows his tiredness.

“Look around you people! Look at all the death that has happened. Look at the bodies of your comrades that fell in the attack, look at the enemies that paid for their actions in blood. That is the result of rash action and violence. Do you like it? Do you have a taste for more of it?”

He pauses for a moment. Talking to these fools is a chore to him, they don’t understand. They will never understand. Most of them have lived their lives in relative comfort, safe from violence and death. He envies them their ignorance, and disdains them for it at the same time. The weariness in his voice increases as he continues. He knows it is futile, but he has to try. People never listened to him, never respected anything but his blade. Must he keep killing today?

“What happened was unfortunate. Bal acted irresponsibly and endangered everyone. He had to be stopped. His death was an unlucky twist of fate. Put the blame where it belongs, on the creatures that attacked us. Grieve for the people you have lost, but do no let it cloud your judgement. This was a not a normal robbery. I don’t know what kind of monstrosity attacked this ship, but it certainly was not just out for our meager riches. It might come back at any moment. Do you want it to find us easy prey, fighting among ourselves? Do you think you could survive another attack without my blade, without his magic?” He indicates the green-robed man beside him.

Lucius hadn't talked this much at once in years. Never had had a reason to. Talking had never done him any good, and he didn't have much hope in this attempt either. While standing still and relaxed on the outside, projecting weariness but confidence, he readies himself for an attack. As weak as most of these people seemed to be, Lucius was on the brink of death from his wounds, and he would never survive fighting all of them. He grins darkly behind his spectral mask. Wouldn’t that be a joke. Dying at the hands of the people he just saved. Quite fitting for his life really.


Using Total Defense while talking.
[roll0]

[TheDragonmaster]

Scattered replies and remarks abound during the short speeches, but they seem to fulfil their purpose in diverting most of the crowd's fear and mistrust towards the prospect of another assault. People turn their heads to scan the shores each time the subject is brought up, and their anger and frustration loses some of its edge, being replaced with an uneasy wariness. In this precarious state, where a single word would be enough to sway the crowd anew against the shadowy figure, the feline crewman takes the opportunity to regain his shaky position of leadership.

"We need to focus on getting the barge in working condition, getting everyone together, and getting on our way. Each additional minute we wait puts us at unnecessary risk."

Like before, he points out two others to accompany him in search of the missing merchant and the half-giant (the former first since the latter seemed to be able to handle himself), then points out a pair to stand guard and another to inspect the hull for any damage.

"The rest of you stay calm, and try to avoid further... incidents."

He soon leaves with the two appointed oarsmen, venturing into the jungle roughly where the panicked merchant went missing, a few paces apart, calling out for the same. On deck, a few of the crew members move around looking for tell-tale signs of leakage in the storage compartments and helping the priest to move the fallen, the rest standing together with the bulk of other passengers in the aft, as far away from the shadowy figure as possible, the reason for their emotions for him still fresh in memory.

A few minutes pass in this unsteady state of febrile activity, before the crowd's attention is diverted once more by the half-giant's emergence from the forest on the opposite side of the river a bit downstream. His voice sounds both angry and tired, giving it a more annoyed or frustrated quality, as he calls out towards his onlookers.

"The cowardly spawn of Typhon got away."

He then walks out into the river, reaching almost a third of the distance across before being forced to begin swimming with slow, deliberate strokes.

Since at this point all parameters have been accounted for as far as my idea of the encounter reaches, enjoy 945 XP each.

[Anachronity]

Though their attentions may be wilting, Victor had long ago mastered avoiding attention. The brief diversion of the half-giant's return provides ample opportunity to vanish into the deepening shadows.

Victor fully intends to remain hidden until the barge reaches the city, considering his physical condition. He attempts to stay close to Lucius where possible.

Ker-HIDE!: [roll0]
Move Silently: [roll1]

[Battlemage]

Lucius stands in disbelief for a few seconds as the crowd actually (somewhat) listens to them and calms down a bit. Then he sits back down with his back against the railing, dropping to the deck heavily with a grunt of exhaustion. Returning to the task of cleaning his weapons and armor he thinks about his situation. The damned lizard was dead. He'd carried it all the way to the ship and yet he was no closer to knowing a single thing about the motivations or circumstances behind this mysterious attack. He couldn't think of any other ways to get that information either. Therefore the only thing do here was to be prepared in case of another attack, and otherwise simply ignore the whole thing as yet another crazy thing that happened in his screwed up life. Considering the amount of people on the boat, it was quite likely that the attack had had nothing to do with him specifically, and he could simply leave the whole issue behind as soon as he left the vessel.

Having come to that conclusion, the half-dragon moves on to the next point on his mental checklist. He was in bad shape, physically. He wouldn't last another fight like this, and if he'd learned anything from his life experiences, it was that another fight is always just around the corner. His silver eyes follow the priest as he moves the bodies. He'd seen the man use healing magic. It was possible he still had more available. The possibility of asking for the man's help does not enter Lucius' head, however. Asking for help was tantamount to displaying your weakness for everyone to see. No better way to paint a target on your back. He thinks of the glass vial he looted from one of the archers as well. It might be a healing elixir of some sort. But drinking it on a random guess was as bad an idea as they came, so that was out as well. After considering it some more, he decides to simply wait it out until they reach the city. It his condition improved by itself, all the better. If it did not, he could still look for a healer there. One he could see in private, without everyone knowing about the extent of his injuries. One he could pay so he would not be in anyone's debt. He'd just have to avoid a fight for a little while. That should be possible somehow. Other people went their whole lives without getting into fights. Though the half-dragon had no idea how they managed that.

The return of the half-giant interrupts his musings. The hulking warrior, taller than even Lucius himself by a foot or more, had come to shore with him to fight the archers. Lucius could respect him for that. The merchant that had run away, not so much. He didn't fault him for fleeing, every man had the right to save his skin however he could. He just didn't see the point of expending valuable time and effort to search for him. The man's survival was his own obligation. But since nobody was asking for his opinion he simply continued to sit and clean his blade, looking into the evening shadows for more threats, hoping the sailors return quickly so he can finally get off this ship.

[TheDragonmaster]

The half-giant climbs aboard as soon as he has crossed the river, gathering a small crowd around him, though at a short distance. The arrows that were formerly lodged in his body are gone, having left no visible wounds, and the traces of blood remaining in his clothing after the swim do not betray their origin, but his movements are a little strained. He walks straight to his small pack in the aft and rummages through it for a bit, retrieving a dry loaf of bread which he starts eating with a satisfied look.

The general movement aboard as the half-giant boards causes the barge to finally shift free of the sand and slide out a few feet into the river, and the provisional mooring receives hearty praise as it stops further drifting. The priest thanks his helpers and stands up, apparently satisfied with the condition of his unconscious charges, at least for the time being.

"We will be able to wake them from their coma once we reach the city and can bring them into the care of my peers."

His voice takes on the slightest of scolding tones, and there would be no doubting to whom his words were directed even without the meaning looks.

"Now that they are taken care of, let me take a look at our great warriors."

The half-giant springs back up to his feet and bows his head towards the holy man.

"I am quite fine, but far be it from me to refuse the aid from an anointed man. That reminds me though, is anyone else injured? I should still have a little more healing in me."

[Anachronity]

"The archers' poisons have bitten me as they have many others. Beyond that, I would appreciate it if you could make use of this to mend my wounds."

With a short pause, Viktor produces a curative wand from his pack and offers it to the priest. Though he could operate the device himself with some difficulty, he found that he trusted the priest--at least when it came to mending ills.

[Battlemage]

As the half-giant climbs onto, Lucius studies him carefully. He didn't intend to to fight the hulking figure if he had a choice, but it paid to be prepared for every eventuality. Always have a plan to kill everyone in the room, his instructors used to say, and that mindset had proven helpful many times. It didn't make for great social skills, however.

Hearing the half-giants offer of aid, Lucius finally brings himself to stand up and walk over to him and the priest. If help was offered freely, he could not be held responsible for any debt. "I expected to be alone out there. Your courage in joining the fight is appreciated. If you have healing to offer, I can use it."

[TheDragonmaster]

"I assumed you were in need of a comrade in arms, but after seeing you on the shore, I have been forced to re-evaluate that sentiment. You are not one to share the glory lightly."

The half-giant closes the distance to Lucius in but a few steps and reaches out, offering a handshake. Unlike the other travellers, he shows no sign of being intimidated by the half-dragon's stature and appearance.

At the same time, the priest reluctantly approaches Victor and accepts the offered wand without a word, weighing it in his hand and inspecting its etched hardwood surface carefully. After handling it such for a moment, he suddenly utters a few brief syllables, trailing the wand against its owner's skin, tiny motes of light trailing across it towards the injured areas. After having fulfilled the green-robe man's request, the priest starts handing the wand back, but stops himself to instead give the man a long, meaningful look. He then walks back to his patients, wand still in hand.

[Battlemage]

Lucius grips the offered hand in a warrior's handshake, palm to wrist, with considerable force applied. At the same time he is still prepared for any suspicious move by the other man. He found it easier to get along with fellow warriors. That didn't mean he trusted them much more than anyone else.

He twists his mouth with something akin to distaste at the half-giants words, though the incarnum masks hides the expression. "I've had enough of "glory" to last me a lifetime. I'm just trying get people to stop involving me in their business. Somehow that never works, though. There's always another fool wanting to test my blade..." He trails off into a resigned chuckle.

[Anachronity]

Victor watches the priest go without remark. He could hardly deny the use of his own resources when he had so recently denounced another for selfish actions.

Instead he observes the priest with more than a little interest. He truly seemed to care for every life, and Bal's threat clearly bothered him less than it did Victor.

[TheDragonmaster]

The moment Lucius' hand touches that of the half-giant, his hand is locked in a vice-like grip. The hulking figure utters but two alien syllables, eyes suddenly staring intently, and a searing, painful cold overcomes Lucius, like being immersed in icy water, spreading from his gripped hand throughout his body. He exhales forcibly, and subconsciously jerks his hand towards him, but the half-giant's grip prevents the motion.

After a few seconds that feel like minutes, the half-giant lets go of Lucius' hand and the wave of cold wanes, being replaced with an almost refreshing feeling, and the half-dragon notes to his surprise that his wounds have closed.

Lucius is healed 18 hit points.
The priest walks over to the last injured oarsman and uses the borrowed wand to magically heal the chest wound left by the already removed arrow, and after carefully examining the results, he returns to face Victor again, handing over the wand with another meaningful look but without saying a word.

...having expended two more charges, for a total of four.

[Anachronity]

Victor takes and stows the wand, though this much eye contact makes him nervous.

[Battlemage]

As the icy cold washes through him, Lucius sees his suspicions validated for just a second. Instinctively he reaches for his weapon, but by the time his body starts to react to his will he has already realized that this was not an attack of some kind and he relaxes. He notices with surprise as his injuries close up quickly and efficiently. He still felt greatly weakened from the poison, but there were no more open wounds on him.

He nods his thanks to the half-giant and disentangles his claw from the man's grip. "It seems I'm not the only warrior with unusual capabilities on this ship. Thank you."

[TheDragonmaster]

The half-giant smiles broadly, a sight more distressing than it ought to be, and calls attention to his belt by tucking the thumb behind the buckle, which is set with a large milky white stone.

"Behold the unusual capability of foresight. A remarkably worthwhile investment, this thing."

After a few minutes, the search party returns, headed by the now crestfallen catfolk, without the merchant. As concerned whispers start rising from the gathering on the barge, another of the returning crew members, rather slender for a half-orc, walks ahead of the group and proclaims the unsettling news.

"We could not find him so we stopped looking. We should get the injured to the city. We can send help to find him after that."

The information is followed by murmuring and quiet hectic discussion as the search party boards the vessel, but no one voices any opinion disagreeing with the suggested plan of action.

[Battlemage]

"A useful thing, indeed." Lucius takes note of the belt and stores that information for further use.

The search party's unsuccessful return doesn't surprise him much, nor does he have a problem with the following decision to abandon the merchant to his fate.

[TheDragonmaster]

Subdued discussion about leaving the merchant behind continues while a few of the crew members work out practical details between each other. After a few minutes, the mooring is undone and the barge is punted into the centre of the shallow stream, allowing the oarsmen to resume their duties. They start rowing with a silent determination, and no one on board seems particularly inclined to break the silence.

As the barge departs, a chill runs down your spine as you again hear the words without a voice enter your mind.

"An amusing display... perhaps I will save you for last."

[Anachronity]

Victor's brow furrows, not understanding the source of the message for a brief moment. In short order he recalls the moments just before his mind was assaulted; he had guessed that some of it was hallucinated or inaccurate due to his brush with death, but he could recall this voice which spoke to him now in his mind. Hearing it again drove chills down his spine.

Unused to such communication, he opens his mouth to speak before immediately realizing there is no one here to speak to. He opens his mouth again to warn the others, but then also realizes that the creature may not even be close enough to warrant causing such a panic. He steels his mind against mental intrusion, or at least imagines he has done so. Then, for lack of a better means of communication, he thinks clear words back at the voice:

"What is this about? Are you that creature we saw earlier? Face us or begone!"

Though the thoughts he directs towards it are meant to sound brave, a lack of knowledge and of confidence in his memories is all that remains between the tightening knot in Victor's throat and full-blown panic.

[Battlemage]

Lucius settles back into his position against the railing, a good bit apart from everyone else. To an observer he looked to be paying no attention to anything around him, letting his gaze wander aimlessly around the barge. But despite that appearance, the half-dragon was keeping a careful watch on his surroundings. The strange incident seemed to be over and he could hope to arrive at the city without further incidents. But you never knew, and it always paid to be prepared.

[TheDragonmaster]

Little noise escapes the jungle enveloping the river to challenge the silence as the barge again resumes its voyage upstream through the calm, unrevealing water. The few clouds present on the otherwise clear sky turn a deep red, and the rapidly disappearing light grants the already tense atmosphere an almost eerie tone. Before long, shadows spread across the deck from the railing, hiding the flecks of dried blood scattered across the rough boards. No one pays enough attention to the green-robed man to notice him slipping into hiding, or at least no one risks disturbing the quiet to call attention to it.

After several minutes, the sounds of crickets in the distance break the silence, and the half-orc standing watch finally sets her crossbow aside. As if having waited for such a signal, the people aboard begin to relax slightly, and slowly but surely, conversations start to spring up again, although in low voices and only within the small groups of friends, the laughter and merriment heard before the ambush being nowhere to be found. The travellers huddled together in the back of the barge spread out a little to sit in small groups, a few lanterns are lit to sparsely light up the deck, and all around the vessel grim faces are slowly replaced by softer expressions.

The thin sliver of water the barge is traversing soon joins with what initially seems like a vast lake, the majestic river Ciles proper. Even in the late hour, a handful of river vessels can be seen in the distance, ranging from small fishing boats on route to deliver their daily catch to very large barges loaded with cargo crates and animal cages. No sails are set in the windless calm, and as darkness falls, leaving only a red glow on the horizon, the silhouettes of boats against the river are replaced by gently bobbing flecks of light.

The craft passes several smaller settlements along the river on the last stretch of the journey, clusters of abode huts sparingly illuminated by torches and cooking fires surrounded by vast clearings. The settlements soon start appearing closer to each other, until before long the entire river bank on both sides is entirely cleared of forest to make place for farmland, and the lights of the Alabaster City are visible in the distance. As the Ciles forks into two to envelop the island on which the great city is built, the barge is navigated into the larger flow, nearing the piers of the large harbour. Large watch towers of white stone flank the harbour inlet, and pillars erected from the riverbed span its width in regular intervals, anchoring a massive chain between them, guiding arriving boats into a narrow passage. As the barge enters the harbour, one of the crew members leaps across the dark water and scurries up to the men standing guard outside the city-side tower. While the ensuing discussion is not loud enough to overhear from the barge as it navigates further into the maze-like harbour, the crew member gestures heavily and points at the barge at more than one point.

Finding a place to moor the barge among the veritable sea of masts making up the harbour takes minutes, allowing the party assembled on board to take in the magnificent sight. The light of a thousand torches and a thousand more pierce the pitch darkness of the early night, illuminating the vast stretch of jumbled buildings in wood, abode, and masonry surrounding the city proper. People of all persuasions swarm the open spaces, and the clamour of traders shouting out their wares and bouncers calling for customers to enter their taverns gives the impression of business entirely unaffected by nightfall. Towering above the shanty-town below, however, stands the most prominent feature by far. The walls around the city proper stretch to a seemingly impossible height, reaching far into the darkness before again appearing in the light of braziers the size of men lining the parapet. Even in the poor light, the white walls gleam slightly with a polished, almost mirror-like sheen, and with the men and women in livery standing guard along the fortifications, the overall effect is truly awe-inspiring.

As the barge finally stops and is secured to a low wooden pier, four guards are already waiting. With their help, the crew members unload the unconscious on stretchers and carry them towards the city, on the wide tiled road leading up to the massive gatehouse, followed closely by the cleric and one of the other travellers. With the watchmen's help they bypass the long line of queueing people stretching from the gate and soon disappear inside the walls. Two crew members stay to guard the cargo until the return of their peers as the rest of the travellers disembark without exchanging more words than necessary.

[Anachronity]

Victor slinks off of the ship, hoping to avoid any additional accusations or the need to recount events. He watches impassively as the other passengers disembark and pays particular attention to the priest and the dragonoid.

The priest had expected something more of Victor, though what exactly he was not sure. If he thinks the life of one man is more valuable than the safety of the group then perhaps friendship is not an option...

The dragonoid was something that Victor thought he understood better: once in the Witchstone he had found a near-blind bear. The creature's poor had eyesight forced it to react to any noise and every foreign presence with fangs, claws, and murderous intent. Ironically its boistrous nature only attracted more attention; so distracting was it that Victor could stalk about with ease.

When the bear was embattled, Victor would aid it unseen. When their enemies were slain, Victor would claim what spoils the bear did not. Over time he thought that the bear began to recognize his presence even when it could not sense him, and he liked to think it accepted this strange partnership.

"I wonder, how alike are bears and dragons?"

[Battlemage]

Lucius grows quieter still as the barge draws nearer to the city. Despite spending his childhood in this place, Lucius had never seen what lay beyond the shining alabaster walls. They stood, tall and proud and arrogant, towering over the crumbling unsteady structures of the shanty-town, an impassable barrier to people like him. The view brought back memories for the half-dragon, few of them pleasant. The last time he had seen these walls had been many years ago, looking through a slit in the hull of a slave ship, sold into slavery by a greedy opportunist among the city guard. Back then he had been helpless, a weak and defenseless child. He was none of that anymore, and he had come to settle the score. They had condemned him to a crucible of blood and violence, and now they would meet the monster of their own creation.

It felt good to think like that. It made him feel powerful, no longer a helpless pawn in other people’s games. But as the barge arrives at the harbor, the reality of his situation sets in. The killing would be the easy part, as always, but everything else was a problem. How would he even find them? He didn’t have any connections left here, and spending his life in a concrete circle murdering things had not equipped him with much in the way of detective skills. But first things first. Before he could think about his revenge, he had to get back into form again. Looking for a fight with copious amounts of poison in his veins was not the way to go. Having come to a decision, Lucius sheaths his greatsword, now adequately cleaned, on his back, grabs his backpack and leaves the ship as soon as conditions permit it. On the docks, he lingers a bit, watching the other passengers, especially the half-giant warrior. He also looks for the green-robed man from the incident before, but can’t find him anywhere.

After satisfying his curiosity about the half-giant’s actions, he heads out into the shanty-town, looking for a healer of some kind.

[TheDragonmaster]

The half-giant briskly walks up the flagstone road to join the slow-moving queue leading to the gatehouse.
The jumble of buildings surrounding the walls stretch as far as the eye can see, and seemingly built without plan apart from avoiding the main road, it forms a labyrinthine web of winding alleys leading to haphazardly strewn out open squares. What little space is not occupied by buildings is crammed full with market stalls, tables, or animal pens, and what remains after that is sprawling with an unending stream of people of all races, some only reaching Lucius' waist, while others tower over even him by a foot or more.

Stalking the half-dragon through the crowded streets provide little problem due to his distinctive appearance, and Victor is confident he has not been spotted. His quarry moves seemingly without plan, however, and without any conversation to overhear, it is not evident where he is is headed or what he may be looking for.
Lucius' search is met with limited success. There is no shortage of vendors advertising remedies and potions ranging wildly in price, but without inquiring, finding someone with the skills of a healer in the disorganised mess of buildings seems an almost insurmountable task, and due to his inability to find one in his search, the half-dragon suspects that all of the temples are found within the walls.

[Battlemage]

No healing out here without special connections, huh? Sould have known that. Been away too long. Wonder if they'd let me into the city now. They didn't use to when he was a thieving and begging child, for obvious reasons.

The half-dragon decides to go give it a try, and moves toward the gates of the impressive city wall. Eventually, he'd have to get in there anyway, as his prey spent most of their time within the walls. Joining the masses of people flooding toward the city, he studies the guards and their behavior while waiting for his turn.

[Anachronity]

Victor had very occasionally been denied entry to a city in the past (he had once been mistaken for a drow with his dark skin and elven clothing!), but his skills in stealth assured that he did not remain outside of any city for long. Even so, these walls look nigh impregnable. He imagined other forms of ingress would be hard to find.

Regardless, upon seeing the dragonoid queue up in line his concerns lessen. If he can get in then certainly Victor would be allowed.

More uncomfortable is the thought of bearing any scrutiny while he was still so vulnerable from the poison.

[TheDragonmaster]

The line seems to have shortened significantly in the time Lucius spent wandering the labyrinthine streets of the settlement outside the walls, but joining it, he still finds himself several hundred feet from the gates. The trickle of people leaving the city at this hour is rather small compared to the numbers queuing to enter. While the queue is moving at a respectable pace, its length still means that before reaching close enough to the gatehouse to discern any detail of what goes on there, the half-dragon has time to witness not only more of the general bustle around him, but also the changing of the guard atop the walls as well as outside the gates.

Getting closer, the sheer size of the building that is the gatehouse becomes more immediately apparent, flanked at both sides by massive towers connected to the main city walls with lower, though still immense tall, walls to create an area before the gates enclosed on three sides. The towers and the low walls are manned as heavily as the main city walls, and livery-clad sentries stand guard outside the entrance in straight lines, in addition to the force managing the entrants to the city. These guards consist mainly of humans, though two orcs and a hulking lizardlike humanoid with black scales can be spotted along the ranks, and the proceedings are watched over by a minotaur that seems to be an officer of some sort.

Closer still, Lucius begin making out the procedure at the gates. Arriving people are approached and greeted, individually or in groups, by guards. Most present some sort of document and proceed to pass straight through the building, while some, mainly those accompanied by a wagon or a group of carriers, are taken to the side to fill in paperwork assisted by a staff of clerks or pay fees. A few people have their packs and carts searched, and a minority are even frisked before being allowed entry.

Finally reaching the gatehouse, the former gladiator is hardly surprised to find that his imposing appearance is drawing a lot of attention from the guards. The minotaur steps over to him, and unlike some of the other guards, seems nothing but content in Lucius' presence, even bearing a disarming smile.

The calm, friendly demeanour and body-language of the guardsman conflicts with the impression made by his tall, muscular frame, towering over even Lucius. His deep voice has a melodic quality to it, invoking the image of a bassoon or a clarinet.

"Welcome. What business have you in Cileum?"
I am assuming that Victor joins the line after Lucius does (somewhere around 15-30 people behind), if not, just let me know. I am describing the sights for Lucius more than for Victor because he is the first to see what I am describing, but everything readily apparent about the place for one of you is for the other as well, in case you were wondering about why I reference only the one character.

Also, I know I am a little obsessed with the fortifications, which is partially justified by me trying to establish their scale and the almost oppressive atmosphere they create, but I will at least try my best to avoid niche terminology such as referring to the neck of the barbicans and so on, I know some people are not as interested in medieval fortification and military engineering as I am (though fantasy tabletop RPG forums might be where to find such people).

[Battlemage]

Lucius trys his best to appear professional despite his torn clothes and half-healed battle-wounds. Sizing the minotaur up with a warrior's eye, he replies calmly:

"I'm a hired blade. Good one too. Looking for an employer that can afford my talents. Certainly won't find one out here." He grins conspiratorially, assuming the beast-man to know the worth of an exceptional sword arm.

[TheDragonmaster]

At the allusion to combat and violence, the minotaur eyes the bystanders as if to assure himself none of them overheard and were worried by Lucius words. His reply is free of worry, however, and while his voice is unchanged, something about his expression almost makes it seem a bit patronising.

"You certainly seem confident. Would you please follow me?"

He makes a sweeping gesture to indicate a valved open door leading to the side of the passage. the half-dragon has seen a handful of guards and clerks move in and out during the time the he has observed the gates, but no one seeking entrance has been taken aside out of sight.

[Battlemage]

Looks like that was the wrong thing to say. What a surprise, I'm such a people person after all... The half-dragon considers aborting the whole thing, but he has a feeling that they would not let him get away now, and he does not want to cause an attention-drawing disturbance at the moment.

Guess my only choice is to play along and hope for the best. Outwardly relaxed, Lucius follows the minotaur.

[TheDragonmaster]

The minotaur leads Lucius away through a side door, and two additional guards file in behind the half-dragon.

The guards escort Lucius through a series of office-like rooms to a long corridor that must run along the stretch of the outer wall. No carpets or tapestries on the bare stone floors and walls dampens the sounds of metal on metal escaping the small group, but the wooden furniture of excellent make still serves to grant the interior a pleasing aesthetic in the generous candle light. The air gets cooler as the group forays deeper into the structure, until at the end of the corridor the minotaur stops to open a wooden door, indicating the small room it leads into with the very same gesture as before.

"Would you please wait here?"

The room is furbished sparingly, with low benches along the walls, a drawer in a corner, and a table in the centre of the room. The table is empty apart from a pewter carafe accompanied by a matching set of six mugs on a beautifully carved wooden tray. Much like in the rest of the structure, candles held in holders on the walls light the room brightly.
Once the half-dragon is out of sight, a small commotion spreads among the crew at the gates. It dies down quickly, however, as Victor himself draws closer to the gate proper.

[Battlemage]

I'm in a dungeon once again, but at least it's a cozy one this time. So far, at least. Inwardly sighing, the half-dragon enters the indicated room and takes a position of waiting, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner.

Maybe they'll offer me a job? He smiles to himself about that little joke. As if...

Becoming more serious he finds himself in deep thought about what exactly it is about his behavior that makes him stumble from one bit of trouble to the next.

[TheDragonmaster]

This may seem like an inefficient way of dealing with things, handling you one at a time, but as you may know, I am the elected official spokesperson for the joint European and North American inefficiency industry.
Now only fifteen people and a handcart between him and the gate building, Victor observes a squad of city guards leave their posts in brisk march in the direction of the docks. Not until the closest of them are only a few paces from him, however, does he realise that he himself seems to be the object of their excursion. All in all the group encompasses six guards, five humans and an orc, in uniform worn over maille armour.
As Lucius enters the small room, the door is carefully drawn shut behind him but left unlocked, as if to grant him privacy rather than imprison him.

[Anachronity]

Victor regards the approaching guards with great suspicion, though now that they are headed towards him he doubts that they would appreciate it if he were to flee.

Instead Victor moves to an open area as furtively as possible, hoping that his fleetness of foot will be enough. He scans the guards for crossbows and other ranged weapons.

[TheDragonmaster]

As Victor moves aside, seemingly to inspect the horse ridden by the next person in line behind him, and turns his back on the approaching guards now spreading out as if to surround him, the closest one of them, now almost within arm's reach, addresses him in a calm but brisk manner.

"You there in the green robe, stand down and surrender your weapons."

That is the best I can do for you at this moment. The Bluff Check may have bought you a Surprise Round if you decide to make a run for it (giving the guards the impression they are going to surprise you rather than the other way around), and you have a straight path away, though it is a good 30 yards before you clear the watch towers, and then another 30 or 40 until you reach cover among the buildings outside the walls.

[Anachronity]

After one last moment eying the long sprint he would need to make to escape, Victor decides that it is enough that these guards do not appear outright hostile.

With concern in his voice, he asks: "Is there some problem? I don't mean to cause any trouble."

He slowly and visibly draws his daggers and drops them on the ground, holding his empty hands up.

[TheDragonmaster]

The queuing people close by are parting to make room for the approaching guard force; their reactions span the range from anxious to curious to uncaring. Victor is swiftly surrounded by the squad, is grabbed by the shoulders and has his wrists manacled behind his back.

"You are coming with us, criminal."

Seemingly relieved to encounter no resistance, two of the human guards return to their post. The illuminan is moved aside by the two guards holding him and almost dragged towards the gatehouse, where one of the clerks inspect him carefully. As if on cue, the guards escorting him remove his cloak and backpack, before moving him on further into the building.
Apart from contemplating his existence, is Lucius doing anything while left to his own devices?

[Anachronity]

How strange. Had word of the events on the barge already made it to the guards? Why had they made a show of this rather than simply apprehend him at the gate?

Second-guessing his choice to surrender, Victor would simply need to wait to see what this was about. He had not made any political enemies he was aware of, so this would likely be some sort of trial about the incident on the barge.

But hadn't they named him a criminal already? Perhaps the man he had killed had powerful friends...

[TheDragonmaster]

Once out of sight from the public, a hood is forced over Victor's head, and he is taken through winding corridors for what seems like an eternity. Despite trying to remember the turns, he loses track in his blinded and stumbling state, noting only that the floor remains the same smooth flagstone, that at one point he ascended a ramp of some kind, and that the air turns cooler as he is dragged deeper into the building.

When the guards moving him forward finally stops, Victor only has time to catch a brief glimpse of a stone corridor as the hood is removed before he is shoved into a small dark room and falls to the floor, his hands still in manacles. As the door slams shut behind him, accompanied by the ominous sound of a turning key, the omnipresent scent of burning candle wax mixes in his nostrils with the faint smell of drying blood.

[Anachronity]

Well this is odd...
Victor had never seen the inside of a prison cell before, or even the outside of one. He had supposed there would be some sort of drab waiting room or humorless desk clerk like when one is waiting to speak to an authority figure. Although the cell was very pleasantly dark and cold, he decided that bars were not for him. He would find no relief here from the lingering tightness in his chest left by the lizardling poison.

Victor spends a few hours examining his surroundings in great detail, waiting to see if someone would come to speak to him soon.

[TheDragonmaster]

I normally write player-specific spoilers in alphabetic order, but just this once I decided to do it chronologically to spice things up.
Having been left to his own thoughts for twelve or maybe seventeen minutes, Lucius hears the door slowly open before seeing the minotaur from before crouch to fit through the slightly too small portal. No other guards accompany him; in fact, no one seems to be standing guard outside the door either. The immense guardsman carries with him a wooden basin filled with clear water, setting it down on the table in the room and closing the door behind him before speaking.

"I can not give you any meaningful answers, so hold on to those questions a little longer."

The minotaur seems a little more relaxed and less formal than earlier, but his deep, melodic voice still makes it hard to get a good read on whether he does not know whatever he expects to be asked, or if he is simply unwilling to share his knowledge.

"I will need to seal your weapons; it would have been done at the gates, but you seem to have somehow avoided them... and if it makes it feel any better, also the attached fee. At least, for the benefit of those like you and me, there are no regulations on bringing sharp body parts inside the walls."

He reaches out a hand, clearly expecting Lucius to hand over his weapons, giving the half-dragon a look simultaneously meaningful and almost a little stern.

"I trust you will not make this difficult."

I am assuming here that Lucius actually relinquishes his weapons (that is, the sword and throwing spears), if unwillingly. It seems a little out of character, yes, especially given his bad history with the Cilean city guard, yet the minotaur seems strangely benevolent, and the reception so far has been mostly mysterious rather than hostile.

Also, from an entirely pragmatic standpoint, the minotaur is double the size of Lucius and uninjured. Picking a fight without knowing exactly what is on the line or even for that matter what is going on seems a rather risky proposition.

Mostly, it moves things along and I have rewritten this passage a few times too many already :smallsigh:.
The guardsman proceeds to "seal" the weapons handed to him, working with the automatic motions of long practice, talking while so occupied. The process involves first tying the weapons together tightly with twine, then folding the bundle so formed in a brightly orange-coloured canvas. After trimming the excess canvas, the entire package is tied together with a sparse lattice of thin metal wire, which is finally sealed together at several points with globs of wax poured from a candle on the wall and stamped to form wax seals.

"You might as well take the time to wash yourself. I would have brought you a change of clothes, but ironically, I could not find anything in your size."

After finishing the procedure, and awaiting whatever preparations Lucius may choose to engage in, the minotaur opens the door and leads the half-dragon into the corridor outside. Walking for about double the distance that brought them to the room in the first place, through several doors, some of them locked, and series of turns hard to commit to memory, the pair finally pass through what seems like disused sleeping quarters and emerge under the night sky.

The former gladiator is quickly ushered into an elegant horse-drawn covered carriage with thick drawn curtains, but before stepping inside, he manages to catch a brief glimpse the surroundings, confirming the suspicion that he is now indeed within the city walls. The building whence he just emerged is very much a part of the wall, whose immense width is only apparent when viewed from the inside. On the inside of its gently curving arch lies the city proper, from this vantage point only discernible as the silhouettes of spires and pinnacles reaching into the star-speckled darkness.

Once inside the carriage, its exterior more than matching its exterior in elegance, the half-dragon is joined by his escort, who barely fits his horn-crowned head beneath the ceiling. Without any discernible exchange of words or signalling, the horses take off. The side windows being completely covered, Lucius is unable to see the city around them, but the sounds of hooves and wheels on flagstone is soon joined by more of its kind and by a carpet of lowered voices and other sounds, suggesting the city within the walls sees traffic and activity during night time as well, though not nearly in the abundance seen outside them.

The trip seems short, though judging the distance travelled would be difficult, and soon the carriage stops. The minotaur clambers out, and Lucius follows into a small walled garden of sorts surrounding a mansion-like building, two- or perhaps three stories tall, continuing through what could only be a side entrance for servants and a very modest cloakroom into a lavishly furnished corridor. Everything is extravagantly decorated, though not necessarily in ways that match each other, not giving the impression of tasteful design as much as a display of wealth.

The half-dragon is brought into a small room, seemingly a waiting room, with stools lining one side of a long table, akin to a desk, stretching the width of the room. The door opposite the one he entered is a large double door, making out the majority of the wall. At the table awaits a large serving plate of dried and candied fruit alongside glass-and-metal cups and a beautiful porcelain teapot. The minotaur sets down the canvas bundle containing Lucius' weapons in a corner and gestures widely towards the desk.

"I am afraid you will have to wait here for a little longer. I will be back shortly."

No further detail is given, and the minotaur leaves, closing the door behind him as he does. The noise of movement is present in the house, and Lucius can hear distant conversation, but he can make out no words or even which language the speakers are using. The noises almost exclusively seem to come from at least one floor above him, however.

As you can see I have moved things along quite a bit here. Let me know if there are any things in particular Lucius would have done and we can work through such things in due time. For example, if he would say anything to or ask anything of his escort/warden, if he would take any of the food/drink or wash the blood off, what he would agree with immediately and what he would be reluctant to do, if he is on the lookout for anything in particular, et cetera.

Also if there are things you would want described in further detail, that would be a nice thing to add.
Almost half an hour passes before he hears approaching footsteps again, and this time, the minotaur has with him someone the former gladiator recognises...
After being left alone in the darkness for the better part of an hour, Victor hears something so unexpected that he for a moment believes it to be imagination, a soft knock on the door. It is soon followed by the rustling of keys, however, and the sound of the door unlocking. As the strong door swings open, he can see only a hulking silhouette in the opening, his eyes taking several seconds to adjust to the bright light enough to discern the outline as belonging to a towering minotaur, ducking down to fit below a door frame clearly not intended for a creature of its size.

"Thank you, Valeria. That will be all."

"Yes sir."

The creature dismisses an unseen person, and a female voice utters a short salute from outside the cell before Victor hears the sounds of an armoured person walking away down the corridor. The minotaur steps inside the cramped room, hunched over uncomfortably, to take a closer look at the illuminan.

"Not to worry, I am not here to hurt you, unless you choose not to cooperate. It would be an unwise choice, I assure you."

The minotaur's voice is deep but simultaneously soft and melodic, and though his eyes look hard and stern, he moves with a softness to his movements that make him seem very calm and relaxed.

"There will be no need for the manacles, I trust."

He struggles to find a key on a small keyring, and reaches to unlock Victor's manacles, simultaneously lifting him to a standing position and placing a hand on the illuminan's shoulder as a rather unsubtle reminder of his presence. The warlock is urged to move outside the room, and is led, heavy hand on shoulder, out of the corridor with cells, down a ramp, and through several corridors until they finally stop outside a room and the minotaur signs for Victor to walk inside.

The room is furbished sparingly, with low benches along the walls, a drawer in a corner, and a table in the centre of the room. On the table stands a large basin filled with water, and a bundle of assorted fabric lays to its side.

"Wash yourself and get dressed, we need you to look presentable."

The water is clear and fresh, but a faint red smudge adorns the edge of the basin. On closer inspection, the cloth bundle turns out to consist of a linen towel wrapped around a neatly folded vest in white silk satin and matching breeches, along with a pair of light wooden sandals. The minotaur looks on impatiently as Victor changes, and gathers his discarded clothes in a jute sack before ushering him out of the room again. This time, the walk is even longer, navigating the labyrinthine criss-cross of intersecting corridors, leaving the warlock plenty of time to consider the weight of the palm resting on his clavicle.

At last the illuminan and his warden enter an empty dormitory and exits through a locked door out in a small flagstone courtyard where a beautiful horse-drawn covered carriage awaits them immediately outside the door. From the brief moments before Victor is ushered into the carriage, he can see the towering wall rise behind him, and for the first time he sees the outline of the city proper rising into the night sky, the majestic domes of palaces challenging the elaborate towers of others.

Climbing into the carriage, the warlock notes the heavy drapes covering the windows, lending a prisoner transport feeling even to such an item of luxury. The inside is as comfortable as it is exquisite, with softly cushioned seats, something the minotaur seems less able to enjoy as he follows Victor to take the seat opposite him, hunched over, his massive frame barely fitting in the carriage at all. The horses take off the moment the door is drawn shut, and the minotaur sits quietly the entire journey, allowing the illuminan to concentrate its attention on the sounds of the city around them. People talking and moving about, handcarts and wagons being drawn by hand or by horse, and in the distance what can only be two cats fighting. The noise is dampened, more subtle than it was outside of the walls, giving the night time city a bit of a dignified air.

After several minutes of slow trotting on the flagstone roads and several more almost still, navigating through crowds, the ride comes to its end. The minotaur climbs out and signals his ward to follow, and Victor finds himself in the walled garden around a small palace. The building, while hard to appreciate in the perspective provided, looks graceful, and somehow still imposing against the backdrop of the sky above. Swiftly being ushered in through a side entrance, the warlock finds himself in a cramped cloakroom, seemingly meant for servants, with his warden and another person, an old human of wiry build, in gold- and white livery quite unlike that of the city. The woman gives Victor a long, inquisitive look.

"This is the final one?"

"Yes."

"Very well. I will notify my master."

The elderly woman hands the minotaur a large envelope stamped with a seal in golden wax and leaves up a small staircase. Victor is led through a small set of doors into a grandiose corridor, adorned with expensive furniture and artwork.

"Your accomplice is waiting for you."

The minotaur opens a door to a side room and signals for the illuminan to enter it. The room is rather small, its centrepiece being a long desk-like table lined on one side with stools, reaching almost from wall to wall, and a large double door making for most of the wall on the opposite side of the table. On the table stands a large serving tray with preserved fruit and a porcelain teapot, still steaming. Rather than to the furniture or the delicacies, however, Victor's attention is immediately drawn to the monstrous being already in the room, turned to the door before it opened; none other than the draconic man from the barge ride earlier, Lucius.

As you can see I have moved things along quite a bit here, assuming full compliance at all steps in my writing. Let me know if there are any things in particular Victor would have done and we can work through such things in due time. For example, if he would say anything to or ask anything of his escort/warden, whether he would resist or conflict any particular turn of the venture, and so on.

Also if there are things you would want described in further detail, that would be a nice thing to add.

[TheDragonmaster]

Just dividing the new post in two to mark extra hard that the spoilers go before the following passage.
Once Victor enters the room where Lucius is awaiting him, the minotaur takes a few steps into the room to reach across the desk, knocking on the large double doors with his heavy fist, and then retreats the way he came, closing the door behind him to leave the two alone in the room, if only for a moment. The knock is soon answered by the great double doors being swung open outwards into a larger room by two men in gold- and white uniforms. They return without word to take a seat in an alcove somewhat recessed in the side of the large room, where two women in matching uniforms stand watchful over the room, bows in hand but otherwise relaxed.

The centre of the room is open, unoccupied apart from a small lectern, but in the far end of the room, a large chair, throne even, stands facing towards the wall. The throne is obscured by a veil of transparent thin fabric sheets suspended from the ceiling, making only its outline clearly discernible. The room is otherwise sparsely but elegantly decorated, with framed paintings on the walls and a small brazier in a corner burning incense.

As soon as the servants return to their seats, a voice addresses the two newcomers from behind the veil. The clear, bright voice is that of a relatively young person, hard to tell whether that of a young man or of a young woman.

"Welcome, travellers! Take a seat, eat and drink, make yourself comfortable. You must surely have some questions by now, allow me to attempt to answer but a few of them. Do not mind the bodyguards, by the way."

A straight arm reaches out from the throne behind the veils and makes a complex series of signs hard to make out through the veils. The two armed guards nod at the symbol, and stamp hard twice in the floor with their right feet. Surprisingly, not a single sound escapes their display of power, indicating that some sort of sound-cancelling magic is surely afoot.

"The city guards seldom enforce the law at all for any but the most heinous crimes committed committed outside of the walls, not to speak of off the island itself. It seems you have made an enemy capable of giving them an incentive not only to act but to do so swiftly. You were both to be jailed for murder and abetting, and left imprisoned for a long time."

"However, I happen to be in need of the help of a few strangers from out of town, and I had Celsus be on the lookout for any such strangers that would easily disappear off the record. You see, not only am I in luck, so are you. There was a mix-up, and you were both executed tonight, thus no one will be looking for you."

[Battlemage]

Lucius has not reached any epiphanies about his life when the minotaur returns to the room. The request to seal his weapons doesn't surprise him much, in fact he had been wondering why he had been allowed to keep them up to this point. He had known many men, all considering themselves "dangerous", who made keeping their weapons a point of pride, starting huge commotions when asked to relinquish them for a time. Those men were foolish. A true warrior was a weapon in and of themselves, indepent of their armory. Lucius needed his steel even less, considering the natural armament and shaping magic at his disposal. Thus he hands his black blade and short spears over to the beast-man without argument. They both knew this was pointless formality.

He accepts the bowl of water with thanks, taking delight in finally washing off the filth and blood of combat. In regards to cleaning himself, he followed the soldier's code on sleeping: do it whenever you get a chance, you never know how long you might have to go without it. The water doesn't do much to make his martial artist's outfit and black chain shirt presentable for decent company (if that was in store for him), but it wasn't as if he'd ever owned any more fashionable clothes.

He follows the minotaur quietly, observing his surroundings as well as possible on the way. Once he sees the elegant carriage, a cold suspicion takes root in the pit of his stomach, both terrifying and titillating at the same time. He doesn't voice it, of course. His guide wouldn't answer anyway, and giving away information for free was always foolish. The luxurious mansion they arrive at only deepens his suspicion. He could think of only one reason, one person, that would make people from this elevated sphere of society notice him.

In the waiting room he takes a position against the wall again, not trusting the expensive-looking chairs with his weight. He takes liberally from the offered food and drink, realizing that whoever was meeting him here would have had far better opportunities to kill him than a poisoning within (presumably) their own residence. Also, he couldn't remember when he'd last eaten and was quite hungry. Thus when the minotaur returns, leading another person into the room, they find Lucius throwing dried apricots upwards and snapping them out of the air with his fangs to pass the time. When the half-dragon recognizes the man from the ship, he is immediately flooded by a combination of relief and disappointment. The man's presence implied that this whole mysterious ordeal was likely about the incident on the ship. That, in turn, meant it was likely that she wasn't involved after all. He was unsure how he felt about that.

After the minotaur leaves the two alone for a second, Lucius takes a hard look at the other man. "What have you gotten me involved into?"


Taking a break here to allow Anachronity to react to everything up to this point first, before we continue with the audience

[Anachronity]

Victor had seen stranger creatures than this, but only in the past week or so had he met anything so bestial that did not want to kill him.

He pondered for a moment the effect that civilized society seemed to have on this minotaur and some others monstrous citizens he had seen in the city. Only a recent inductee himself to the societies of the wider world, he resolved that he should try to find even more unusual citizens in the future to see how far this goes.

He follows the minotaur's stern direction without comment, although physical contact was never something Victor enjoyed or was used to. Its simple intimidation technique is thus markedly effective. When instructed to dress, Victor only then realized how dirty he had become. Dirt was hard to see on his skin, and sweat a discomfort he had long since grown used to. As he donned the clothes presented, he decided to inquire about his cloak.

"Valeria, is it? What, ah... what has become of my other belongings?"

As the walk continues, Victor is unhappy to learn that the minotaur's hand would remain on his shoulder. The carriage which they eventually board is far closer in nature to the austerity he had come to expect when meeting with authority figures. This was how things were supposed to go, as far as he knew. He assumes that this was about the incident on the barge, since he had not committed any other crimes to his own knowledge. As such, he spends the ride trying to formulate an appropriate explanation for his actions for whatever judge or marshal would be hearing his case.

When finally shown into the room, he is not wholly surprised to see Lucius again. He is surprised, however, that there are not more people here from the barge. When the dragonoid asked him what this was, he responded directly, as if the answer were not already obvious: "I think this is about the events on the barge."


Victor was significantly more reluctant to eat than was his draconic companion. The strange vegetation of the Witchstone could do far worse than kill you, and had given him a healthy fear of unknown consumables. He took a cup of the tea but left the fruits untouched. He waited patiently as the silhouette spoke, and was surprised to learn that no sort of trial was about to commence.

[TheDragonmaster]

Seeing that my ordinary way of keeping conversations legible through colour coding did not work... the minotaur called the female person, presumably guard, outside the cell-like room Valeria, his own name is as of right now unknown to you (and I am adjusting for that in this "reply").
At the inquiry about Victor's possessions, the minotaur stays silent, rewarding the illuminan with a stern look, but follows it by glancing back briefly at the pack slung over his shoulder, either subconsciously or as a deliberate hint.
The dried fruit is sweetened as to approach the sweetness the candied fruits and berries, in stark contrast to the tea, which, being flavoured with aromatic herbs, is incredibly bitter.

[Battlemage]

At Victor's answer, the half-dragon gives an exasperated sigh. "I got that part on my own, thank you. What I want to know...". Before he gets further in expressing his displeasure with the current situation, the doors in front of the pair open and his attention turns away from his companion. He enters, giving the armed guards are measuring look, trying to determine their ability and professionalism, as well as the quality of their weapons.

When the figure behind the veils speaks, Lucius listens impassively. At their last sentence, he breaks into a harsh laugh. "So, I'm dead again, huh? Must be the third time now." He pauses, thinking about everything he just learned. "You got a job for me. That's fine, I'm for hire. But lets get some things straight. You might think I owe you for hiding me from whatever enemies we might have made." He pauses again. There was no way to tell if the mysterious enemies that supposedly had them incarcerated existed at all. The whole thing might have just as well been orchastrated by this person to make Victor and himself amenable to their plans.
"I didn't ask you to do anything of the sort. I can fight my own battles, and if I lose, then so be it. If what you say is the truth, I am grateful to you, and that might factor into my answer. Nevertheless I am not in your debt or obligated to you in any way. I will hear your offer, and I will accept or decline depending on my liking. If that displeases you, I guess you can kill me and dump my body in the river, since we're already dead and all. Might cost you one or two of those pretty guards, though. Would be a shame to get blood on those fashionable uniforms." He grins with a look over to the men and women inside the sound-proof field. He had not missed the implied threat in their host's explanation of their situation.

He knew what he was doing was stupid. There was nothing to be gained by bravado or grandstanding here. But he was so, so tired. So tired of being someone's pawn at every turn, wherever he went. Always involved in pointless secret competitions of power and influence, competitions he neither understood nor had any stakes in. He just did not care any more. He would do as he pleased, since trying to play their game had never done him any good anyway. Everything he said was the truth, might the gods do with it as they pleased.

[TheDragonmaster]

It is always hard to accurately assess a target's level of combat expertise, especially without formal training, but the private guards are definitely physically fit, and Lucius would wager they can handle their bows with some skill.

The two women stand guard, keeping a vigilant watch over the room in general and on the half-dragon and his incidental companion in particular, while the two men sit relaxed on a wooden bench, one of them reading, though still occasionally throwing watchful glances over the room.

Their bows and armour mirrors the equipment of the state guard and is of excellent make. Unlike the guardsmen at the walls, however, the private bodyguards carry no polearms, instead wearing swords at the belt in elaborate scabbards. Without seeing the blades the swords could be anything from purely decorative to the works of a master sword-smith, but whatever their actual worth in combat, they must be expensive.
"On the contrary... you indeed owe me a favour, your choice is merely whether or not to honour that debt."

The voice again pauses briefly before continuing.

"Should you decline my offer anyway, I trust merely asking you to leave would save my staff the effort of having to haul your corpse outside. Threatening them will do you little good, by the way; they are unable to hear us."

Again the unseen speaker takes a short pause, as if to collect its thoughts, before continuing.

"Now, unless you want to exchange further pleasantries, let me explain my problem. Two keepers have died recently, been assassinated if I am correct, and while suspicious deaths and the occasional overt assassination are not exceedingly rare, even of upstanding citizens, the identities of the deceased makes this particular case too unlikely to ascribe to coincidence. I hired an esteemed investigator to look into the circumstances of the deaths about a week ago and no one has heard from her since, and as you can imagine I have had some difficulty finding another who will now take the job."

"That is why I need you. You are not known investigators, or my employees, or the employees of my associates. You are strangers to Cileum, and as such, you might not draw the attention of those behind this... at least not at first."

"As for a reward, the simplest solution would obviously be currency. Given my position, however, I am able to offer a great deal more, likely at lesser expense than most, so if you have more particular desires, I am open to suggestions. Licenses, goods, information... this is the city of opportunity, and you surely came here with something in mind."

[Battlemage]

Lucius shrugs at the noble's response. After his position has been stated without any violent consequences, the half-dragon falls into a buisness-like tone, the previous emotion nowhere to be found.

"I guess we'll have to disagree on that debt thing. It's of no matter, anyway, as your offer of currency or goods is enough to interest me. Plus a little help in a personal matter, which should be trivial for a person of your apparent connections. I'm sure the details can be worked out."

He pauses for a moment. His thoughts drift of to her again, wondering how this conversation would be going if she hadn't taught him how to speak in high society. Not that he followed her teachings nearly as much as she would like. But at least he more often than not expressed his rudeness in a more eloquent way now, as opposed to his crude, slum-born manner of speaking before.

Bringing his mind back to the situation at hand, he focuses on his prospective employer again.
"I make it clear to my clients that my talents are of a quite singular nature. I have a talent for violence, for good or ill, and that is what you are buying. I am certainly no private investigator." He turns to his strange companion from the ship. "But maybe that is what he is for."
Turning back to the noble, he concludes: "In any case, if that is understood and accepted we can proceed to the details."

[Anachronity]

Victor is unsure what to make of the offer. He has no small love for magical items and trinkets, and such wonders are always steep in price...

Though he had never been the sort to risk his life for another, he had found relative wealth in doing so very selectively. It seems to him that this whole strange ordeal might have turned into an opportunity of the very same sort. He considers the proposal carefully as this strange silhouetted... being... explains it. He continues to consider as the dragonoid has his say, and is not quite finished considering when the dragonoid refers to him.

"Hmm, no I can't say I've performed any investigations of that sort. I could avoid notice with little difficulty, however, and if you are simply looking for a pair of poor souls to trigger some trap and try their best not to die afterwards then I would like to think we can perform admirably. And of course, investigators must learn their trade somehow."

[TheDragonmaster]

"I would not have had Celsus choose people like you, infamous killers laden with weapons and magical artefacts, were I not expecting a measure of violence be necessary. I have, as mentioned, reason to suspect there are those who would not willingly have further details of the deaths surface. Should you..."

The speaker begins voicing the next word, but interrupts itself with a barely audible sigh as a small door disguised as a wall panel swings open behind the guards' alcove. A boy in livery matching that of the guards enters with his head bowed, inaudibly sets a lacquered wooden box on the floor in the middle of the alcove, then leaves closing the door behind him, his gaze never rising from the floor. The guards barely seem to notice to boy, and unseen speaker resumes as if nothing had happened once the door closes again.

"Should you uncover proof of a plot and the identity of those behind it, you will be handsomely rewarded, as mentioned. At that moment we will no longer have any business unless you should wish to conduct any above what my proposal entails. Until then, you are in my employ, and I will provide you a weekly salary to cover any expenses, at least until such time I decide your services are no longer required. You are to report twice weekly to my security officer at some public locale, this is to be the extent of our contact after this meeting."

The speaker's voice changes subtly, sounding slightly amused, apparently addressing Lucius, and while still far from certain, you begin to suspect it might be that of a young woman.

"The nature of your mentioned personal matter, however, intrigues me greatly. What might such a prideful warrior ask for help with, from a complete stranger, no less?"

[Anachronity]

Victor chuckles softly and comments after their benefactor describes the planned arrangement...

"A weekly salary? And here I was going to ask for money up front like some common thug."

[Battlemage]

Lucius still isn't clear about how exactly their new employer expected him to uncover any information that they didn't manage to find out themselves. It didn't much matter. If this noble was willing to pay, he'd try his best. If he didn't get anywhere, well, a few weeks of having his expenses paid for was still not a bad deal.

He smiles when his pride is mentioned. He thought himself a pragmatic man. Not much use for pride in a life like his. Maybe that was exactly the reason it sometimes crept up on him unexpdectedly, though.

"My favor's a simple one. I have two names. I need locations and someone to redirect any interest should some unfortunate fate befall the holders of said names. Shouldn't be much trouble for one as connected as you. If it turns out they are no longer in Cileum, I will be content with a general location to pursue after our business has concluded, though I assume at least one of them is still here."

He did not volunteer more than that. I she (he'd begun to think of their employer as female, not that it mattered) wanted to know more, he was sure she had the means to find out by herself. Maybe she even already knew. He was sure she'd have had their backgrounds checked before she had them brought here.

[TheDragonmaster]

The amused quality of the speaker's voice is gone when it again resumes, leading you to second-guessing the gender assessment.

"That explains your business here, at least. While I suspect finding someone for you should be simple enough, the second part of your request seems a little out of my reach, or yours in this case, to be more precise. As a counteroffer, I may be able to lend a hand in eluding such attention."

"Either way you choose, my offer stands as follows. Your weekly compensation will consist of ten gold pieces each. The reward for a finished job is nine hundred gold pieces each, less twenty for each week commenced of the investigation... and of course I will be deducting my expenses to find your people. Are these terms agreeable?"

The unseen speaker takes a break as if to wait for a reply, but adds another inquiry, again sounding rather amused.

"On that subject, however, would you be so kind as to divulge the names of your bounties, or your traitorous former business partners, or whomever you are looking for? The runaway bride and her new lover, perhaps?"

[Battlemage]

Lucius smiles grimly at the thought of being married to his enemies.

"As long as you can get me out of the city afterward, I don't care about other consequences. Your terms are agreeable. As to the names..."

He pauses shortly, remembering their hated faces.

"It's been over a decade since I last saw them. Lothar Gordianus, the weasel-faced maggot, then a sergeant in the city guard. Wouldn't surprise me if he was still in the same position after all that time. On the other hand it also wouldn't surprise me if someone else had already slit his throat. And then there's Fabius Augustus, peddler of flesh and other disgusting things. He's the more formidable of the two, since he actually has something resembling a brain. If he's stayed in the city and continued his operations, you have probably heard of him by now."

[TheDragonmaster]

Lucius' information is met with the scrawling sound of a feather pen on paper, then silence, as your host seemingly awaits Victor's response as well before continuing. The faint smell of jasmine that has been felt since your arrival is fading, being replaced and concealed by heavier tones of musk.

[Anachronity]

Victor starts with a slow nod.

"Yes, that seems agreeable to me. I trust that our valuables will also be returned?"

Victor thinks back to the strange minotaur from before, and can't help but to imagine the imposing weight of its hand on his shoulder, where once hung his beloved cloak.

[TheDragonmaster]

"Valuables? Your weapons you mean? I understand they have already been returned to you, have they not?"

Without leaving pause for an answer, the speaker continues.

"Anyway... you may, of course, encounter some difficulty trying not to draw attention to yourselves; you hardly look inconspicuous. I have acquired these brooches for that very purpose, for you to use as you see fit while in my employ. They are enchanted with illusory magic, able to change the appearance of the wearer at a whim, thus allowing one to pass as someone else for hours. When leaving this building, I would have you take the guise of two of the guards, who are staying here for the night... just in case. And remember that while you may fool most everyone with such a disguise, there are certainly ways to pierce it, the gate guard employs magi for this very reason. Use your judgement."

Slight movement is visible behind the veils, and as if commanded, one of the male guards stands, picking up the wooden box only just delivered. He takes it to your alcove-like room and places it on the table in front of you, opening the lid slightly away from himself for you to see its contents before he leaves again, returning to his previous position. Resting in the large, felt-lined box are two matching brooches, cameos carved from the shells of some sea creature, the size of a large coins. The brooches each feature a face in relief, one what looks like a human woman with short hair, the other a savage-looking goblinoid of some kind.

The soft felt lining of the box has several additional depressions of the same size as those made by the two brooches.

[Battlemage]

"Magical disguise brooches, huh. Yeah, not a bad idea."

Lucius steps toward the chest and studies the jewelry. If he knew how things went for him, and he usually did, he'd get stuck with the ugly goblinoid one. Just because he looked like a monster to most made them assume he only liked monstrous things. He grabs the one with the short-haired woman instead. Defying fate, even in this miniscule way, felt good.

[Anachronity]

Do they know the value of the cloak? Victor thinks back to when he acquired the cloak, how when he first set out from his home and to the wider world, he had found it neatly hanging from the branch of a tree, seemingly placed there for him. He recognized it for what it was, as he had heard of such cloaks from his time among the elves. Still, had it truly been meant for him? and by whom had it been gifted?

Drawn from his thoughts by the presentation of these brooches, Victor approaches the box curiously. As he does so, he takes care to note whether or not Lucius had all of his belongings from before. If their benefactor feigned ignorance as to the whereabouts of their belongings then it would be better to have the dragonoid on his side.

He decided the cloak was best kept a secret, just in case its value had not been discerned. With a chuckle, he begins:

"The guards have apparently felt no need to return my weapons thus far... More importantly, they have confiscated my pack, and the coins and supplies contained within."

He picked up the goblinoid brooch and examined it. After a thoughtful pause, he added in a jocular, nasally, prudish tone: "and my lovely traveling cloak!"
he did not want anything to be 'accidentally forgotten'...

[TheDragonmaster]

"That is somewhat unexpected, my instructions were to extract you in as favourable a mood as possible; failing to recover your confiscated possessions seems contrary to that idea. Then again it might simply have been too difficult a task to carry out without drawing undue attention to the fact that your arrest may not have proceeded quite according to protocol. Best case, Celsus might attempt to recover your coin and goods and deliver them to me later."

The voice, having taken on tones betraying amusement, returns to its normal, matter-of-fact, state.

"Now, my time is precious and I must soon be on my way; you must have questions that need answering and I might at least have some of the answers, so let us use the time efficiently. What do you need to know to begin your investigation?"

Lucius looks much as he did back on the barge a few long hours ago, wearing the same clothes and carrying mostly the same items, with the glaring exception that his large black sword and the quiver of short throwing spears are missing, a fact that utterly fails to make him look any less imposing... and the small but immediately obvious detail provided by the small shell cameo of a gnome in profile delicately held in his large clawed hand.

When Victor picks up its twin, depicting a goblin or somthing similar, the knowledge of its method of activation and control comes to him, as if he had always known it.
Touching the small brooch, Lucius is instantly overcome with the awareness of how to activate and control the magic of the item, though he would not be able to really explain it. No other aspects of its workings are so revealed.

[Anachronity]

"The most obvious question would be where to start. Where were these two associates of yours at their time of death?, where are they now?, who were they?, why might they have been killed?, how were they killed?"

Victor lists these questions off casually, as if they were part of some standard procedure. Of course he'd never actually done this before, so he strained his mind for more questions even as he spoke.

[TheDragonmaster]

"Associates of mine?"

The voice loses a measure of its composure, a hair of surprise or amusement weaving itself into its otherwise formal edge, and the hidden figure takes another brief pause.

"I am afraid that, flattered as I might be, I have led you to a misconception; I neither knew any of the two deceased particularly well personally, nor would I have considered myself their peer. Aelius Milo and Junia Laurus were keepers of Cileum, and I presently am not. But ah, where to start indeed?"

"As for who they were, I can give you little detail beyond what is widely known. As keepers they were both upstanding citizens, and wealthy at that. Aelius traded primarily in raw and cut gemstones and spent a large portion of his time personally supervising his operations within the walls, he owned, for instance, the renowned eponymous gemcutting shop in the industrial district, though its name might now of course be subject to change."

"Through what means Junia amassed her riches I can but speculate, but vast they were if one is to believe the rumours. She was only occasionally seen publicly attending social functions, and as far as anyone knows never offered her hand to anyone, which likely means her estate befalls the city. I could not even tell you where she lived, if she in fact did live within the walls at all."

"Junia's body was encountered in the morning at the bottom of a staircase in the Academia Silentii, two weeks ago yesterday, while Aelius was found dead twelve days later in his private study. They had both been stabbed through the neck with daggers, bleeding out where they lay. I can only hope they are with the gods, but as I assume you were thinking of the bodies, Junia was presumably buried last week in a private tomb, a parade was held in her honour at any rate. Aelius is to have a state funeral three days from now; I would assume his body is laying in an embalmery until then, or perhaps in the grand temple."

"The similar circumstances are somewhat suspicious by themselves, but the main reason their deaths raises suspicion I am afraid I can not divulge, at least not directly. Suffice to say they were both sharing a certain opinion in an important matter, and that their fate may significantly impact decisions made concerning that very subject in the near future."

The voice lowers slowly at the end, until the last sentence is almost a loud whisper.

One week is ten days long.

[Anachronity]

"You'll have to forgive my lack of familiarity with Cileum... What is a 'keeper', exactly?"

Estate befalls the city? I suppose that if this is about money then it could be a city official we're looking for. The thought of getting into this "political intrigue" he had occasionally heard about sets his spine atingle. More agonizing still is this secret-keeping; Victor strains himself to resist blurting out "What is it!?", like an overly enthusiastic child. Instead he pauses just long enough to form a more articulate question, but not long enough for a response to the prior query.

"and As strangers to the city you can be assured that we have no political agenda. Even if we are only nominally investigators, I'm sure you can agree there is an obvious and immediate benefit to our knowing what that 'very subject' is."

Though his face is presumably not visible to their newfound employer behind the veil, Victor wears a charming smile regardless.

though I insist that this is actually a Gather Information check for the +1 luck bonus!
[roll0]

(that being a +1 bonus on the die roll itself! everyone knows Gather Information is more lucky.)

[Battlemage]

Lucius' head swirls as the veiled noble goes into the long explanation of the circumstances of their case. The half-dragon couldn't stand the constant and pointless games of powerful and rich people that usually only led to them becoming slightly more or less powerful and rich, depending on their fortune. Only very rarely did they actually suffer serious consequences, consequences that their pawns and henchmen had to bear every day. But this was a job now, so he forces himself to follow the river of information as best he could, with mixed results. At the end of it, he doesn't feel much smarter or more knowledgable than before. His companion seemed to grasp it though, so Lucius lets him continue taking the lead in this part of the conversation.

[TheDragonmaster]

"Who are the keepers? Again I apologise for having assumed too much."

"Cileum was founded not by aristocrats, nor officers, nor the clergy, but by merchants. Rich enough to lay the grounds for a city, yes, and in time even to establish the great roads and to erect walls, but commoners nontheless. Their purpose was for every man and woman to have the freedom of the city, to enter and leave as they wished and to trade their goods to whomever they chose."

"A city like this one does not spring from the ground by itself, however; architects, masons, stonecutters, builders, roofers... even the fire watch and the guard... they do not work for free, and their salaries are all owed to tolls and taxes. The original founders collected the taxes, and chose where to spend them, and as compensation for their investment, they traded free of taxation. They were the first keepers of Cileum. In time, they left or passed away, and others with riches to invest took their places."

"Today? The keepers still own the city, and choose its course. Anyone can, with the right offer, buy a place among their ranks, though only some who do declare that status publically. Most citizens, myself included, learned that Junia was a keeper only after her death, and few would have expected it who knew of her at all. Which brings me to our dilemma."

"Even those known to be keepers generally keep their opinions to themselves, sharing only with those they trust. Divulging the requested information could implicate others, which is enough for me to consider it betraying such a trust. More to the point, knowing which side the deceased were on in this particular matter would neither help you find those sharing their stance nor those opposing it, and even if it would, I would prefer to uncover something more incriminating than a motive based on my guesswork before considering the matter settled."

While the voice speaks, the two female guards lower their weapons and take their seats, being replaced by their male colleagues, who assume the roles of keeping their watchful eyes on the room, Lucius and Victor in particular.

[Anachronity]

Doing a poor job of hiding his disappointment, Victor responds: "Well, if you're sure that all you need is two pairs of eyes and the sword arms that they're attached to, I suppose I have no further questions."

[Battlemage]

Lucius has not the slightest clue how to go about the nebulous task they have been given. Nevertheless it was becoming quite obvious that asking more questions would not make things any clearer. So he just nods in agreement to his compatriot's words.

"Yes, let's get to it. Do you have a base of operations you want us to work from, or do we find our own? And how will we contact you if we have to?"

The half-dragon is feeling quite weary by now. It had been a very long day. Physically he could keep such a pace near forever, but the constantly shifting situations and circumstances, and the thinking work they required, were not his strong point. None of his mental exhaustion shows in his posture though, which remains relaxed, but attentive.

[TheDragonmaster]

"I would not so easily disregard the measure of finesse the investigation may require, I merely wish not to bias its outcome."

Responding to the half-dragon's eager words, the voice changes subtly yet again, perhaps reflecting amusement.

"There are many homes in Cileum that would accommodate a pair of strangers, most of which are not exposed to prying eyes at all hours. I would recommend any of those. As for your second question, I trust that reporting your progress to my security officer will be sufficient. Speaking of which, your initial meeting will take place in two days time at high noon in the gate-side entrance to the eastern trade house. He will approach you, though by all means stay disguised. He answers to the name Furvus, though that is obviously not his real name."

"Now, if there is nothing else, by all means be on your way. For the sake of sating my curiosity, however; where will you start?"

[Battlemage]

The half-dragon activates the medallion as they were taught, and takes on the appearance of one of the guards present. The last thing visible on his scaled face before it changes is a sarcastic smile, showing off his fangs.

"I have not the slightest idea yet."

[Anachronity]

After pausing for an awkwardly long time in thought, Victor simply shrugs his shoulders. "I guess the best place to start would be the scene of the crime. We'll begin with the more recent mortality and head to Aelius's abode and private study." Victor says, looking to Lucius for agreement.

Victor takes the goblinoid medallion and distracts himself with examining it, but does not activate it.

[Battlemage]

The guardsman-formerly-known-as-Lucius mirrors Victor's shrug. "Sounds as good to me as anything else. Are we done here then?" He half-turns toward the door.