A City of Struggle IC

[AlanBruce]

The Grinding Wheels of Oppression



The City of Halmathan. The City of Power. Said to have been the throne to the legendary Airdan line, whose begginings can be traced back over a millennia, to the famous Warrior Queen, Maira.

A City that has, for centuries, welcomed virtually every race on Oerth. A melting pot of culture and faith and trade.

An ideal place to live.

An ideal place to prosper...

Then, the King was gone.

A holy crusade.

A quest for power.

A mid life crisis.

Whatever reason King Marcus Airdan must have had, left the city in disarray. The nobles clamored to change the monarchical constitution.

The merchants, wealthy on their own, wanted to capitalize on this and even threatened to shut down commerce if their own people were not given power.

The churches, which are not few in number, rallied against the Nobles and the Merchants.

The Olidammarans were quick to make secret affiliations and loyalties with both sides.

The Heironites stood strong and proud in front of the Royal Palace.

The words of Sir Randolph still remembered today.

And so, you would dare soil the House of your King? Let the streets be soiled with dissident blood first! He is coming back!

The pelorites, lead by Highfather Jace stood as mediators amidst the chaos. Even with his feathery wings and golden halo, the half celestial was tempted more than once to smite the loud mouthed nobles and merchants alike as it became a procession of the rich and ambitious at the Gates of the Dragon throne.

Archmage Bartholomeus Crowell, and seven of his most powerful mentors in the way of the arcane were present as well, if only to watch, for they knew that between all eight, the city could've been reduced to nothing.

Fair Lady Silvarel is said to have left Glenndale Park with only a single person- a giant.

I implore you, lords! The City belongs to all of us! Can we not reach a more peaceful solution?

The Church of the Brawler, lead by Bhagazzin and his own army of Kordites, stood by Randolph's side upon the gate.

I dare you to take a step forward. Please! Give me a reason!!!

The Church of Trade did not get involved, watching warily from the Temple of Commerce, dedicated to fair Muoquol. Lady Katherine 'The Temperate' Ashcroft, although a noble and a church leader, weighed the scales from her well fortified House.

Regardless of the outcome, trade would continue.

The Church of The Walker, lead by the mysterious Ravenna… none were present for this royal upheaval. The Wanderer, as she is known, was, as is customary for priests of Fharlaghn, to be away. Who knows where.

And then, amidst the boiling point of chaos, order…

It would be the Church of the Cudgel, faithful to St. Cuthbert, who would step forth. However, it was not old man Calchis, esteemed Inquisitor and member of the Brotherhood of Church Leaders known as the Grand Eight.

This was a new face.

Grand Inquisitor Connor of the Cudgel, for that is the title he claims to have. Honored by St. Cuthbert himself, stepped forth and presented the Document of Discord.

I, Grand Inquisitor Connor of the Cudgel, hereby present lawfully signed papers by his majesty, King Marcus Airdan! The Chuch of Cuthbert is to oversee city matters until his safe return, appointing me with the powers of a Steward, lawfully granted! This street carnival is dismissed!

Silence.

Confusion.

Anger.

The following days were subject to much questions amongst the populace.

Who is Connor?

I have never seen him…

A friend to the King?

Might as well have given such powers to Sir Randolph or Father Jace, then…no?

I think if the Church of Law is in charge, that's a good thing. I mean… they represent the Law, right? Right?

It is not known how many mundane and magical examinations these documents were tested against, but in the end, Grand Inquisitor Connor was the legal authority over the City of Halmathan.

Fear not, my fellow Halmathans! I vow to bring his Majesty back as soon as possible! The Dragon throne shall not remain empty for long. Work with me! Together, we can unite the City! We can honor his absence by being True Halmathans!!!

The people cheered. Connor was a man who understood them. He was going to bring the beloved king Marcus back.

And then months went by…

First, came the tax increases. Prices skyrocketed, however, people still managed to get by, by a miracle and a margin.

Do not fear, Citizens! This temporary raise is to bolster The King's Campaign! We shall bring back King Airdan, and only you, tax payer, can make it happen!

Then, those monstrous machines chugging black smoke descended from the clouds, transmitting Connor's face and voice for all the city to see and hear.

Do not be alarmed, citizens! The Church of the Cudgel wishes only the best for each and everyone of you. The Eyes in the Sky will make sure that the city remains safe, the way the King would want it to be….

Maybe Airdan wanted the City safe, but the Eyes in the Sky prodded every nook and cranny of privacy in Halmathan.

Arrests were made by the dozens every day. Olidammarans, mostly. Many charged with petty theft. A mild crime, a severe punishment, as Roland's flock was sent to the ominous Castello Di Santa Noria- or St. Noria's, for short.

The foreboding castle, outside city limits and overlooking the sea, is said to have housed the worst vilains in Halmathan's history, but even during the King's reign, rarely was anyone sent there. Plans were even considered to demolish it.

Yet now, under Connor's rule, the cells at St. Noria's swelled with Olidammarans, thieves, and any other who would speak against the Grand Inquisitor's good intentions.

None who have entered have been seen outside.

As for Father Roland Dyluck, his church seized by Connor has him on the run. Where he is, is anybody's guess, but with a dwindling flock and the Cudgel looming over him, one can only hope the charismatic leader of the Laughing Rogue's church can evade Connor's gauntlet.

Sir Randolph Brunhausser, of the esteemed Brunhausser Line, the Roaring Bear of Halmathan, with an army of paladins that would shake the foundations of the very city, has been locked in his own temple.

Connor is said to have commented on the matter.

Your forces shall keep the city safe here… until the time is right.

And since, the proud Brunhausser has received the monicker of the Caged Bear, as he rots within his hallowed halls, dreams of glory now drowned in brandy.

Father Bahagazzin the Blunt, said to be the strongest dwarf in Halmathan actually had a public dispute with the Grand Inquisitor.

You shall adress me as Your Holiness, dwarf!

How about if I call you a pompous evil ass*** instead?

To date, the Kordite Temple has been reduced in volume by the City- which is now a default way to call the Cudgel- for progress, or so they say.

Highfather Jace, ever the voice of reason, has maintained his holy grounds virtually untouched. Connor will not strike a blow against a man titled the Exalted, who carries the blood of an ancient and powerful deva.

That isn't to say Jace has not had many confrontations in court with Connor. A shrewd diplomat, Highfather Jace has managed to sway the Inquisitor's more zealous approach to tighten his grip on the city.

Mother Katherine The Temperate immediately sided with Connor. The Cudgel stands for Power and Justice. Both equal monetary gain. From a commercial perspective, it would be foolish not to support the Cudgel.

As such, her cadre of artificers craft the best and finest weapons for the Grand Inquisitor's army.

Fair Lady Silvarel of the Resting Meadows, forever residing in the natural preserve called Glenndale Park has suffered immensely. The druid community has rallied many times at the park's gate against city officials sent by Connor to shut their home down. The giant who walked by her side the day chaos erupted at the Royal Gates is nowehere to be seen in public, since Connor has passed an edict.

Beasts of a wicked nature shall not taint our fair City! Monsters will not be tolerated past our walls. It is our duty as Halmathans to put them to the sword!

Then came the mage riots.

It would seem the Grand Inquisitor, Steward to the City of Power harbored a deep hatred for arcane users of all kinds.

Wielders of powers that mock and defy the gods. Corrupt magic that threatens our very way of life! Magic is not to be practiced publicly in any way. Those who would dare defy this edict shall face a swift trial and prosecution… for the safety of the City.

Words sprinkled with cynicism, since the Eyes in the Sky were built in Runestone Academy, the biggest and most reputable school for mages of all walks of life.

Many mages did not take this new edict kindly and a few planned a friendly demonstration at the Palace of Justice- the new name for the Cudgel's Temple, by resorting to harmless illusions and cantrips…

The shackles and broken bones came in fast and the black carriages took these young hopeful mages to St. Noria's…never to be seen again.

Today, Runestone has become a hospice for mages too afraid to practice their craft in the city. Of course, being an Academy, it isn't free- and definitely not cheap, but it's that or be caught by the City Guard and the Eyes in the Sky and woe be to those who would manifest even a single cantrip.

The Castello always has room for one more.

Captain Callewyn Godefroy, a royal of the finest families in Halmathan and, some say, bethrothed to King Airdan, has begrudgingly accepted Connor's rule.

As a graduate with the highest honors in Runestone Academy, Lady Godefroy is said to wield blade and spell like a flowing river. Her order of Royal Guards, a military force of their own- now unswervingly bow to Connor. Many are trained in the arts arcane, which once again raises the question on the Inquisitor's twisting words.

He was quick to quell such rumors.

Lawfully monitored magic by legally authorized members of the Cudgel can, by Royal decree, perform acts of…sorcery in order to maintain order in The City.

Then, came the Wall of Separation.

The Mercy, for decades, a charred testament to what could have been one of the most booming districts in the city- not to mention one of the biggest, was deemed by His Grace an affront to 'all that is lawful and clean'.

So, Connor had a massive wall erected to separate the poor folk of the Mercy from the City.

It would be Highfather Jace and Lady Silvarel who would stand in front of the masons, along with their flock and use their own divine influence in the city to stop such atrocious act.

The Grand Inquisitor is said to have fumed within his regal Palace of Justice, decked with expensive paintings and sculptures, an ode to his role as Savior of Halmathan, but in the end, he acquiesced and the wall remains, if unfinished.

This, of course, was a boon for the many brigands and unscrupulous self entitled "warlords" that took residence in the Mercy. With a wall high enough to cover their illegal transactions and the Eyes in the Sky barely patrolling that sky space, it has become a land ripe for the taking.

And that was then, a few months ago.

Currently, the City still suffers from Connor's oppressive regime, but add to the injury the infamous Vile Rain, which took place a little over a week ago.

A monsoon never before seen in Halmathan which brought forth scaled horrors from the deep abyss and began slaughtering innocent and wicked alike.

Just as the rain came, it went and, of course, someone had to take the blame.

Connor was quick to point fingers.

An act of terrorism at this magnitude can only be achieved by the savages in the Royal park. The City will not stand idly by and suffer their uncontrolled power any longer!

Perhaps the hushed murmurs of a serial killer aided the Inquisitor's decision. A boogey man from decades past- the mad transmuter, Dr. Cutter. Nobody had seen him, but some unofficial reprots state that his handiwork had been seen prowling Glenndale Park.

Fair Lady Silvarel was taken in chains to St. Noria's and, fearing a massive revolt by the druids, who clamored for Connor's head, it was said that a group of outsiders quelled what could've been a citywide catastrophe.

Later, it would be known the identity of two of these outsiders, portrayed and broadcast citywide for acts against Connor's many ridiculous laws.

Tonel Carth, a human priest.

Archaidous Mithmironel, an elven wizard.

The City paid for this terribly, with an inflation over the already swollen taxes, but shortly after, these were removed once both priest and elf broadcast a city wide apology, praising Connor's rule.

And things would've been somewhat fine, were it not for the Grand Explosion.

An arcane surge of titanic proportions that decimated the oldest buildings in the far side of the The Mercy. It is not known exactly where the exploision originated or who did it.

The public, thanks to the Grand Inquisitor, has a clear idea.

Once again, my complacent generosity is repaid with treason! This City is under attack. The vile mages at Runestone have ignored my edicts. Edicts established to make sure you, citizen, can live in peace and order. I am now stating Martial Law and will have every single arcane user questioned regarding this heinous act! We will not allow arcanists to run this city as they see fit!


It is true that the wheels of Justice turn, but not necesarilly by the hand of the Law.

If something isn't done soon, who knows what may befall Halmathan...

[AlanBruce]

@Pyotr: You wipe your brow and pull your sleeves back as Hans, your apprentice in printing- but admittedly, far more experienced in these jobs, prints out a new stack.

The Letters of A Free Man, edition… who knows.

You have spent so much money on the press alone and Hans, who isn't cheap, by any means.

The word needs to get out, but after that explosion, the Inquisition has been hunting down clandestine presses and if they hold anything deemed "subversive', it's off to St. Noria's.

You spent time, if not in the dreaded Castello, in one of the many smaller jail cells in the City. You can still remember your time there, a few days since Father would not pay bail.

One of the inmates, a woman by the name of Clover had been surprisingly relaxed when one of the Cuthbertine officials came to inspect you ad others in the cell.

What are they doing here? Load them to St. Noria's at once!

Captain Wulfur, captain of the City Guard, an imposing half orc, looked at the young woman who winked back at him.

We will, but I have another batch coming in. I'll send to the Castello in one solid group. I'll handle it.

The Cuthbertine official gave the giant half orc a disdainful look and shrugged.

Make sure the papers are sent to the palace of Justice, captain…

Yeap… thanks for stopping by.

To your surprise, Captain Wulfur opened the cell to you and Clover as the imposing half orc placed his hand on your shoulder.

Don't be so hasty next time. I'm out of get out of jail free cards, ok?

Clover just smiled at you, walked into an alley and she was gone.

But that was weeks ago.

Now, in the basement of your old house- one of the last heirlooms left by your father, Hans comes down with a letter.

"Letter for Pyotr."

The envelope does not carry any official emblem, but how did they know you lived here?

You open the letter and read it silently.


Pyotr Marat,

I have read your Letters of free Man and I want you to know that I encourage your passion and resolve. However, in these times, the written word will not be enough.

I, like you, want to make a difference in the city, but I believe there is another, more effective way. I hope you are interested in my offer- aftre all, I beleive I got you that Get Out of Jail free Card.

Meet me at Cassandra's after sundown- don't get any ideas, though.

Your cellmate,

Clover


@Silvia: Dancing has always come naturally for you. Trained by the finest blade dancers in the Sultanate, your talents have brought you not a small amount of recognition in the City of Power.

The flying carpet, a gift from your father, allowed you to see the entire city from above the clouds…


That was, of course, until Connor passed yet another ridiculous edict, broadcast through those horrid Eyes in the Sky.

By Order 389-C, flying, magical or otherwise is forbidden in the City of Halmathan. Flying is a sign of anarchy. Any vile mage might decide to take upon our fair skies and rain death upon you, loyal taxpayer and citizen. Failure to comply will be met with swift trial and prosecution. Have a blessed and lawful day….


Well, screw Connor. Renting an apartment with a high wall and patio, roofed to shield you from those black smoke chugging machines, you have, at least, your own personal flight space.

That isn't to say you haven't braved the city at night, especially when the clouds are thick. Thick enough to obscure the search lights from those floating contraptions.

Then there is the Royal theatre for Performing Arts, lead by Theatre Director Lord Patin Laughton, a noble who has devoted his entire life and wealth into the theatre.

The performaces were always grand, brilliant affairs. The roaring applause and the rain of flower bouquets once yiour blades and body stopped moving was reward in and of itself.

Yet now, the performances were written by Connor's protege, Dalpinian. Absurd plays with dance included that centered on the Grand Inquisitor's title as Hero of Halmathan.

Needless to say, Lord Laughton has been overflowing your mailbox with letters pleading for your return.

With the beautiful blue sky dotted by Connor's machines, you check your mail in the morning and catch a letter different from the others.

This one has Runestone's seal on it.

Curious, you open the letter and read it as you walk back inside.


Dear Silvia,

I hope you are doing well… better than us here. The last week has been excessively difficult on us and well, I hope I am not taking of your valuable time.

Please come meet me at Runestone. I would very much like to confer with you in Academy Grounds.

Yours Truly,

Fyrune Dalast

@Corwin: Another morning. Another coffee. Another stupid edict.

You go through your third espresso at La Caféothèque, one would call it a hole in the wall, but it is one of Halmathan's hidden treasures. The best coffee in the city, as well as their pastries.

Your date, however, is late… as usual.

I'll have an cappuccino, on the gentleman's tab. Thank you.

Victoria Glasz takes a seat opposite the round table and helps herself to a biscotti, not before smiling sardonically.

"Having a lawful and blessed day, I hope?"

Victoria knew how to pick her words. She had not questioned Connor directly, but she had made sure certain documents surfaced here and there. Many of questionable origin and veracity, but if it made the man's blood pressure rise, all the better.

"You are familiar with the Castaferni family? And don't tell me you aren't- I heard you poked around their olive oil business and almost got shot.

The Castafernis. You know of them. Rather well.

A merchant family that began as olive pickers, the family patriarch, Don Venustiano, amassed an empire in the olive oil business. turns out every tavern and household needs the stuff and only he grows it in his villa.

Of course, the Castaferni family's major income does not come from olive oil.

Money laundering, smuggling and… unfortunate disappearances have been lazily atrributed to them. Not a family one would want to have as an enemy.

And as it turns out, they aren't too fond of the Inquisitor, either, who has maintained a cautionary distance.

The waiter brings victoria her capuccino and your senior editor takes a sip.

"A personal matter, from what little they told me. They wouldn't go into detail, but I did mention your name. The old man wants to meet you for dinner at his villa- tonight…. interested?"

@Pharis: It's been a week since that horrendous explsion deep in the Mercy…


But that hasn't changed your lot in life.

Boss Sarjon is as ruthless as ever. You ability to forge documents in the Mercy is paper gold for the tiefling, who sits on a once grand mahogany desk- one of the few to survive the fire years ago in the main office at the orphanage, charred and derelict, but not lacking in defense.

The mobster has quite the group of cutthroats at his beck and call. be it for the money or intimidation, these guys serve sarjon loyally- espoecially when it comes collection day- which means they go from house to house squeezing the pockets of the good people of The Mercy.

Sarjon puffs on a cigar as he yells from his office to your desk.

"Best have those papers ready for tonight, Pharis! Got a big deal and I don't need you mucking it up…hehehhehe."

That's when Sedge comes in. Sedge is not affiliated with Sarjon's thugs, but she does carry a certain clout amongst the many theives in the Mercy… as long as she doesn't butt into the tiefling's money, of course.

Sedge pulls a chair across your desk and watches you forge the papers.

"Who's it now? People? Animals? Goods? Hey, there's someone who'd like to meet you but without, uhhh…"

Sedge peeks towards Sarjon's office.

"…big, tall and fiendish. She's a character, alright. If you're interested, meet at the park after sundown. Gotta go. Take it easy, ok?"


@Olly: The Bitter Coffee is the perfect place to work.

Sure, you spend a lot of time in the Royal Park. You were there when the city guard apprehended Silvarel, but raher than jump in and tear Dalpinian's throat, you chose to err on the side of caution.

Now, Silvarel is free, which should be good, however… Connor releasing her? After his utter disdain for druids, arcanists and, well…everyone?

The studio in the basement is perfect, with a small window so as to not suffocate from the oil paint.

the canvas this time is big- almost the entire wall… but what to paint? the explosion? Another Connor piece?

You light a cig and chuckle to yourself. Just the other day you spied a group of soldiers trying to wash your latest piece off the wall, to no avail.

Hell, you even made it to the Eyes in the Sky, relayed by one of Connor's spokespersons on the big hideous balloons.

…and in other news, we have a public dissenter smearing the walls of this fair city with what experts on the matter refer to as 'grafitti'. It goes without saying that His Holiness frowns upon such art and would like to kindly remind everyone that public defacing of City Poprerty is punishable by Law. have a Blessed and Lawful day.

That's when a knock is heard on the door. Probably dad.

Dad looks after you- as much as he can keep his eyes on you, that is. But one thing is for certain. every day, at noon, there's a basket with a sandwich, a bottle of water and chips.

You're too skinny, Olly. You need to eat! And that paint! It's going to rot your brain in this basement.

So naturally, you let him in.

But it isn't Michael bollard.

This is a 'suit'- a guy from the other side of the wall. well groomed and with his black hair slicked back, wearing a long coat and a ruffled shirt, along with a cane.

"Miss Bellard? I hope I am not intruding on your..studio. yes, ahem. My name is Rowan Clarke. I represent a gallery in the City and would like to make you a proposal."

[Togo]

Pharis leans on a pile of falsified beaurocracy, and watches Sedge sashay out. A view of her he never seemed to get tired of. It brought back memories of childhood ventures, watching her wriggle through narrow windows, and carefully counting the minutes until she emerged again. Now they were grown, it seemed a more distracting sight, somehow. At the time he'd mainly been proud at how he never lost count.

His gaze drops out of idle fancy and back down to the papers on the desk. Sarjon was certainly keen on how he never lost count. He picked up the next sheet, a leaf of rough hempen material favoured by river traders from the south, and bent to forging a trade licence. He took care to mispell Venustiano's name. River traders never did the city names right, and making it too accurate would draw suspicion.

Meeting Sedge at the park was starting to appeal. He badly needed to get out, shake out the kinks, pursuade himself that life wasn't all grimy tieflings in grimy basement rooms. And a midnight rendezvous with Sedge was appealing for all the wrong reasons. Reasons she wouldn't appreciate, he told himself firmly.

But the mystery prickled at his curiosity. Why would anyone want to meet him? Probably just another job, good for a silver or two here and time legitimitely not in Sarjon's company, but he allows himself to hope for more. Of course, more would mean that someone knew him as something other than Sarjon's pet clerk, which would mean he hadn't covered his tracks as thoroughly as he should. He had to go to the rendezvous, he decides, with an alarming amount of satisfaction. He couldn't afford not to know.

He recognises this for the rationalisation it was, but it pleases him anyway to have reached a decision. He returns to his work, bored, restless and not a little sick at heart, but he doesn't let that stop him from doing a thorough job.

He'd always been good at that.

[Thokk_Smash]

Looking over his personal notes, Corwin feels the beginnings of a headache coming on. The copious amounts of caffeine from the espressos aren't helping on that front, but it does help to keep him awake and sharp, so it all works out. La Caféothèque is heaven sent, as far as he's concerned, and a spot of light in a rapidly dimming city.

That explosion in The Mercy...what could have caused it? That question has been in the back of his mind this past week, prodding him to ask around when the opportunity arose. His current notes contain the information he had managed to get from his contacts in The Mercy, and he took to looking them over while he waited for his date to arrive.

Who was taking her sweet time, it seems. Nothing surprising, of course, but he is a busy man; things to do, other people to see, and so he bites into his pastry with a bit more gusto than usual.

But when she finally arrives, he smiles at her with his usual warmth. I think I should start charging by the minute, if you're going to use my tab, he says with a grin and a wink. Despite her displeasure when he quit the Gazette, he thinks that they've reached a good place in their relationship. The fact that they both dislike Connor's rule also helps.

He listens as she speaks, sipping at his espresso. He closes his notebook and slips it into his vest pocket. Don Castaferni, eh? No shortage of enemies, him. So many reasons they might have for wanting to see me; what kind of freelancer would I be if I didn't at least see what he needs, right?

He takes another sip, savoring the taste. How are things with you, Victoria? Keeping yourself out of trouble, I hope. he says with an ironic twist to his voice; after all, who was he to talk about keeping out of trouble?

His notes on the Grand Explosion are me sorta fishing for info that I can use IC; I'm leaving it up to you to decide how much he would know through his contacts after a week of not too-intensive investigation.

Also, just reiterating that Corwin's not officially working for the Gazette; he quit after the Wall was erected, though I admit I just wrote that today so you couldn't have known exactly when he quit. He'd definitely do freelance investigations for the Gazette, though, which this inquiry may or may not count as.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia leafs through her mail disinterestedly. Just another pile of pleading calls and nonsense advertising. Then, right as she's about to throw another unopened lot into the fire, she spots the one from Runestone.

This ought to be interesting.

She reads over the letter thoughtfully, then sets it aside on her table. After a second thought, she throws in in the fire as well. She gets up from her chair and stretches leisurely, going through her morning routine of exercises. Once she's well and awake, she sets out for a walk through the streets, not going any place in particular.

There was no question that she would meet with Fyrune, of course. But the letter hadn't specified a time, and there was no sense rushing to Runestone so early in the morning. Whatever Fyrune wanted to discuss would be important, and likely unpleasant. She wondered what it might have to do with the recent explosion in Mercy, or Connor's overreaction. She could half believe Connor orchestrated the event himself, just to consolidate his rotten power further.

She makes her way to gates of the academy at about half past noon, with the sun well into the sky. After being admitted inside, she waits calmly for Fyrune to arrive.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You watch with dreamy eyes as Sedge smiles back at you and makes her way out of your office as one of Sarjon's grunts, standing guard by the door tries to get a little too frisky, followed by a lightning quick knee to the groin.

As the grunt kneels with tears on his face, Sedge winks at you and bears a pearly white smile.

"Don't be late…"

Sedge had always been like that- quick to act. A diplomat throiugh and through. Although diplomacy in The Mercy was not usually an elaborate affair held in some court with wigged mediators.

It usually came to who had the biggest stick… or the sharpes knife.

The grunt gets up and massages his wound as he looks down the stairs as Sedge's footspes almost but disappear.

"She likes me…"

The smell of sulphur and tobacco invades your senses as Boss Sarjon steps out of his office, what may have been where some high priest of Pelor once recieved and documented the many abandoned children in Hope's caress and looks at your paperwork.

Puffing a gout of smoke in your general direction and cigar clenched between his teeth, the tiefling shuts one eye and nods.

"Not bad. Not bad. You make sure these papers are sent to Captain Callais of the City Guard, in the 87th Precinct, by the Marina. Make sure it's at nightfall. Tell him the Squall sent you.

Captain Callais… of the city guard. It is true that mob activity was rampant in the Mercy. With Connor's heavy taxation, corruption had seeped from the wall into the city proper. Understandable- the higher the taxes raised by Connor, the more people would be tempted to make an extra cash on the side.

Police included.

But now how to juggle both errands? On one side, there's Sarjon's demand for the fraud documentation- and in the pier no less. That's far away from the Park.

And then there's Sedge… she most likely had good intentions in mind. Earkly on, she never approved of you working for this thug, but such is life in The Mercy- you either get some protection, or you duke it out on your own.

Sarjon coughs as he tries to speak with his cigar still in his mouth, spitting it on the ground and putting it off with his boot.

"That Sedge… she's got an edge on her, huh? Don't get ideas, forger boy. You work for me."

@Corwin: Victoria smiles to the server as her capuccino is placed on the table and then looks up as one of those horrid Eyes in the Sky chug black smoke several hudnred feet above.

"Good thing we're protected, right? Sorry about the delay. The Gazette has been… occupied, if you will. Connor's inquisitors stand like statues on every floor of the building. They even sent diviners from Runestone to make sure we weren't using special ink! Of course, I keep my own stash and that poor sod of an apprentice. I gave him the stare down and he quietly stepped back…"

Victoria takes a sip from her coffee and savors the taste.

"Been working on some leads. A few, actually. There's that 'Vile Rain' that fell on the city and the monsters that were washed with it. Yes, Connor blamed Silvarel and then… she's back on the streets, all hunky dory. I know the druids had nothing to do with that. They simply wouldn't… at least I'm hoping for that. But I want to know why this rain happened in the first place. What were those things? I also want to get an exclusive with those two…"

Victoria takes out a small pocket book and runs through her notes.

"A Tonel Carth and Archaidous Mithmironel. The ones shown in the big eyes up there? These guys are not Halmathans. I checked. Whatever they did to get their faces on screen and issue such a clearly constructed apology has piqued my interest. You could tell they were struggling to even utter the words. Of course, I have, as senior editor of the Gazette, attempted to gain access to someone in the Cuthbertine Temple that could provide some testimony. Guess how many have volunteered…"

Victoria takes another sip from her coffeee as a squad of soldiers march down the streets, bearing the Cudgel badge as Victoria Glasz mocks a military salute and one of them nods, clearly missing the point.

"Then there's that explosion. Mages? Freak accident? Hell, it could be that Cutter fellow from years past. And what of the King's Campaign? I see a bunch of soldiers here, but none marching towards the Badlands… ughhh. I just need proof!"

Victoria finished her coffee and looks at you as she lowers her voice.

"Yet all that pales in comparison to the Big Scoop. Oh yes, Corwin, something's cooking. And my contacts have mentioned St. Noria. I haven't even tried going near that place, but my source said it's huge. In fact, I know of this because… well, because someone actually got out! Imagine that! Someone escaped the Castello! They say this person is in the Mercy, but they would say no more. At any rate…"

Victoria places a pair of silvers on the table.

"I have to get back to the Gazette. Deal with the Holy Editors of Cuthbert. Don't make me look bad with the Castafernis- I wouldn't want to end in the Farrashi River- twenty feet below."

Victoria winks at you and pats you on the shoulder as she leaves.

"Been good seeing you again."

@Silvia: The chimney crackles as you toss the many letters from Sir Laughton into the fire.

You are a star. The Gazette once called you "Halmthan's Eastern Star" after your perfomrance for the dance version of Othello…

But that was months ago. Now, Connor and his scrawny necked protege, Dalpinian run the Theatre. Who knows how the grand Theatre, where you have performed hundreds of times is looking now.

Maybe that's why Laughton keeps sending you letters to return.

Yet that letter from Fyrune…

It was four years ago when you came to Halmathan and decided to check out the sights. Runestone being one of them. A hub for bards, wizards, sorcerers, and who knows what other masters of the arcane.

Then there was Fyrune.

An aasimar by birth, but by her looks alone, one could easily mistake her for a fey. Not surprisingly, Fyrune Dalast is a Wildsoul. She briefly told you about her "training", which involved spending a long time in Glenndale park, amidst the druids and the sylvan residents…

When there were sylvan residents, at least.

The imposing gates to Runestone have a heavy garisson of Cuthbertine soldiers, and members of the Royal Guard.

Amongst them, leutenant Maxil Trentis.

You have seen this soldier, said to have trained in both the church and the Academy. one of Lady Godefroy's finest recruits. The no nonsense soldier was, like Fyrune, an aasimar.

Unlike Fyrune, he was not walled in Runestone, now serving the Grand Inquisitor in his newly appointed "Arcane Guard of Faith".

Lieutenant Trentis nods and looks at his men.

"Open the door! She's not a threat."

The two giant metal statues- a gryphon and a chimera, begin to show an arcane glow in their eyes as these open and you step forward to the vast green grounds of Runestone.

Normally, one would see mages practicing their craft. Explosions heard in the furthest reaches as the evokers practiced their many bombastic spells.

Yet now, the campus grounds were hushed.

The mages were around, silently converging under trees and sitting on benches.

The Cuthbertine Guard had taken over this place, however, the Tower of Magi- perhaps the biggest structure in all of Halmathan, still stood proud, unwavering against the Cudgel.

Silvia?

You turn around and watch Fyrune, with her light blue robe and hood, her eyes with a twinkle of heaven itself and her silver hair flowing down her shoulders as she walks up to you and gives you a warm embrace, which causes the Cuthbertine guards to reach for their blades.

Fyrune Dalast looks at them sternly.

"It isn't a spell I am casting, officers! Or has His Grace outlawed hugs?"

The guards mumble to themselves as Fyrune takes your hand and leads you inside the tower.

"Thank you for coming, Silvia. It wasn't easy to get the letter out and they have so many of their high priests making sure we don't cast any spell out of Runestone. Sorcerers… well. We are getting it even worse."

You ascend several steps and stop at Fyrune's personal chambers, which sport tree roots and a wooden door.

Fyrune taps her door lightly and this one opens, erevaling her inner sanctum.

A small garden- or a forest, depending on your interpretation, Fyrune has allowed nature to bloom in her room, with a myriad of twisted roots, flowers, and bushes.

A round wooden table and a pair of flat tree trunks serve as chairs for both as the sorceress serves you a cup of tea.

"Silvia, you and I have known each other for a long time and I must say, you perform magic on stage, but now, it is magic off stage that I implore you to help me with…"

Fyrune addresses three portraits on the wall.


http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs40/f/2009/049/6/f/The_temptation_of_the_nereid_by_Giacobino.jpg


Clementia, Daughter of the Wave


http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20131018093029/harrypotterfanon/images/2/26/Fey_1.jpg


Eldin, Warrior of the Thorn

http://th06.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2013/325/b/4/dryad_by_sketcheth-d6v4uay.jpg

Maraphas, Sister of the Wood

"These three were my dear friends, Silvia. Mentors, if you will, along with one other, who now resides in obscurity. Yet, my dear friends disappeared fifteen years ago, along with the fey community in Glenndale Park…"

Fyrune sheds a single tear as she dries it with her sleeve.

"I had already gotten used to their departure- their portraits a reminder of friends gone…"

Then, the aasimar turns to look at you.

"That was until a week ago, with that explosion. It was a dream, I had. I believe I saw them, Silvia. Alive, calling out to me… but they weren't well. They seemed trapped. Trapped by a dark shadow who loomed over them. Then, water, cold water… and that is all I have. I consulted with our best diviner in Runestone and even she is unaware of where exactly they are, but she did point to a place- The Mercy."

[Tyrann]

A little puppet of woven cotton wobbled its way to the door and floated up, causing the sparrow in the windowsill to let out a chirp. It was almost breadcrumbs time.

The lock clicked and the bogun pulled open the slightly clamping door followed by the familiar draft of dusty stairs and.. cologne?

Olly didn't take her eyes off the canvas: she didn't have to, Sock has seen everything for her already.
This guy being here pissed her off. She'd have to deal with whoever told him where to find her later.
She didn't know who he was, but she knew the type. Thinking you can have everything if you just throw more money at it. The cane was a nice touch. Really tied the whole thing together.

As she listens to the man's introduction she has Sock fly back and sit on her shoulder. When he's finished she takes another deep pull on her cigarette, blowing a jet of smoke straight up and turning her head slightly to look at the man with one half-amused eye.

"Well, mister Clarke" she smirks as she pulls in the only char in the room and sits down, eyes trained on his. "Last time I checked that was still legal. Let's hear it."

She had never sold art to a gallery before and he probably knew that. If nothing else what he was about to say next would be entertaining.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Mister Clarke had not intended for a strange sock puppet…thing to get the door, so naturally, the well groomed gentleman with a cane stood by the door as Sock leapt by the old canvases and mimiced your sitting pose.

Clarke looks around in order to find a chair, but, being the only one in the studio, he attempts to "fit in", as he leans against the old wall, covered in paint and relaxes his cane.

A poor attempt, but can't blame him for trying.

"Well, Miss Bellard, I… ummm. I represent a Gallery in the City. A fine establishment. Very lawful, of course. And well, those in the art community do spread word about the many talented people in Halmathan… and The Mercy, of course. So… I was hoping that you could, perchance… join me? I… I have a carriage. Paid for already, naturally. All we'd have to do is go see the gallerist and he shall fill you in on the details. I must say, and this is with very little modesty- it is a chance in a lifetime."

Mister Clarke is sweating like a pig in a pit. Clearly the man has never been to The Mercy before, let alone been greeted by a Bogun, if he even knows what it is.

Then, in a last attempt to fit in, Mister Clarke withdraws an ornate ivory pipe.

"Do you… do you mind?"

[Tyrann]

"Not at all, go ahead. And don't worry about Sock. He's harmless. Aren't you?"

Sock nods affirmatively.

This guy was hysterical, but still she couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't more behind this. Going into the city proper wasn't exactly safe anymore after her recent stunts, especially not alone and even less so on foot. The gallery being "Very lawful" didn't do much to alleviate her concerns. And neither did the fact that he didn't seem that interested in her work himself. He hadn't even looked at the old stuff by the wall.
What if Dalpinian was behind this?
Then again, this guy looked harmless enough. Which was a problem. If someone like him could find her on his first trip into the mercy, she needed to know who had sent him. And then there was the issue that she kind of did want to go with him. She'd been on trips like this before. She always ended up saying no, but it was a unique chance to see works that would otherwise be impossible to see. No one was going to allow a broke druid from the park as a potential buyer in high-end galleries.

"Right. Well, I'm going to be honest with you Rowan. Normally I'd turn you down. I wasn't planning on selling any of my work. But maybe if you could tell me a bit more about this gallerist?
And where exactly is this gallery?"


[roll0]
If nothing looks suspicious she will tell Nana Rose where she's gone and then go with Mister Clarke. Sock goes in the handy haversack.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin takes in Victoria's words with hawkish intensity. At one point he jots down notes in yet another small notebook the more salient and interesting points that she has to say. Needless to say, he doesn't like the majority of what she says.

Silvarel, back on the streets already? Without even a special tax on the druidic society as "justice" for the Vile Rain? Either the druidess bowed and scraped at Connor's feet for clemency--a highly doubtful happening to say the very least--or else...something happened.

And Carth and Mithmironel...those two. The source of that sudden tax hike a week ago. Pissing the Grand Poobah off is all well and good, go for it; but leave the people out of it. But Connor had properly raked them over the coals, so it's all even in Corwin's book. But a talk to a Cuthbertine official might be something he could look into, and he jots a note into his book.

"King's Campaign", hah. Connor's not going to want to give up all the power he has so easily. Corwin wouldn't be surprised if the damned priest never sent out a single soldier to look for the rightful king, the hypocrite. But the explosion is near the top of his list as well, as his other notebook can prove.

But her last bit of information is worthy of the term "Big Scoop". Someone escaped that death trap? They should get a goddamn medal, if they're not dead.

He finishes jotting down his notes as she gets to her feet. Ah, yes, the life of a senior editor. Gotta make sure the Cudgel doesn't shut the Gazette down, eh? He places his hand over hers where she pats his shoulder, and gives her a wink in return. Don't you give an inch, he mouths, before letting her hand go.

He finishes his chocolate croissant slowly, mind churning and processing. He plinks down his own bill, with a generous tip and compliments to the chef, before heading back out into the streets. To the Park, then and then to Villa Castaferi.

He makes his way to the park, nodding and speaking with familiar people on the street. Once he gets into the park, he casts upon himself Nondetection, and with a gesture with a rod he also casts Glibness.

Once he does that, he leaves the park and flags down a carriage to take him to the city limits on his way to Villa Castaferi.

Nondetection for 12 hours, and Glibness for 4 hours. Magic Aura to last for 12 hours (learned via Advanced Learning Beguiler feature).

Edit: used to have "Mystic Aura" as having been cast, but Nondetection covers that as far as I can tell.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia's eyes narrow as she passes the guards at the gate, resisting the urge to spit at their feet. What right did they have to be here? As if the Academy needed their "guarding."

She embraces Fyrune warmly. Again, she feels her fists clench as her friend has to reprobate the soldiers. Silvia walks alongside her readily, eager to escape their eyes.

Settling into Fyrune's abode is a welcome opportunity to relax. She sips the tea gladly, taking in the elegant merging of nature and human utility. Neither one of them has a mind to dance around the point, however, and Fyrune soon comes out with exactly what she wanted to say.

Silvia turns a casual, then intensely interested eye to the paintings Fyrune points out.

"I'd love to help you in any way I can," she says after Fyrune finishes. "Is there anything else you can tell me? I'll go into the Mercy, but I don't relish the prospect of combing the place for your friends with so little to go on."

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Clarke is a hysterical man, alright. Not a liar. Can't even hold his own tongue as you get up and puff some smoke in his direction.

"Uhh… The Owzzer Gallery, Miss Bellard. In 1400 Batiste Street. Mister reginald Owzzer had a recent… 'break up' with his latest artist and, well, what do you know, he did ask me to seek out fine artists all over the city. He believes the people want to see a more, what was the term? Raw, yes. Raw vision of the city. I asked around the Mercy for a few minutes about good artists and some children spraying walls told me about you."

Clark turns around and you can see a large stripe of green and yellow paint across his expensive coat, which he has not noticed at all as he pockets the pipe.

"I can guarantee you, Miss bollard- Mister Owzzer is most generous and he has a very important client for which he wishes to comission an entire show. Like I said- a once in a life time opportunity."

Assuming you follow Mister Clarke…


You look into a corner of your studio and pat your bag as Sock runs towards you, makes a few acrobatic leaps and does a sommersault into your bag of holding.

Ouyside the Mercy, the dilapidated streets are filled with locals and merchants… for what little they can sell, as they flock towards Mister Clarke and shove fruits, mangy old coats and the all famous rat on a stick.

Fresh melons. Good for a noble lord like you!

A cat stole for your neck, sir…just a silver and three coppers!

Rat on a stick? A Mercy favorite!

Clarke is absolutely terrified as the vendors surround him and you light another smoke as a young wiry man with a mohawk bumps into him.

"Move out the way, suit!"

Mister Clarke looks at the man and raises an eyebrow.

"Well, how rude and no. Please…uhhh no melons, stole….and definitely not the rat… I just ate."

You look through the corner of your eye and spot the man that shoved Clarje.

Drakan, who leans against a building and winks at you as Ivo nods and gestures ever so slightly to one of his daggers, just in case.

You follow the man with the stained coat and reach the Mercy's Wall of Separation.

A group of guards can be seen washing your graffiti, to no avail as a large bucket of water tilts over by one of the clumsy guards.

Captain Wulfur said water'd wash it!

It's not the captain i'm worried about!

Rowan Clarke taps the wall with his cane and chuckles nervously.

"Quite…uhhh.. sturdy, no? Shall we hail the cab? Now, where in blazes is he… Coach! Coachman!!!"

It takes a few minutes as one of Halmathan's carriage services stops outside the Mercy wall and the driver, a lanky man in his forties, steps down and opens the door to both.

Mister Clarke gestures inside.

"After you, Miss Bollard."



@Corwin: You sip your coffee and jot down notes as Victoria explains the many leads.

Many of these sounded very dangerous.

Some good enough to get consipracy theorists raving mad.

Then there was the Carth and Mithmironel case. if these two had been broadcast citywide, they had to have had access to whatever devices Connor uses to manipulate the Eyes in the Sky…

But where to find them?

Lady Silvarel… released after just a few days. Not a Connor thing to do. There's an angle here, alright. The Grand Inquisitor has nothing but contempt for druids and her, so why get all chummy?

Connor's "King's Campaign", instituted for months to gather funds to rescue the King. With the tax raise he could already have twice the army in half the time of his tenure and have already launched a rescue mission. yet, it would seem the money was spent on far loftier projects…

You look up at the sky, where one of those black smoke chugging automatons floats idly by, no doubt recording everything.

Then there's Victoria';s Big Scoop. Someone made it out of St. Noria's. Who? How? What is so big to make every other lead pale in comparison? What is going afoot in that hell damned prison?

Victoria Glasz winks and smiles.

"Not even an inch, Corwin. The Gazette isn't going anywhere."

You watch your friend hail a carriage and finish your criossant and coffee, leaving a generous tip and hail a cab to Glenndale Park.

Amidst the tall trees, you cast a series of divinations on yourself. If the Castaferni family was going to attempt some magic on you, they'd fail, that's for sure.

Then, as the sun begins to go down over the City of Power, you hail another cab to the Castaferni Villa.

The ride is long, as the street lights illuminate the still busy streets and the coachman yawns a few times before you reach the outer city limits.

A great gate, with an emblem of an olive tree in gold stops your way as a couple of men with coats and arquebuses walk up to the coachman.

"The gentleman in the back. Not me."

One of the goons looks through the window and grimaces.

"Open the gate!"

Anopther set of guards open the gate with a big ket ring and push it aapart as the carriage rides for a a solid fifteen minutes along a dirt road marked by Olive Trees on each side, carefully tended and trimmed.

Then, the carriage stiops at the Castaferni Villa.

The house is an imposing structire three stories high with tall doric columns and wide open spaces.

The baclonies sport several more men with arquebuses and a fountain depicting a hippocampi spouting water breaks the silence as the smell of the sea waft through your nose and ruffles your hair as the door opens and Giordano Castaferni, one of Don Venustiano's sons, walks up to you, wearing a dark purple cloak with an golden brooch bearing his family symbol and a black leather armor.

The man spots black slicked hair and a trimmed goatee as he looks at two of his men.

"Frisk him."

The goons do as they;'re told, but no blades can be found.

"He's clean, Gio."

Giordano castaferni then smiles and shakes your hand.

"Mister Corwin! Good to have you at our humble house. Please! Come in. Dinner is almost ready!"

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You give the Cuthbertine guards the staredown.

Connor was steadily taking over the Academy and who knew if the mages would resist the urge to go out spell slinging or subdue to the Cudgel's oppressive wrath.

Once inside Fyrune's abode, you look at the paintings. Sylvan creatures, of that you are most certain. Nature themed.

Fyrune sips her tea and slumps on her tree bark chair.

"I don't think they are in The mercy per se, Silvia. I believe the Mercy is a means to reaching them. You see…"

Fyrune shuts here eyes and conjures an image of a machine you have never seen before, but one that you had heard in passing.


http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140126072531/nazizombiesplus/images/9/9e/Submarine-steampunk-wallpaper_(1).jpg

"This is the Dragon's Flight. A marvel of gnome engineering merged with magic. I do not know the specifics of how it works, but it was built long before The Mercy's fire. I know of it because I was one of the lucky ones to be aboard its maiden ride. If my friends were taken into the Mercy, they must've been transported there. I can say this with some degree of certainty since the Diviner could not find them anywhere in The Mercy, but the station is still there, abandoned."

Fyrune finishes her tea and puts it down.

"I know I am in no position to ask this of you, but they… all the fey that once lived in Glenndale Park… it's the only explanation as to how they went missing and that dream was too real to ignore. Please, silvia! I cannot leave these walls. I know it may not be easy finding them, but I would be in your eternal gratitude. Besides… I know of one who has a days start ahead of you. An elf that you can rely on, that I am most certain of- Archaidous Mithmironel, a wizard."

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin spends the carriage-ride through the city jotting notes, making diagrams in various notebooks. He always has at least four on him at a time, along with writing utensils to rival an amateur artist. Diagrams, charts connecting one person with another litters the pages as the carriage winds its way towards Villa Castaferni.

The grimace of the grunt that greets the carriage is met with a smirk and a jaunty wave. The rest of the Villa is observed with a raised brow and impressed whistle. The Castafernis certainly do well for themselves, no one could doubt that. And that his men are so well-armed--guns, really?--is enough to make his smirk die down a tad. Still, it returns in full force as the goons pat him down.

Do you truly think so low of me, Mister Giordano? he asks, returning the shake with a firm grip of his own. His own smile belies the severity of the question. It's an honor to be a guest in the famous Castaferni Villa. My compliments to the exterior designer; truly a magnificent work of art. And the view!

Corwin passes the time spent walking with similar chatter; praise for the house and family, mixed with chatter about the surface-level of the city's goings-ons. Giordano Castaferni is only a son; Don Venustiano is the real reason he's here. He recollects everything that he knows about the Don as they walk and talk.

Knowledge (Local) on Don Venustiano Castaferni: [roll0]

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia raises her eyes and smiles in amusement. "The same Archaidous Mithmironel who's been advertised all over the city lately? Who am I to refuse an opportunity like this, anyway," she says with a chuckle.

Her merriment isn't long lived, however. The gravity of the situation doesn't escape her either, or not entirely. Her laughter fades and she nods more gravely than usual. "It will be my pleasure to help you, Fyrune. That's what friends are for."

She sets her empty cup down on the table, stands up and stretches. "I don't suppose I should waste any time, should I?" she says dryly. "Do you know how I can find him?" Silvia talks for just a little longer, but she soon says her good-byes and heads out of the Runestone Academy.

Time to make her way to the Mercy.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You look at the impressive Villa and can't help but utter a whistle in awe.

This family has done good- too good.

But no wonder about that.

Don Vensutiano was an immigrant from Geoff, across the sea. He came to the City of Power at the young age of twelve. Having no family to rely on, young Venustiano took all odd jobs offered- a groccer's assistant, a mason worker, and, in his later years as a teen, as a thief.

It would be during this time that the young immigrant met Avalina Carei, a young noblewoman betrothed to a duke Harman Skylarios, by arranged marriage.

The lovestruck couple decided to elope and hide in the City, much to Patriarch Carei's chagrin, who began a manhunt for both, along with duke Skylarios.

The details are hazy at this point, but it is said that Venustiano, confronted bt Skylarios himself, fought the arrogant noble to death.

The Carei family pressed charges, of course, and Don Venustiano spent many years in St. Noria's prison. There, it is said he made many connections. Not only of the illegal kind, but also learned the craft of a businessman.

When he applied for parole, which was granted by the monarch at the time, Venustiano set about to create a legitimate business. Coming from a land rich in spices like Geoff, an older Vensutiano decided to open Castaferni Oil. It took all his savings to hire his first laborers- many which were acquaintances from prison.

It took years and hard labor, but eventually, Don Venustiano built an empire from the olive fruit, which became his family crest.

By then, the Carei family had lost much of their money in a multitude of debts and, not wanting to leave Avalina destitute, gave the couple their blessing to marriage.

Today, Don Venustiano is regarded as not only one of the wealthiest merchants in the City, but a solid supporter of the Olidammaran Church, who is said to have helped him immensely during his rise as a merchant.

However, this did not stop his connections with his former cellmates.

Don Venustiano Castaferni is said to have financed the construction of Little Geoff, a district in halmathan that is ran by his family- that is, his extended family, many which hold records at the precincts. The man, however, is not a ruthless kiler- some disapperances have been loosely connected to him, but given his well loved position in the city, and the fact that many that have disapperared were undesirables, the City Guard has taken a blind eye.

Now, Don vensutiano is seen less and less in public. His age and health waning. And so, his large family, sired with Avalina, has taken over the family business- legally and not.

Giordano shakes your hand firmly and places his arm around your shoulkder as he leads you isnide the villa, as the goons walk a few paces behind, muskets lowered.

The interior is of lavish decorum, depicting murals with pastoral scenes.

A statue to St. Mary of Santa Noria, patron of hopeles causes, has a shrine with a dozen votive candles on a corner. The statue looks at you with sad eyes as the chandeliers above provide dim illumination and several pieces of very fine art- amongst them paintings by the fiejst artists in Halmathan, as well as scultures, dot the marble floored hallway as you are lead to a large mahogany table with several people seated already.

Santino Castaferni, known for his tremendous temper.

Michele Castaferni, the silent type. It is said his knowledge of accountability keeps his brothers from squandering Don venustiano's hard earned fortune.

Luiggi Castaferni, the only one who is said to have pursued the arts arcane and actually served under Lady Godefroy for a time before retiring to work on the family business.

Then there's Rocco Castaferni. He pursued the path of the bards. the youngest son of the Castaferni family. Known to have children in at least five districts in the City. All well taken care of, naturally.

Then, at the head of the table, you see Don venustiano castaferni, patriarch of this powerful merchant family.

The man is hunched and shriveled, covered in a quilt and his hands shaking as his impossibly wrinkled face looks at you through stark blue eyes. His white hair slicked back.

A chair, besides yours, is empty.

The man is seated on a wheelchair.

"Thank you for coming, Mister Corwin. Please, take a seat. Rocco, get mother."

The guards stand a few feet away from each castaferni and yourself. Who knows how many dinners have ended badly, and they are certainly not taking any chances.

a few minutes later, a portly woman with grey hair and dressed in black looks at you and nods slightky before sitting behind her husband as a crew of servants fill the table with bread, large bowls of pasta and meatballs, mushroom soup, and copious bottles of wine.

As you are about to get ahold of one of the rolls, Giordano looks at you and raises an eyebrow as the entire family does a small prayer to Olidammara, causing Miss Castaferni to sob.

"Let us eat."

The Castaferni may be religious, but when it comes to eating, it's a free for all as the large bowls of pasta are passed around, along with the bread and the servers fill your glass several times.

Don venustiano, his hands shaking, has to be aided by his wife to eat as he wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks at you from across the table.

"So Mister Corwin, where do you stand regarding The Grand Inquisitor's views on the City?"

Santino gulps down his wine and slams the boblet on the table.

"I say we kill the fu****, pa. We have the means and…"

Santino is slapped by his mother as Don Venustiano gives him a stern look.

"Never voice the family's ideas in public. ever."

"Sorry, pa."

Venustiano looks back at you.

"You were saying?"

@Silvia: Fyrune smiles and holds your hands and looks at the three portraits.

"Halmathan's Royal Park boasted a large community of fey, a long time ago, Silvia. They were said to be the first dwellers in the land, before the City rose around them. When the druids moved in and formed a community, it was the fey who aided them and gave them further guidance in the ways of Nature.

Yet amongst all of them, Clementia, elfin, and Maraphas were the most skilled. some would say leaders amongst their kind. Then, Cutter's horrible killing spree began, and many fey disappeared… or worse. I was not there to see the monster apprehended, but if anyone would have been responsible for their abductions, it would be that mad transmuter."

On the subject of Archaidous, and you having heard and seen him, at least through the Eyes in the Sky, the aasimar smiles and nods.

"You have heard of him? Archaidous recently enrolled to the Academy! A prominent conjurer, he was tasked by Mistress Lidenbrook to find out what has transpired regarding that explosion… but it has been nearly a day and we have no response. It would be foolish to send you in blind. Hold on."

Fyrune shuts here eyes and goes deep in thought for a few seconds.

"This won't take long. Please be patient. I need to find him through a long distance and who knows if that explosion has altered magical sendings…"

[Tyrann]

Olly raises an eyebrow at the mention of Owzzer. She knew the man, and did not approve of his "buisness model". Still, it'd be nice to see what he had in his gallery.

When Clarke mentions how he found her she stares blankly at him.
"You asked around.. for a few minutes." Up until this point she had thought he had been specifically interested in her. What an ass, this guy.

"Mhm, I can see why they sent you."

Just as she was contemplating the many ways of turning this guy down (maybe she should turn into a tiger and nuzzle up against the guy while telling him no), he mentions the client and the commission for an entire show. She didn't care much for money. An entire show of her work shown to a large audience however..

"Well mister Clarke, you've piqued my interest. Lead on."

When she gets up the stairs she yells "Nana, I'm going with this gentleman to Owzzer's! Could you tell dad I'm gone?"

She follows Clarke down the street in comfortable silence, fighting back the occasional chuckle over the pretentious git's attempts at navigating the streets.

"I have to say Clarke, I'm a bit disappointed by your lack of interest in the rats. You did come in here to experience 'rawness', right?"

When Drakan bumps into Clarke - probably pickpocketing him - and Ivo gives her a nod, she smiles at her friends appreciatively. Even if this all seemed like a legitimate offer, it was good to know they were watching. She didn't know how far they'd follow, and she doubted anything would happen within the Mercy anyway. But still, it was reassuring.

At the Halmathan side of the wall she looks up at one of her better speedpaints as they wait for the cab. The piece was still prominently visible and the likely reason behind her anonymous appearance on the eyes. If only she could've seen Connor's face when he first saw it..

It was intended to be viewed by as many people as possible, so she had gone big. Maybe a bit too big - there's only so much you can do in one night. But she still liked the results.

It showed a vulture clearly representing Connor dragging up two portraits and judging over two valiantly casting heroes: Archadious Mithmironel and Tonel Carth.

Even though it was a speed piece, she had paid extra attention to making the two look heroic. The swirls of wind at their feet hadn't taken too long, but the layered colors in the flowing hair had taken up a lot of time, as had the sunlight from the back.

The rest of the background was simple but effective: all she could afford to do in one night.
The vulture side had fire and orange behind it, Archadious and Tonel's side more blue, greens and sunlight. The Connor vulture looked thoroughly evil.

She had to smile again at the text under the piece. She had never been much of a poet, but this one was catching if she did say so herself. "Heroic defiance is not a sin. Abolish the vulture that lives within."

She hadn't actually cared much for the travelers or their "heroics". This piece had been a matter of principle. It had been her protest against the precedent being set, and the people's willingness to go along with it.

But it was amusing that it was still there. It was good to have training in alchemy, sometimes.

When the cab arrived, she broke her eyes free and nodded at the driver as she got in. This would be interesting.

[Togo]

Pharis stirs. What he was about to do was risky, but he had to try. Unwilling, he pipes up. Excuse me Sarjon, .. sir. he says cautiously. But you want me to walk into a police station and ask for the captain? Holding these? That's a lot of attention on me, sir, which is what I've been trying to avoid. Couldn't I send them with someone a little less... vulnerable? Less of a risk sir, to send a messenger who obviously wouldn't know where the papers were produced. Less of a temptation for the good Captain, or any of his people, sir, less of a problem for him and you.

Pharis held his voice steady, trying to sound reasonable. Thinking of something Sarjon hadn't was an everyday occurance. Getting him to change a plan was not.

I'm not sure a bluff check is actually appropriate here, since he's not lying, but just in case... [roll0]

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: So it was Owzzer after all… that fat pompous bastard. You had seen him. You knew how much he cared for art- which in his view transalted only to coin.


And this guy, Clarke- he'd found you only after a few minutes of asking around. An idiot, yes, but not threatening, at all. All it'd take is for you to go tiger and he'd probably stain more than just the back of his expensive coat.

But a chance to showcase an entire show…. hmmm.

As both leave the studio, you spot Nana Rose, elderly and kind, serving herself a glass of beer.

"Olly, dear! Leaving? You be good now to the fine gentleman, ok? hehe"

Nana Rose winks at you as Mister Clarke, still oblivious to the large stain on the back of his coat, raises an eyebrow at the old woman and clears his throat as he opens the door to the Bitter Coffee and walks out with you.

Immediately, the locals flood the groomed aristocrat, with Drakan bumping into him and insulting Clark for being in the way.

You knew Drakan. He's quick. He's good at that. Who knows if Clarke had lost a watch, a pouch… or worse.

Ivo nods in a way only you could understand. They'd be ready to drag this guy down an alley and he'd be no longer seen in the City. And nobody would be the wiser, but so far, Mister Rowan Clarke had been a prime example of bumbling stupidity. Not a threat by any stretch of the word.

As you walk past The Wall of Separation, Clarke attempts to make a cheerful comment by praising the wall's sturdiness. The poor sod has nothing better to say. If he only had an idea what it really stood up for.

Or maybe he did, but circumstances had placed him in The Mercy..under yours now.

As for your latest piece, a success. The guards would never wash that out with water. There was absolutely no way. Who knows if Captain Wulfur would give them a sound hazing for their failure or if Connor himself would have to come down and kneel on the wall with a wet sponge and do it himself…

Then, the carriage arrives and you step in as the sun begins to set amidst the tall and magnificent buildings of Halmatrhan, filled with people inside and on the streets.

The Eyes in the Sky turn on their lights early as they chug black smoke and float ominosuly silently above you and Clarke smiles and sighs.

He's safe now. Where he belongs.

"You have ever considered, well… moving out of the Mercy, Miss Bellard?"

It takes almost an hour to arrive at Batiste Street, which has the street lights buzzing and alight by now as the elderly coachman opens the door for both and you stand in front of Owzzer's Gallery.

A two story building, with a large well trimmed front yard and a tall spiked gate surrounding it.

Owzzer's Gallery has odd towering scultures made of glass, steel, and stone dotting the front yard as Mister Clarke opens the gate fro you and knocks on the door.

Come in!

So this is Owzzer's Gallery…


The placeis gigantic inside. Fine polished wooden floors. Tall white walls, brilliantly crafted meral sculptures and more than a few paintings on the wall, many which catch your attention.


http://www.oceansbridge.com/paintings/artists/recently-added/july2008/big/Pastoral-Shepherd-and-Sheep-xx-Jusepe-de-Ribera.JPG

Halmathan Druid

By Arregi Di Formama


You may have seen this person at some time…maybe.


http://www.flogmebaby.com/ebay/p-n1.jpg

After a Long day at the Park (Portrait of Lady Anselma)


Unknown

Who knows who that woman is, but if the author did not reveal the name, it must be for a good reason.


https://img1.etsystatic.com/036/0/5474150/il_340x270.655627143_b5iw.jpg


Lady Veronica Ashford, by Steiner Lacore

Some aristocrat. the painting looks old, though.


http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/a-moment--original-abstract-art-tom-fedro--fidostudio.jpg

The City Always Watches, By Paul Frank

You can only wonder if Connor approves of this one.


http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zo5Bta_L-aA/Tm5WbUanr1I/AAAAAAAAC7Y/9eqsis9xiiw/s1600/marilyn_manson-the_new_slaves_of_big_500_cent_1-albino_hermaphrodite_opium_harvester.jpg


A Stillborn City, by Marx - O

You know this guy. From the Mercy. A progressive artist, but as rich as a beggar. How did he get his work here?

Then you notice a big X beside the title.

That's when your attention goes to the far end of the room, where Reginald Owzzer, a rotund man, decked in crimson coat tails, an overly large white greyish wig and decked in jewelry seems to bounce his way towards both as a young woman dressed in white priestly robes smiles at both of you and bows, holding a pamphlet in her hands.

Owzzer sweats profusely from just moving a few feet and pauses for a few seconds as he addresses Rowan.

"Clarke! Well done! Who is this dashing… young girl?"

Mister Clarke gestures to you and stands at attention, tapping his cane.

"She is Miss Bellard. I have it on good information that she is a very talented artist from The Mercy, Mister Owzzer."

Owzzer circles around you, taking notice of the droopy mohawk, the piercings, the still lit cigarette…


Not what I had in mind, but If Rowan claims her to be good...

"Miss Bellard! A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Reginald Owzzer, proprietor of Owzzer's Gallery. The finest Art establishment in all of Halmathan. And I believe I have an offer that will please you immensely. Care to join us for some tea?"

Mister Clarke taps the cane on the polished wooden floor and cl;ears his throat.

"My apologies, it is getting late. My services are concluded, Mister Owzzer. Have a fine evening. Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Bellard."

Clarke turns around and of course, the smudge of green and yellow paint has not disapperaed as Owzzer looks at it and raises an eyebrow, but before he has a chance to say anything, Mister Rowan Clarke has already left the gallery.

Owzzer takes your hand in hos own, gloved by fine velvet and leads you towards the counter, where the young lady in priestly robes smiles like a fool.

"So, dear- what experience have you had with big solo expositions?"

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: Boss Sarjon looks at you and then at his grunts by the door, one still hurting from Sedges surprise knee kick.

"Look at this guy, eh? Hahahahhahahahaa! No, forger boy, you are to meet Captain Callais of the 87th, but not at the precinct. He will be patrolling the pier. Alone. You are to go check dock number 56. That's where he'll be waiting, away from the rest of his guard. Then, you just deliver the package…"

The grunts laugh and snicker as Sarjon gets in closer to your face.

"You do this for me, forger boy, and you'll be aptly promoted… comprende?"

@Silvia: Fyrune opens her eyes after a few seconds and looks at you, no less concerned than before.

Deep underground. Location uncertain. Fighting creatures with invisibility but otherwise well. Help appreciated. Learned some important revelations, will describe further upon my return.

"That is what Archaidous had to say. Deep underground… if the explosion topok place where he is, then no wonder our Headmistress of Divination could not pinpoint his location. The one who sent archaidous to begin the investigation has not yet returned, which troubles me as well, but she is quite used to the dangers of the City. Silvia, do you have any means to reach the Dragon's Flight station? It's as good as start as any by this point."

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia nods. "Serious business, then.

Well, besides still not knowing exactly where it is, I don't have any problems walking there," she says.

"If you can tell me where in the Mercy to look for it, I'll head there. If not, well, I'll find it anyway." She smiles wryly. "I have my own ways of learning things of that nature... and either way, the sooner I start, the better."

Her mind is beginning to tingle with excitement, and although the tone of her voice doesn't change, she starts pacing the table steadily. Not impatience, not exactly - just energy.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: Fyrune nods gravely at your comment.

"Connor's forces will inevitably stamp out Runestone Acacdemy, Silvia. I have no doubt that many mages here will stand against The Inquisition, but the aftermath, whether favorable for us or them, will most likley result in a civil war, the likes this City has not yet seen. Even if we were to rout Connor's forces here, the Inquisitor's many armies, loyal to him, would eventually crush us, not to mention the Church of Muoquol, who is no doubt crafting more and more weapons for his army."

Fyrune goes silent and then looks at you as she stands up and opens the door.

"Archaidous's knowledge should quell Connor's zealous wrath. I know he is a wizard, and the Inquisitor has nothing but contempt for him, but after an investigation like that, and should he return, the Heads of Church will most likely be present and they will make sure Connor does not get away with this blind zealotry. Regarding the Mercy, I know Hope's Caress Station is deeper into the district. There is a man. an old man, Johann, by name. I remember he was the first conductor for the Dragon's Flight. If he's still alive, he is in the Mercy. I am certain Archaidous must've met with him, for he knows how to move around…."

Dalast places her hand on your shoulder.

"Find Johann…and you will find a way to Archaidous. Time is not on our side, Silvia."

You leave campus gournds as a few lights can be seen from the shorter residenctial buildings in the Acacdemy.

This does not stop the Inquisition from patrolling the area, ever vigilant.

That's when a bright spot light shines on you, causing you to avert your eyes.

One of those Eyes in the Sky, lower in altitude, monitoring the campus for any 'unlawful activity', no doubt.

The light shines on you for a few seconds and then moves elsewhere as the gates open for you. and you look at the sky.

It's dark already, but the city is lit well enough thanks to the lamp posts.

A lot more Eyes in the Sky patrol the city above, with those search lights. Martial Rule has been instated, and who knows what will happen if you;re caught in the streets after hours…


But even if you were to reach The Mercy… can you do it alone? Fyrune mentioned Archaidous was a well versed conjurer. As far as you know, those are very talented wizards. and even he was having trouble deep underground.

Fighting creatures with invisibility but otherwise well. Help appreciated.

Inviisble foes are not exactly the best enemy to face. and although he seemed confident of his success, he still appreciated help.

But would one be enough?

[Thokk_Smash]

The walk through the house is as illuminative of the Castaferni status as the outside is. If the people of the Mercy had half of what it took to build this, a lot of hungry children wouldn't be so hungry. He gives the shrine of St Mary a respectful nod, keeping up the conversation until they reached the dining hall.

The sight of the shriveled old man in the wheelchair is an interesting counterpoint to the image of Vensutiano in his head. The stories he's heard would fill two novels and a short story. A self-made man, Don Vensutiano; Corwin can appreciate that. And a man with a reach that could feasibly encompass half of Halmathan, or more. Certainly, not a man to trifle with, and here Corwin is, invited into his home. What could he provide this man that he couldn't get from someone else?

Well, Corwin isn't obviously connected to the Don, a clear advantage if Vensutiano wants less-than-reputable things to be done. And it seems like not all of his family is suited to, erm, delicacy. Santino's outburst was met with a raised brow and hidden amusement at the man's expense. He would be interested in how Luigi Castaferni is dealing with the restrictions on arcanists; maybe he could inquire later.

The prayerful type of family, eh? His hand slinks back to rest on the tablecloth, fingers brushing off imaginary crumbs as the Castafernis pray. The matriarch's sob doesn't go unnoticed, and neither does the empty seat. The Castafernis definitely seems the type to commemorate a lost family member with an eternally empty seat at the table.

He does his best to keep up with the Castafernis. The food is definitely the best he's had in weeks, or more; and the wine, oof! Castaferni wine certainly lives up to its reputation.

Corwin is in the middle of a sip of wine when the Don addresses him. He uses Santino's outburst to swallow the mouthful and collect his thoughts. So the family's preference is to simply kill Connor, huh? That certainly would be a quick resolution, Corwin muses. But then, would Connor's secrets die with him? That would be such a shame.

My stance on Connor's views? he repeats the question, pretending to actually think about it. In the spirit of my current surroundings, I'll say my stance is as far away from his views as an olive tree's tallest branch is from its deepest root.

The man is a blight on the city. It's as simple as that. He's a parasite, feeding on the people, and for what? Certainly not for the King, as he claims.

It's refreshing to speak how he feels. They obviously have no love for the Grand Inquisitor, so it's not like they'd tattle on him for saying mean, hurtful things about him.

He looks around the table at the gathered family members, and then at Lady Castaferni, and says, If it's not too presumptuous of me, you all have my sincerest sympathies for your loss. He glances at the empty seat, and gives the Sign of Olidammara that they had given during their prayer.

Having hopefully garnered some brownie points with that, he returns his gaze squarely to the Castaferni Patriarch. Now, if I may ask a question, Don: what have I been invited to your abode to discuss? My friend mentioned it might be a personal matter.

Bluff to make them believe he was was more sympathetic towards them than he actually was: [roll0], assuming Glibness bonus applies.

[Tyrann]

"I have considered moving out, yes" Olly replies to Clarke as she stares out the carriage window. "But this city is my home. It hasn't gotten bad enough to leave yet." Not what he meant, sure. But an honest answer.

Truth was the eyes scared her. She didn't know how they worked, which meant any attempt at cheating them was little more than a bad gamble. She was bored out of her mind, but she wasn't sure if Sock counted as illegal. For just a bit of entertainment she wasn't going to risk it. So instead she resigns to watch traffic and looks with mixed feelings of envy and pride at the occasional bird defying Connor's idiotic rules in blissful ignorance.

When they finally arrive she trails behind a bit after exiting the carriage, taking her time to inspect the statues in the front yard.

Once inside she looks at the paintings with appreciation for their craftsmanship.
This may all be about the money, but these artists were good. She takes her time looking over each work. That's a big part of the reasons she's here, after all.

The irony of how things had changed since the Halmathan Druid had been painted was not lost on her, the shepherds of nature now trapped in a Cuthberthian pen.

At the Portrait of Lady Anselma she smiles. She wonders what the author had to hide. And it was good to know this gallery was willing to make such arrangements. For.. reasons.

At the portrait of Lady Veronica Ashford, she cringes a little. The craftsmanship was exquisite, but it was quite clear someone had cut off a large piece of the work.

She loved the Paul Frank piece. Both stylistically and for its message.

Marx - O's work seemed layered in a way most people wouldn't notice through the morbidity. She wondered what the flowers were, and what the gender ambiguity stood for. She'd have to ask him later, along with asking of how his work ended up in here.

She notices Owzzer soon enough but pretends not to. More time to watch the paintings. He could wait.

When Clarke introduces her and Owzzer starts circling she lets him, leaning on one hip and cocking her head a little as she keeps on examining Marx - O's painting. As he finishes she blows a waft of smoke in the corpulent curator's face and tells him

"The pleasure is mine, believe me. I could drink. What's the cross for?" nudging to the cross.

She smiles at the lady in an attempt at being nice. That must be either the commissioner or a representative. It was hard smiling though. The lady looked alright but Owzzer was already starting to get on her nerves.

"Solo expositions huh? Well I've had a few. It's always been my belief that art should be shared freely." At this, she looks at the lady in the priestly dress, seeing if there was a reaction before continuing "My work tends to attract a fair bit of attention, and I usually get about the feedback I aim for. Was there something you were looking for in particular Miss .. ?"


1d20+2

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: The Castaferni family definitely lived the good life. Although, if your notes are accurate on the man, it didn't begin that way.

This patriarch of the olive oil business actually spent time in St. Noria's… of course, by the time he was imprisoned, the Castello may not have been what it is today, but still, a wary eye ought to be kept when dealing with people not above killing, as Santino's outburst demonstrated.

As the food is passed around, you are questioned on your views regarding Connor.

Don Castaferni takes a sip from his wine and nods.

"A rotten root spoils the whole tree. Usually, the best way is to chop it down, but then comes the problem of the tree falling over other healthy ones…"

Once dinner is concluded, Don venustiano looks at all of his family.

"I wish to speak to Mister Knell. Rocco, Luiggi, you come with me."

The family members get up and kiss their father on the cheek as they nod to you and leave the dining room as Luiggi, far bigger and stronger than Rocco, wheels Don Venustiano into another hallway as Rocco walks beside you.

Of course, a pair of goons walk a few feet back, just in case.

Then, amidts the tall walls and fine draperies, Don Venustiano points to a portrait.


http://www.royal-painting.com/largeimg/Alvarez,%20Mabel/20068-Alvarez,%20Mabel.jpg

"You may have noticed, Mister Knell, that a chair was left empty during dinner. It is a chair that was occupied by my youngest, Anselma. Luiggi, I wish to go to the terrace."

The Castaferni son wheels his father to an ample terrace filled with ornate ceramic pots and flowers.

The view to the city is magnificent, with its many lights, and of course, the Eyes in the Sky in the distance.

The smell of the sea is strong here and you realize the terrace has been built jutting out a natural cliff.

"Mister Knell, I am familiar with your work at the Gazette. You work with a Miss Victoria Glasz. An avid reporter. I respect that. Willing to get her hands dirty, as, I presume, so would you. It has said that in my line of business people have disappeared. Whether that is true or not, is not the subject of discussion here. However, if those rumors were true, and in fact I was quite adept at doing that, what I would lack is to find missing people. Which is were you come into play, Mister Knell."

Don Venustiano takes in the sea breeze and sighs as he pats Luiggi's hand and the tall former Royal Guard turns to look at you.

"A few weeks ago, Rocco, our sister Anselma, and a few of her handmaidens took a stroll through Little Geoff. We always make sure that we are well protected. Even in a place built by our father, factions harbor enmity and so, we had our finest scouts patrol the roofs…"

Luiggi places his hand where his bladder ought to be.

"…that's when Rocco and I noticed our scouts dropping. Being killed. We tried to pinpoint the attackers, but realized it was one."

Rocco steps up and continues.

"I have read some tales regarding elves. The city has no shortage of them. One even acts as high priestess in the Park, but this elf was a grow. Dark skin, silver hair, black armor. A woman. She used a silver courtblade to finish our scouts, then, she descended using magic towards the street and engaged both Luiggi and I…."

Rocco grips his fist as he continues his tale.

"We had her outnumbered, two to one. Luiggi used some of his best training from the Royal Guard and managed to dent the drow, not before falling to her blade, which struck with a force I have never seen before. Luiggi was ran through the stomach and then I suffered a lethal wound, which dropped me…"

The Castaferni bard looks at the city yonder and then turns to look at you.

"Yet, as I lay bleeding on the ground, I was able to see what that elven assassin did to Anselma and her handmaidens… One after another, my sister's retainers dropped dead to the ground, cut by a blade that seemed to dance from this monster. yet, anselma was not cut- she was struck down with the drow's pommel, knockimng her unconscious. Before I was lost to darkness, I saw a hulking cloaked figure, broad shouldered, carrying my sister away."

Luiggi turns Don Venustiano to look at you as his expression goes stern.

"What I ask for, Mister Knell, is simple- find my daughter. Your reputation precedes you. Find her, bring her back alive to us… and make sure that elven witch suffers."

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: The ride towards Owzzer's gallery is not the best as Mister Clarke attempts to strike conversation.

Even a man such as he would be unnerved by those … things looming above everyone in the City.

Rowan Clarke smiles and nods.

"Well, the City is going through some changes, but… well, change is good, right? Besides, the King should be back soon and His Grace won't have to have more headaches. I can only imagine having to run an entire place like this on his own. I wouldn't be able to handle it, truthfully."

Once at Owzzer's Gallery, you ignore the pompous rotund character and fix your eyes on Marx - O's painting.

yes, the other pieces were good, but Marx -O was an extremist. For Owzzer to have one of his works hanging here…"

Owzzer clears his throat and addresses the big red X.

"Well, His Grace deemed the piece to be… subversive and a tad insulting. It will be removed soon. But by all means! And you want a drink? Coffeee? Tea? Maybe a glass of fresh water? I have sherry in the pantry if you wish. Join us here, Miss Bellard. I'd like you to meet…"

That's when the white robed priestess smiles and runs over to you and gives you a warm hug as she giggles and you feel your personal space threatened to the point of murder sprees.

"I'm Marketing Associate Judy! Or you can just call me Judy, it doesn't matter! We have such a big proyect and I asked Mister Owzzer to please find the best artist in the City. Allow me to show you…"

Judy giggles as she preads several large parchments on the table as Owzzer puffs his chest.

"The City, which his Holiness loves so much is going through tough times. Explosions by the mages. Rampant violence. Just mean people! Oh my gosh! I can't understand why they would have mean people in such a beautiful city, so…. I came up with an idea!"

Judy takes a step back from both and raises her hands as she crates a vague image of a square with her hands and widens her arms as much as possible.

"His Holiness' Warmth- a series of portraits of our beloved Grand Inquisitor. I made some sketches but, well, teehee! I'm not as talented as you are, Miss Bellard, but maybe these…"

Judy takes out a small notebook which shows very bad line drawings of a winhed man and a smudge that may or may not be the city at his feet. Another shows a badly drawn profile of Connor with a halo.

"Those are ideas, of course! But I firmly believe that His Holiness being represented in this most illustrious gallery will bring Hope back to the good people of Halmathan! What do you think? Don't you love it?"

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin follows the Castaferni trio in silence, enjoying the aftertaste of the delicious dinner. He looks at the painting of Anselma askance, noting her younger age and the fact that she is Don Venustiano's only daughter--both ample reason to be even more protective than normal.

The detective hops to sit on the ledge of the terrace when they arrive there. He takes in the deep, salty aroma as first Vensutiano, then his sons begin to speak.

An ambush by a drow? In the middle of Little Geoff in broad daylight? It's probably a testament to the extent of the Castaferni influence that he hasn't heard about it before.

Even before they had finished speaking, a notebook had already appeared in Corwin's hands. Rough notes and thoughts are written down as Don Venustiano caps off the debriefing.

With a nod, he looks at the Castaferni men. You've certainly come to the right man, he says with a crooked grin. I know the city like the back of my hand. Although I admit, a drow is like a freckle suddenly appearing on my knuckle...anyway.

I just need to ask a few routine questions: do you believe any of your competitors would be willing to contract this drow? Have your men searched any parts of the city, so I'll know where not to start looking?

Rocco, did her armor have any identifying marks that you could see? A drow in the city should stand right out, unless she's disguising herself. He considers what he knows of drow in the city, and whether there is a good place to start asking around. With the few weeks between them, the trail from Little Geoff had almost certainly run cold, so he would only start there if he had to.

Knowledge (Local) on drow in the city: [roll0]

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You sit on the terrace's ledge and your trusty notebook appears on your hand as you start taking notes.

Don Venustiano looks at Luiggi as he covers his frail body with his quilt.

"We have scoured the City. We even considered the Skylarios to be behind this, after what happened a long time ago, but they have sworn not to be involved, having their affairs in the mines now…."

Luiggi goes in thought.

"The drow was no ordinary warrior. She wore a cloak made of shadow and she did use a spell learned at The Academy for The Royal Guard- the Wraithstrike spell. The cloak made it hard to hit her since she would reappear several feet away and then strike with a horrendous charge. A partuclar use of abjurations, cast in quick succession were also noted."

Then you address Rocco.

"Other than an ebony dancer of death, no. Her silver hair trailed down to her ankles. She actually used those to dash past me and strike me in the back."

Venustiano goes silent as both his sons report the drow's attacks.

"Cutter."

Luiggi and Rocco turn to look at the old patriarch.

"Pa?"

Don Venustiano looks at you with a grim face.

"Years ago, before his apprehension by the authorities, that mad wizard from runestone, Aloyshus Cutter came to my villa many times, attempting to woo Anselma. Many times was he rejected, both verbally by her, and physically by my men. Then, the man went mad and I believe you know the rest. However, I have been told he is back in Halmathan. If that monster is still alive and just as mad, he would have targeted my daughter. Of his whereabouts, I cannot give you much information. The Cuthbertines, whom we reluctantly asked help from, claim that an 'investigation is underway', but they will not assist my family on their own twisted principles- I am, after all, an ex convict."

The old Don coughs as Luiggi begins wheeling him back inside and the Venustiano turns to looks at you as he coughs some more.

"He was said to reside in the mercy. Where though? Is anybody's guess. Rocco…"

Rocco Castaferni and a few goons walk towards you.

"A carriage awaits outside, Mister Knell."

[Tyrann]

Olly, still in shock after the hug, blinked at Judy when she started explaining what the idea was. Then she blinked again. And then a third time, stunned.

This was too weird. She was being asked, on the recommendation of a few street kids, to do a series of portaits of Connor, whom she had just vulturized but a few days ago. Neither of these two had even (knowingly) seen any of her work and here she was without any background check whatsoever.

What in the nine hells was going on?

Her mind started racing. If she told this to Drakan he would flip. Holy Ehlonna, if she could get Connor to pose- the possibilities.. This could get her inside rooms where Connor had thought himself alone and secure. What would the stones have to say there? And this could get materials and her "crew" inside Connor's castle. Or this could mean a perfect ambush window in an outside location.

It was too good to pass up.

And then there was the gallery opening. With a few small spells on Judy and Owzzer this could be epic.

Trying her best to sound sincere and gratefully abusing Judy's lack of knowledge of the artistic process she says

"Hmm, maybe depict his grace in the centre of a piece like this"

She does a quick scetch of Connor holding up a cudgel, He-Man style.

"With the other religious leaders in the background," drawing a few lines and stick figures to set a quick background, "admiring him. Perhaps a few enemies cowering at his might. Or if you wanted to go with the whole cowering theme, we could do one of Connor flying and pointing his cudgel at a kneeling infidel on the ground, pleading forgiveness, with a few celestials and a strong lightsource behind Connor."

She keeps this up for a while, trying to get Judy all excited and then adds.

"Of course, to make it really good I'd need the aid of a bard and a few inspirational spells from Runestone. And preferably some more crew for materials and lighting and what have you. And I would need his grace to pose. Also, I'm afraid that a project this big requires some preparation time. Not more than a week or two, but that small bit of time will make everything all the better. It's so much better to start out with well defined concepts, don't you agree mister Owzzer?"

Despite her best attempts she can't quite bring herself to sound sincere. She had never been a good liar. But perhaps they would brush it off as artistic oddity or miss it in their excitement. They had certainly seemed naive enough so far.


Bluff [roll0]
Profession (painter) for the scetches [roll1]

Edit: Ugh.. I tried.

[WhiteRobbit]

Pyotr reads the letter silently. Then he puts it in his pocket and carries on working. After a few seconds he takes out the letter again. He reads it again, and a mad grin spreads over his face. They had contacted him at last. Could it be true? Of course it could! This was his destiny calling.

The rest of the day is a distracting and too long day. Finally, the sun sinks below the roofs of the houses, and Pyotr hurries forth to Cassandra's, his mind abuzz with excited thoughts.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You stare at Judy, with her white priestly robes and wide stuoid grin and cannot believe what he gods have placed on your lap,

Owzzer comes back with a bottle of sherry and a glass as he looks at Judy's awful sketches.

He was a man known to pick the finest artists in the city. Always chise carefully. Granted, nobody had caught on you being the one responsible for the Vulture piece in The Wall, but Dalpinian…

He was hot on your tracks. If Connor was to pose, that lap dog would be there.

You shrug off the idea and begin sketching the Grand Inquisitor as one of your childhood Gazette comic heroes, He Man.

Judy applauds and giggles at your remarkably good sketch and the quickness.

Owzzer raises an eyebrow and sips from his own glass of sherry.

"Ooooh! Ohhh! YES! Like that super hero! Oh, Miss Bellard you have the talent. His Holiness, representing the strength of the City… so artistic. I love it… but we can't have other people cowering to him. His Holiness is a man loved and admired by everyone! No no no… they must bear happy faces. Everyone has to be happy. And warm. Hence the name for the show- 'His Holiness' Warmth', right, Mistre Owzzer?"

Owzzer rolls his eyes and downs the sherry in one gulp.

"Very warm, alright. Hey, Judy, isn't it getting a tad late? perhaps we can discuss this magnificent idea of yours at a later time?"

Owzzer seems quite different from when you met him a few minutes ago as Judy smiles broadly and packs her ridiculous ideas.

"Oh! Of course, Mister Owzzer. i will head back and inform dalpinian of this immediately and…"

Owzzer places his pudgy finger on the priestesses' lips.

"Allow me to surprise him with the news, Judy. That way, when it's a raving success, you can burst out and say it was all your great master mind idea, huh? Huh?"

Judy blushes and smiles half devilishly.

"Oh, Mister O… you are so brilliant. Very well. It's a…state secret…tee hee! It's been an honor making your acquaintance, Miss Bellard. Have a blesed and lawful day… both of you!"

Judy trots towards the door as Owzzer serves himself another glass of sherry and watches the door slam behind her.

Then, the pompous fat art gallerist looks at you, but with a different glean in his eyes, his voice sounding not so pompous this time.

"You got talent kid. that, I'll admit… but you wouldn't happen to have any whiskey in that bag of holding, would you? I hate sherry."

[Tyrann]

"You-" Olly stares at Owzzer in confusion. "What? No, I don't. Care to explain what's going on here, Owzzer?"

[Thokk_Smash]

Cutter, that madman? So the tales of his death may have been exaggerated, huh. So in addition to the drow huntress, Cutter's mad creations may stand between him and discovering Anselma's location. Suddenly, this little investigation seems much more dangerous to his health.

Jotting down his last note, he thanks Don Vensutiano thanks for the meal. He follows Rocco and the goons outside, chatting with the bard about his abilities, both arcane and theatrical.

Once inside the carriage, he directs the driver to first go to his apartment; then to an open temple that is closest to The Mercy, wait for him to come out, and finally to go to the closest entrance to the Mercy. If he hesitates at the thought of the Mercy, Corwin offers an extra gold if he can manage it.

Inside his apartment, he gathers his dagger and crossbow, as well as the wand that is his most potent weapon.

Once safely inside the temple, he recasts Glibness upon himself, and then begins the casting of a Sending. With the image of Silvia Tauber in his mind, he says, Miss Silvia, investigating The Mercy for missing person. Could use protection and second pair of eyes. Compensation available. Interested?

After receiving her reply, he returns to the carriage. Tipping the driver well for working so late, he enters the Mercy and starts a preliminary inquiry regarding the potential for Cutter or his inventions to be in the Mercy. He looks for his primary contacts in The Mercy, saying hello to familiar faces on the streets. He asks one woman about how her colicky baby is doing; another man, he asks how business is. His smile is more genuine now that he's around people he considers family, people he's lived and worked with for years.

Gather Information: [roll0]

[AlanBruce]

@Pyotr: You read the letter several times during the day, while working on the presses with renewed fervor.

Hans can't help notice as he prints a new stack of Letters of a Free Man.

"What has you so happy, Pyotr? We aren't making much money with the letters…"

Maybe the money was not the issue here. of course, coin would be necessary to arm the Revolution, but you had piqued interest. Interest from people that you just knew would be able to help.

That evening, you bid good bye to Hans as you close shop and make sure its safely locked, lest some Cuthbert sneak found a way in.

The streets are alreary lit up by the time you reach cassandra's. the Eyes in the Sky float ominously above, chugging black smoke into the starlit skies as those searchlights dose the rooftops in conical light.

Then, you stop in front of Cassandra's Bordello Di Divertimento.

A two story house, decorated with a live growing rose garden creepers that cover the stone walls. A beautiful ornate roof and a few balconies, covered by dark drapes can be observed above as a tall, very muscular man, wearing nothing but tan training pants and an old vest slouches outside the main door on a bench, a jug dripping ale on his left hand.

Then, in a flash, the man stands up and looks at your wiry frame.

This man could easily crush you- if not with his bare fists, by his stank breath alone.

Bishop? Why don't you let the gentleman in?

A woman's voice causes the tall and brawly bouncer to move aside as he belches and you;re allowed inside Cassandra's establishment.

Father never did approve of Cassandra's Bordello.

A place for good standing men to vent their licentious desires, Pyotr. We are nobility now. We cannot be associated with them. Do you understand?

However, father's words may have a hint of cynism or ignorance, for it is well known that King marcus Airdan was a regular at Cassandra's. Legendary escapades where the king would stay for days at a time, claiming this to be one of Halmathan's finest establishments.

In fact, when Connor assumed power, Cassandra's Bordello was one of the first places on his list to be seized.

A garrison of well armed Cuthbertines lead by Dalpinian, safely behind them, stood just a few feet away from the door, as Cassandra walked outside with her girls, completely unarmed.

By Order of His Grace, Connor of the Cudgel, you are to seize all licentious and illegal activities and leave this place at once!

Cassandra is said to have smiled at Connor's protege and waved a document of her own.

It is funny, Inquisitor Dalpinian, what a little piece of paper can do. Your master, safe in his Palace of Justice waves the Stewardship document like a royal rod. I actually have a paper signed by the King himself, waaay before His Grace's ascent to power. My establishment has immunity. You are to disband your men and, if his Grace is willing, he is welcome to come here and verify the document's veracity. I even promise a discount if he behaves...

It is not known how Connor reacted to this news, but to date, Cassandra's Bordello is untouched by the Cuthbertines. That isn't to say that other churches would stop regularly to do "health inspections". Cassandra never bothred to shut down the door to the clergy. It has always been her belief that her establishment is a temple of sorts. One that caters not to the soul, but to the body. Because, after all, in a city that toils under the wrath of a tyrant like Connor, do people not deserve the pleasures of succor?

The interior lobby beras pink wall paper, striped in two different tones, as ornate roccoco chandeliers hang above and ornate divans dot the main lobby, with magnififcent portraits of women in… provocative scenes.


http://big.assets.huffingtonpost.com/photoshop-history-520-1.gif

http://museumartpaintings.com/pic/Famous-Nude-Painting-The-Sirens-9422-77313.jpg

http://roymunday.com/website2/site2/titian.nude.2.jpg

Then, ethere's the proud owner of Cassandra's Bordello, Madame Cassandra Caelendil.

The brunette half elf wears an elegant dress with muted pink colors and expensive jewelry on her head, neck, and arms.

A pink fuzzy pig rests in her arms, with a diamond collar, which she sets down as the minute procine sniffs you and runs out the door.

"Bishop! It's time for Lucci's poo time! And who do we have here?"

Madame Cassandra circles around you and places her hand on your shoulder ans she chuckles.

"A young nobleman. Not a face I have seen here before… and I have seen many. Are you here for pleasure, or luck, mister…"

@Corwin: A lort more leads. None of them harmless.

If Cutter was involved in Anselma's abduction, this just got a lot more dangerous. You never met the man, but you did have a chance to see his handiwork- thankfully dead- during the days of his killing sprees.

As Rocco walks you outside the villa, where a new carriage awaits for you, the Castaferni bard opens the door for you and looks at you in the eye.

"A silver court blade. That's what the assassin used. We expect to see results soon, Mister Corwin Knell."

The door slams behind you and the ride back to the city has yet more questions swirling in your mind.

Drow were a very uncommon sight in Halmathan. Perhaps less than one percent. and those were usually in hiding. Much of it attributed to their reoputation as bloodthirsty elves, although many just wanted to be left alone.

Of course, Connor would have a field day if he could apprehend these dark elves… and place the blame on every other elf in the City. The man was said to be a bigot, after all.

You ask the coachman to stop at 1109 River Park. Not the most expensive of buildings, but a modest apartment and the rent wasn't too bad.

Aklso, it helped to make the landlord, a no nonsense dwarf by the name of Cragg, believe you had paid several months in advance.

If only they had one of those fancy lifts like in other buildings…


You rush up the seven flight of stairs and search your pockets for your key.

The apartment is just as you left it- a mess of papers and books, and notes , and maps.

But there's your crossbow, still hanging by the shelf, and your dagger, right under your pillow.

With the Eyes in the Sky partly hidden by the clouds, you ask the coachman to stop by the Kordite Temple, where the brawly priests allow you in.

The place is empty now. To think that a week ago, the temples were flooded with people seeking hospice after Connor raised the taxes even more. Now the taxes were still high, but the extra inflation gone had caused the many homless Halmathans to return to their rented rooms.

The Kordites do not mind as you cast a few spells and contact Silvia Tauber.

Silvia tauber, Halmathan's Eastern Dtar. You wrote a piece about her in the Gazette years ago, when writing was not overlooked by some man in a black full plate and a cudgel in hand looming over your shoulder.

Miss Tauber was not a Halamthan, but an immigrant, Like Venustiano, from lands even farther away. You have seen her on stage, dancing with her blades to the roar of applause…


But it has been out of stage where her talents have trully outperformed any play.

Silvia Tauber fights unlike any in Halmathan. Her grace and stance, coupled with her blades, are able to lay down opposition fast.

You happened to amke her acquaintance by chance, when she was mugged in some alley by four teen brigands.

Before you could muster a spell, Silvia had one of the brigand's hands chopped off and screaming and running for his life.

The others survived, but limped a bloody trail in whimpers and silence.

You then had many meetings with tauter, about where she came from. Her work in the City…and, until recently, your shared views on Connor's new regime.

Needless to say, if anyone can help, it's Silvia.

The Coachman is hesitant at first to drive all the way to the Mercy's entrance, but a shiny gold changes his perspective as you get off and head towards your old home.

The streets are alight with flaming barrels. No fancy lamposts here.

There's that painting with Carth and Mithmironel… and a vulturesque Connor. You saw a few guards the other day attempt to wash it. A hose was even used….

The painting still stands.

Then, you greet the many hopefuls in the Mercy, attempting to find any info. any leads…

There's the bald men, Corwin. Odd fellows.

The bald men? You have met many bald men in the city. Not enough to warrant the odd monicker, but a lead is a lead and as directed, you head to the Bitter Coffee, where regulars- Kyle, Bran, Nana Rose, and many other druids from the park have assembled to discuss perhaps another fruitless coup against Connor.

Then you check one of the tables.

Bald men, alright. Human… they look human.

One of them has a trimmed beard and sips from a large mug as strange sigils glow around his head, followed by the other bald men doing the same.

Know. Local


@Olly: You raise an eyebrow and look at Owzzer… if it is him."

The gallerist sighs.

"I would've hoped a swig of whiskey would've been around. It would seem this fool doesn't have the stomach for strong liquor. As to who am I? Well, Miss Bellard, you may call me Mister Lacore, unless you wish to dispense with the formalities and go by first names…"

Lacore/Owzzer attempts to leap over the counter, but the fat art conoisseurs isn't as nimble as he trips and falls flat on his face.

"I had forgotten how much that hurt… and Owzzer needs to seriously get on a regimen diet."

The man stands up and cracks his back as he takes out his hand and smiles.

"Steiner Lacore. A pleasure."

[Togo]

Pharis tries to think about the problem logically, rather than in terms of Sarjon and vats of boiling of oil. He needs to be in two places at once. Was that possible? Technically he feels it ought to be, but he wanted to make a good impression, and only half of him would surely be distracting, not to mention lethal. Could the time itself be moved? A brief image of giant mirrors and huge torches to fool people into thinking it was still daytime, wanders briefly across his mind, but he was moving on. Nightfall wasn't a very definite time though, was it? Could he make one appointment, then the other? Even a horse wouldn't be fast enough... Ideas stirred. Magical sigils started to decorate his page.

Eventually he sits back. He needs a few pounds of boiled sweets, a fishing rod, a thesis on ancient folklore, and to work out a method of invoking abstract concepts made flesh. He frowns. A lot for a single evening. Where to start?

A few minutes later, Pharis hits the streets of Mercy, looking for a confectioner.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin steps gingerly around the notes and books to reach his bed. Hey, he knows where his things are, and that's all that matters. A silver courtblade should probably be his next avenue of inquiry; as rare as drow are in Halmathan, a silver courtblade must be even rarer.

The barren temple gladdens him, both because he likes his privacy and because it means the people haven't been forced to seek refuge there. It isn't easy to ask for help, although sometimes it is the only way to survive.

The description of the drow assassin had brought Silvia to mind--a graceful, deadly combatant with a finessed weapon. Even beyond scaring away teen brigands, Corwin can tell that she is leagues beyond him in martial skill. That they share opinions of Connor's rule was the final straw in his decision to contact her.

The sight of the grand graffiti on the Mercy's wall still brings a smirk to his face. He had laughed so hard when he first saw it he had to stop and catch his breath. By the gods, when he finds out who painted that, he needs to congratulate them somehow. He hopes the painting stands for weeks; maybe Connor will be dethroned before it is removed, so it can stand as his legacy.

He walks into the Bitter Coffee, nodding to Nana Rose. He orders a drink as he leans on the bar, watching the bald men without seeming to watch them. The lead had been puzzling, at first; the current regime is enough to make any man lose his hair in frustration. But these men are indeed more memorable than if they were only bald. Those strange sigils on their heads intrigue Corwin, and he checks what he knows of them before making his approach.

Knowledge (Local): [roll0]
Knowledge (Arcana) Just in case: [roll1]

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You light the oil lantern next to your desk and rub your eyes.

The sun had settled and Sarjon wanted you to meet Captain callais in the pier…

But then there was Sedge's meeting.

How to balance both?

You decide to make time for both meetings and start heading out the old orphanage.

That's when one of Sarjon's grunts, a head taller than you, stands in your way and smiles as he puts a few silvers on your hand.

"The boss wants a tuna sandwich from Sahjan's, in the pier. Get one for yourself too…"

Sahjan's… one of many cart vendors that have managed to make a living in the pier. For all those ships and hungry sailors that dock at Rashema's, a quick bite after weeks of sailing beats the overinflated prices at any inn.

Sahjan has accumulated some fame in the pier and elsewhere as many people flock to his cart to get his many broiled delicacies. A sandwich and a plastic cup of coffee… just a couple of silvers.

You leave the building and already the people in The Mercy have begun to huddle around the flaming barrels. Collection Day is coming soon. Three by your count. These poor folk are going to be shaken down to the last copper… for 'protection'.

However, tuna is not what your palate asks for now.

Marie's, one of the oldest bakeries in The Mercy, survived the fire by a miracle.

Today, Marie is as wealthy as anyone in the Mercy, but she's an entrepreneur' she has made contacts beyond the wall to expand her business in pastries. Everyone likes pastries. You need something sweet in these bitter days.

The one story shoppe is about to close as Marie, an elderly halfling, squints her eyes and smiles.

"Evening, Pharis! I was about to lock up. You need anything?"

@Corwin: So a drow huntress with a silver court blade… this just made your investigation that much simpler. Not to say it would be easy.

If this drow had been able to butcher Castaferni scouts and a Royal Guard and a bard all on her own, this one would not be an easy catch.

But Rocco did say she was a dancer… and if anyone can do a dance of death in this city, that's Silvia Tauber.

Once past the Wall and well into the Mercy, you head for the Bitter Coffee and nod to Nana Rose, who winks and pours herself a beer.

Then, you take a seat and look around for these 'bald men'…

Sure enough, big burly bald men. Militia style.

And those things glowing around the bearded one…

That's when it hits you.

Illumians. said to be either an offshoot or a precursor to the human race. Illumians are human kin, if such a term has been coined already. Hoever, unlike you, Illumians are able to manifest Sigils which glow upon their heads. Sigils said to convey ancient words, which isn't surprising, since the Illumian race values words above anything else. And from these words- these gloing sigils- do they draw power unseen anywhere on Oerth.

However, in all your years, never has there been an illumian walk Halmathan.

None that you'd be aware of.

[Thokk_Smash]

Illumians? In Halmathan? That would be the first he's heard of them inside the city limits. Focused on words and learning, Corwin feels something approaching camaraderie towards the race. His gaze skates over the glowing sigils surrounding the bearded one's head, wondering exactly what it does. How does it resemble magic as he knows it, and how is it different? Would those sigils trip the magic-detection of the Eyes in the Sky? Connor probably would have a fit if he saw those glowing sigils, and the thought brings a grin to his face.

Well, it takes him all of one minute to decide to speak with the group. Mostly about the drow, but also to satiate his curiosity. He studies them one last time, checking to see how experienced and powerful they are. Taking his drink in one hand, he walks over to their table.

Mind if I sit? he asks in a friendly tone, dragging a chair over to the table. He sits down regardless of their answer. Never seen you guys before, so a friendly bit of advice: if the Eyes in the Sky see those glowing sigils, you might be in a bit of trouble. What with the ban on arcane magic, and all. He keeps his tone friendly and personable, sipping his drink now and then. He keeps an eye on the man's reaction.

Knowledge (Local) for the Urban Savvy feature to tell HD, BAB, etc: [roll0]

Knowledge (Local) for Urban Empathy in place of diplomacy: [roll1]

Sense Motive: [roll2]

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You pick up your drink and head for the table with the Ilumians.

With their glowing sigils, the illumians watch you pull in a chair and they look at each other as the bearded one, certainly a leader, looks at you with a raised eyebrow,

These guys are militia, alright. Most likely trained in the arts of martial warfare, given their strength, although they have no armor, but simple clothes on.

The beraded illumian listens to youyr advice and leans forward.

"We do not care about those hellish contraptions. We only care about our mission. Who are you? And why are you at our table?"

[Tyrann]

Olly stares at Owzzer in utter disbelief. Was he possessed? It certainly seemed that way - an illusion wouldn't have fallen flat on its face and then claim to have forgotten what that feels like. This meeting just kept on getting weirder and weirder.

"I think I could use a drink myself.. Steiner?" She shakes his hand, and then grabs her haversack, pulls it open and says "Hey Sock, do I still have that bottle of Eiric's homebrew in there?"

She had many questions. Who or what was this guy? How was he doing this? Had this whole series of oddities been arranged to get her here? Her specifically? And if so, why not just contact her in the Mercy?

But she feels she's missing too much to ask the questions that really matter. So instead of asking anything, she thinks it best to get some liquor in this guy and then see what he has to say.

When the bottle comes out of the haversack, Olly gives Sock a small fistbump "Thanks buddy" and sends him back into the bag before grabbing two glasses. "This stuff is made to get giants drunk, Steiner." She hands him the first full glass and pours herself a bottom. "If strong booze is your thing I'm sure you'll like this. Try not to taste it though. Tasting is bad. Cheers."

She only takes a small sip and looks at the sizeable mystery in front of her drink as she sits down and leans in.

"So..?"

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin takes another sip of his drink.

The name's Corwin; Corwin Knell. And I'm just interested in speaking with strangers. It's not everyday I see a pack of Illumians in Halmathan, Mr...?

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You shake Steiner's pudgy gloved hand as the man gets up.

There were many questions to be asked about what exxactly was happening here, but as Sock pops up and fetches you Elric's brew, Steiner's eyes widen and smiles as he winks at the construct.

"A bogun! It has been many lifetimes since I saw one. Granted, the one I saw was made of moss, bark, and twig wings, but I suppose a place like the City would produce a Bogun made from a sock… does it speak?"

Steiner serves a glassful of Elric's brew and downs it whole.

"Ahhh… yes. That hit the spot. Balion used to brew an herbal version, but that was a long time ago. So, you're a druid! This is quite serendipitous, if I say so myself. I had hoped someone that would oppose Connor would step in, hence using the trems "Raw" as an opening… but a druid! Well, this just keeps getting better and better…"

Steiner walks up to the painting pof Veronica Ashford and fixes it, since itw as s lightly tilted.

"So, I am certain you have questions. As have I. You go first."

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: The Illumian takes a swig from his drink and looks at his companions, who nod.

"Byeresk. Captain Byeresk, of The Shadowguard. We do not belong in this monster of a city. We need to return home, to our post. In the Plane of Shadow…."

Byeresk looks at you and raises an eyebrow.

"..you wouldn't know how to get there, would you?"

[Thokk_Smash]

You're a bit of a ways from home, Captain. I am able to cast a spell that grants rapid travel across the Material Plane by moving through the Plane of Shadow, but I lack the ability to truly travel between planes.

How did you come to be in Halmathan to begin with? How long have you been away from your post?

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Captain Byeresk sighs, along with his companuons and he takes another swig from his mug.

"Our sworn duty is to fend off against the Githyanki. During an incursion to our base in the Plane of Shadow, Bellira, one of our company's finest and versed in magic, attempted a spell to get us out, but instead… we wound up in the Black Castle…"

Byeresk looks at his fellow illumines and their sigils glow, but with lesser intensity.

"We weren't even questioned. We were sent to cells. Tortured. Put to work. Yet it would have been hopeless had it not been for one of my finest men- Githslayer Kyrich. Him and a woman, one who cast spells much like Bellira."

Byeresk puts the mug down.

"But not all of us were able to escape that horrid place. Bellira and two more were captured during the last precious seconds and then, we ended here. Kyrich sent out to find some help and he was gone for almost a week… until today. He is now in a room not far from here. A true hero."

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin nods along with the man's story with minor pangs of sympathy. Teleporting anywhere into Halmathan is grounds for severe overreaction by the current regime. Corwin is taking a sip of his beer when the good Captain reaches the best part of his story.

W-wait, what? he sputters, nearly choking on the alcohol. You were the prisoners that escaped St Noria's? And the one who broke you out is nearby? The pitch of his voice skips an octave for a second on that last sentence, but he seamlessly changes the affect of his expression and tone when he says, Your comrade is truly a hero. St. Noria's is a fortress, intimidating to even think of breaking one person out. But he didn't save just one of you; he saved all of you here! That three were recaptured is a tragic, but life is rarely fair.

If it isn't too presumptuous...may I speak with Mr Kyrich? I work with an editor at the Gazette; this is front page headline news. I can leave Mr Kyrich's name anonymous, and I swear I would not reveal your whereabouts. The jailbreak is buzzing about the rumor mill: hearing that one man broke into St. Noria's to free his comrades who had been held without proper trial is something the citizens deserve to hear. So it hadn't been just one man, but it sounded even more heroic, right? The search for the drow assassin can wait the half-hour he needs to speak with this Kyrich.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Captain Byeresk raises an eyebrow.

"Is that what the black castle is called? St…Noria's? They sent us to work below the castle after subjecting us to torture, but let's get something clear, Mister Corwin: I am not placing my company in danger because of your headlines. We Illumians know the power words carry, and if you were to use those words in public, my men still inside will most likely suffer."

Regardless speaking to Kyrich, captain Byeresk confers with his men at the table in silence, as their sigils glow around their bald heads.

"We have no problem with that. Githslayer Kyrich just came back from some mission with several spell casters- a blue skinned woman, a child with wings, and a dwarf. He hasn't spoken much about what happened during his absence, but you may speak to him… if he wishes to speak to you."

One of the Illumians gets up and beckons to follow him as you cross the street from the Bitter Coffee and enter an old charred building with cracked walls.

The sound of swinging chains can be heard in the dark as the illumian has his sigils cast more light.

"Githslayer Kyrich! Someone wishes to speak to you."

Captain Byeresk was a strong man, that much you could tell, but this illumina, Kyrich, he's a one man army.

Decked in mithril full plate and an ornate belt, the bald illumian waves a pair of wicked spiked chains as he practices what looks like a martial dance.

Kyrich turns to look at his comrade and does a military salute.

"Does the captain require my presence?"

"No, but this one does. A Corwin Knell, reporter."

The illumian leaves you and Kyrich alone as the tall illumian wraps the chains around his shoulders and walks up to you, easily a foot taller than you and with a massive frame.

"Corwin Knell, reporter. Githslayer Kyrich. What do you want?"

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin nods, but inside his mind he is doing a little jig of victory. Oh, man, Victoria is going to freak when she hears about this. An inside scoop with the man who broke into St Noria's is the story of the year! Torture? Forced labor beneath the castle? What in the layers of hell is Connor doing down there?

He brings himself back to the present when the Illumian soldier knocks on Githslayer Kyrich's door. The man is a damn mountain. Corwin has to look up to meet the man's eyes, but he does so with a nod and a smile.

A pleasure to meet you, Githslayer Kyrich. I understand that you and your comrades accidentally arrived here in Halmathan by teleportation, and that your comrades were taken prisoner. Would you be willing to speak to your experience in the prison, what your comrades went through, and what you did to break them out? His hands itch to take out his trusty notebook, but the good Captain's sentiment may be shared by Kyrich; he might not appreciate notes being taken. Oh, well, he's good at committing information to memory.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Kyrich invites you to take a seat- on a piece of concrete, sinnce the place is completely dilapidated.

He sits across you and looks at you intently in the eye.

"Corwin Knell, you need to know the following: Mu squad is aware of what happened while we were in that place. We have people trapped there still. I have not seen this… Connor, the people in your city seem to hate so much, but I do not want my squad mates put in jeopardy were you to leak this information and make it public. Do we have an understanding?"

Kyrich massages his temples and begins his tale.

"We arrived in a courtyard. Everything was hazy. Sildiers. A lot of them. I think I killed a few in self defense, but eventually they swarmed me. When I awoke, I was in chains, bereft of my possessions. That's when I met him…"

Kyrich looks at you with anger in his face.

"Warden Clavius Aemilius, some zealot who seems to run the prison. He ten sent in a… priestess or what not. Some sadistic witch by the name of Governess Payne. She said she's go and make sure Bellira was properly… interrogated."

Kyrich gets up and swings his chain around as he paces through the derelict apartment.

"I wanted out. A prayer to anyone who'd listen. It would seem they were, because moments later, I was freed and found myself under the company of a woman. A woman by the name of Clover. A spell caster…of sorts. She was able to disguise my appearance to look like a guard. She took on the likeness of a tall man with a black cape and a thick grey mustache and raspy voice, which apparently worked, because the guards bid all she said to them.

We reached the armory, not before finding a friend of her's, a half ogre, Jak. He was …. tortured. Tirtured by some man she referred to as a Rel Mordian. I wanted to go in there, but she warned me against it. Apparently, this man was even stronger than her, so with a heavy heart, we descended towards the Cargo area of that godsforsaken prison."

Kyrich pauses and let's the information sink in.

"That's when Clover began to feel bad. Something was hurting her. Changing her appearance. I do not know what it was. I was not affected, but she claimed that her magic was being… siphoned, that was the word.

When we reached Cargo, our cover was up. I had to protect Clover as guards came at both with blade, arrow, and alchemist fire. A captain Gruul was there as well. Not a human, that's for sure. We fought, yet despite my reach and strength, I was no match for him, so I carried Clover and jumped to the Cargo area. There, I saw it… a construction of some sort. Made of quartz… it looked like a foot and a leg, but at least five hundred feet tall.

My people were there, as were dozens of others, working on that thing. Clover was at the brink of death when I carried her and rallied my comrades to escaope through an open bulkhead towards the ocean.

The bastards… they opened fire on everyone, breaking Bellira's leg and causing me to leave her behind… It was only because of this belt, that I was able to hold the bulkhead open for a few seconds while my men escaped, at the expense of several arrows to the back.

Once on the ocean, Clover used some parchment and we ended here, where I collapsed. By the morning, she sat by my side and tended my wounds. She said I should look into two men that were being shown in the balloon- Carth and Mithmironel… and so I did."

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia squints as the light from the sky passes over her. Those damned machines, she thinks to herself, making her way back to her apartment.

She's scarcely made it to the door when she receives Corwin's message. A day full of surprises, it seems. She pauses for a moment to compose her reply.

Miss Silvia, investigating The Mercy for missing person. Could use protection and second pair of eyes. Compensation available. Interested?

Oddly enough, I have my own business there. I help you with yours, you with mine. I'll meet you at your establishment tomorrow morning.

With that concluded, she steps inside. She doubted that setting off for the Mercy in the middle of the night would help anything along. And besides that, the brush over from the Eye reminded her of just how watchful Connor's men were. She didn't want to arouse any suspicion by heading there immediately after her meeting with Fyrune.

As she runs through her evening routine of exercises, she thinks over just what to do. Corwin's help may prove useful to a point, but their goals in the Mercy were probably very different... she wasn't really sure how much of what Fyrune told her she should feel comfortable sharing with anyone else, even the investigator.

But on the other hand, what would she do on her own once she made it to Archaidous? She wasn't any wizard herself - it wasn't likely she'd be any use against a swarm of invisible creatures.

She can't think of any answers. Dissatisfied, she does her best to put it off until the next day. Sleep takes awhile to come.

The next morning, Silvia rises as usual, and heads out to meet with Corwin promptly. The sooner things start to happen, the sooner she'll know what to do, she reasons while she walks...

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You look up at the Eyes in the Sky and curse their very being.

Those things werer like rabbits. Every day, more descended from the sky, it would seem.

Who knows how much tax payer money had gone into making those contraptions.

You reach The Olympus Heights, in basilisk Street and look up at the penthouse.

Boarded up. That had been a mess, alright. The whole Bitterstein affair. You saw her in passing when you;d use the lift, but the artist rarely even gave you a smile.

That was until one day after one of your first performances.

You have a unique body, Miss Tauber… care to be immortalized?

You never even bothered to respond to her invitation. Something about her was just off.

Months later it would be revealed why, as you were awakened by one of those machines opening fire on Bitterstein's apartment.

The details were sketchy as everyone was asked to leave the building.

Talk of murder. Theft. A big brawl in her building.

Whatever the case may be, Bitterstein had been arrested and Dalpinian, Connor's protege, lauded a national hero.

The porter opens the door for you and the wry elf, dressed in a red monkey suit smiles as he pushes the button to your apartment- 13-C.

Being a dancer at The Royal Theatre had paid off. You may not have the penthouse- not that anyone would want to rent or buy it now- but the flat is spacious.

Spacious enough to have a wide terrace with a custom roof for you to practice your flight.

The rest of the apartment has a bunch of awards presented to you by the Threatre for dozens of flawless performances.

Of course, exercise is important and in that regard, you have spared no expense to turn the large living room into a training room.

Hoops dangling from the ceiling, practice mats- even a wooden dummy with Connor's face badly painted on it and with a spring attached at the base. The dummy sports several dozen cuts as you leap up into the air and begin stretching, not before shutting the curtains- wouldn't want those damned Eyes peeking in.

exercise is, as always, timed, as your piston and gear clock is set for exactly an hour and goes off as you land gracefully on the mat, drenched in sweat and then head for the shower.

As the cold water dowses your body, you shut your eyes and the thought swirl within.

Fyrune had been a good friend- still was. She could've gone to anyone for help, but she sent for you.

What had happened to those in the portrait? and what did she mean by all the fey in the Park?

Then there's Corwin, investigator. He sure knew how to sniff out a good story, but this may be one that has a bleak end.

Invisible creatures- wizards and sorcerers and magic types could deal with that.

You? You could probably as well, but not alone…

As you lay in your bed, you look up at the ceiling. It takes a while to get to sleep.

Corwin will have to wait. You;re not going to the Mercy tonight. Not after leaving Runestone.

[Togo]

Pharius gives a sigh.

A frosted claw, if you have any left? To brighten up a dark day? Oh, and those festival sweets - the hard ones that come in those twists of red paper? I'll take five pounds of those, in half-pound bags.

He gives a wan smile

Today I'm a delivery boy, it seems.

He pauses. Wondering if she'll demand an explanation for clearing out her entire stock. People didn't seem to question him, these days.

Marie... Am I part of the problem?

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: Marie listens to your request and notes your tine.

Taking out her keys, she unlocks the door to her shoppe.

"Come inside, Pharis."

Marie lights a few candles and puts on her white apron and stands behind the counter, with all the pastries that were left from the day, still fresh.

Then, she takes out a woven basket and a pair of tongs.

A frosted Claw? and the festival sweets? you;re in luck. The City has been raving over these. You want five pounds, very well…"

as marie picks up the sweets, she starts addressing you.

"I know life here is hard, Pharis. And it is no secret for those here who you work for, but remember- you can change that. Nobody owns anyone, Pharis. the whole fate thing, I, personally, find overrated. I lost my business, Pharis. i was broke. And I would've stayed broke had I not chosen to get up and rebuild. In every sense of the word."

Marie places the basket over the counter.

"I believe the same applies to you, Pharis. Don't forget that, no matter how hard times can be, we can always rise and be what we choose to be."

Marie takes off her apron and puts down the tongs as she walks with you outside.

"On the house… but don't tell anyone, ok? Take care, child."

[AlanBruce]

**************

Meanwhile, in Boss Sarjon's office….

The tiefling mob lord lights a cigar as he puts his feet on the desk, yelling out to one of his grunts.

"Is that scrawny forger boy gone?"

He is, boss!

……
…..

Uhh… boss?

"What?"

Someone here to see you, boss.

Sarjon takes his feet off the desk and gets up, a grimace on his red face.

"Did I not tell you that i was not to be disturbed unless…"

Sarjon stops dead in his tracks as cold sweat runs down his face.

A man with a trench coat and a wide brimmed hat stands a few paces in front of him, hands in his pocket.

"Am I interrupting anything, Sarjon?"

The tie fling mobster stutters and forces a nervous smile.

"Oh…oh no! No. I was just, uh… not expecting anyone, that's all. I swear!"

The man in the wide hat and coat walks past the tiefling and enters his office as one of sarjon's grunts reaches for his dagger.

The man in the hat doesn't even turn to look at him and addresses Sarjon.

"Tell your grunt to put that dagger back in its hilt, lest it end up in his throat. I don't have much time."

Sarjon glares at his grunt, who pockets the blade and the boss shuts the doors, so as to have a more private conversation.

The man in the hat takes a seat across from sarjon and hands him a stack of papers as the tiefling reads through them.

"Whoa… wait. These guys… Lord Hathway, are you sure? I mean. My business runs smoothly already. I got no complaints here."

"It's not up to debate, Sarjon. It took me a lot of work to get them out. And they are already in the City. I have appointed them to you, but they ultimately answer to me. Do you understand what that means, tiefling?"

Sarjon looks at the papers again and gulps.

'So… I can send them on missions and stuff. because I have one in particular that…"

The man in the hat raises his voice, causing Sarjon to eek in fear.

"I don't care what you send them to do, but I want them to be in The Mercy! I want them set loose. Kill, Burn, Pilage. Get creative. They have the means to be so on their own… and who knows- one of them might even get promoted…"

Sarjon clears his throat.

"I'll keep them here, sir! You can count on me."

The man in the hat gets up and tosses sarjon a jewel.

"This will allow you to keep in contact with one of them. Then he will relay the orders to the rest… and Sarjon?"

The tiefling gets up as the man goes for the door.

"Don't dissapoint me- I put you here, and I can remove you."

As soon as the man leaves, sarjon calls one of his grunts as he plays with the jewel.

"Well, I guess this just got easier already…"

[Tyrann]

Steiner's surprise at seeing the bogun was disarming. Sock's unique form was something she was rather proud of.

"Well he's still got vegetable matter for a brain." She plucks at Sock, who shakes a tiny fist in feigned offense. "But he's not actually made from a sock. Sleeve of woven cotton ribbons for a skin. The spell never specified what plants to use and I thought it was cute. And no he doesn't speak. But he doesn't have to." Smiling, she puts Sock on her lap and gently taps him on the head with a knuckle. "Telepathic link."

Balion? And the way he treated that protrait. Had he known that woman? He did say "many lifetimes ago" just now, didn't he?

And so this was just randomness after all. The guy was very clearly a smooth talker. That thing he had just done with Judy would leave most bards green with envy. But he also seemed to be stuck in here.

"All right. I'll bite," she takes another sip realizing that she'd actually already bitten at the bogun comment. This guy was good. "You're a ghost of sorts right? Back from the dead to overthrow our benevolent overlord, but stuck in here so having to work through agents?"

She didn't know a thing about ghosts, but it seemed as logical an explanation as any. She gets up and joins the urbane elephantine in inspecting the painting.

"Did she mean something to you before you were.. pudgey? And how did you get to be like this anyway? Is it permanent?"

Then, looking at him sideways, making sure to catch his eye, she asks the question she really wanted to ask.

"So you went through a lot of trouble to get someone from the mercy in here, and you're willing to risk a lot by revealing all of this to me. Whatever you're planning must be important to you. Why?"

[Thokk_Smash]

Silvia's response is met with consideration and a shrug. It's unlikely that he'll be able to find the assassin in one single night, and so he makes a mental note to be home tomorrow morning for their meeting.

Yeah, probably a good idea to not bring out the notebook. The other Illumian's warning he could brush off, but this absolute bear of a man is most definitely not someone that he wants to make an enemy of. Those chains could probably cut him down within a few seconds, he thinks with a shudder.

Still, he merely nods to motion for the man to begin his tale. And boy, what a tale it is--straight out of a novella, or a drama. He does his best to commit the most interesting details to his memory, or long enough to be able to write them down.

Warden Clavius, he knows of, but Governess Payne? A fitting name for what her occupation seems to be. He does his best to recollect whether he can remember anyone by that name in the city.

His mystery rescuer; a spellcaster, daring to journey into the depths of Connor's private prison. For what reason did she make such a well-timed break-in? To rescue this Jak? But no, she would have ensured that he was not being tortured when she made her attempt. But her presence seems like a gift from the gods for Kyrich and his comrades.

Wait wait, siphoning her magic? As in, Connor has enlisted the creation of a spell or item that can steal away one's magical energy? The things that madman could do with such power on a sufficient scale--he could force his restriction on magic onto the entire city, taking away the peoples' right to use magic. The thought alone sent a shiver of fear down Corwin's spine.

A foot and a leg, five hundred feet tall? What, is Connor having a statue to himself constructed to honor himself, like some midlife crisis self-gratification? ...Corwin would believe it.

His expression changes to sympathy when he comes to the end of his tale. Having to leave someone behind, to this man, had probably been like leaving a family member behind. Corwin could understand that.

And the end: Carth and Mithmironel! They just keep turning up, like a bad copper. Whatever's happening in the city, those two seem to be wading into it head-first.

I'm sorry for your hardships. What you and your comrades went through would never have happened a year ago. Are you sure you don't want to go public with this? If we get this to the right people, we might be able to take this all the way to Connor himself. We could get your people out. He does his best to hide the fact that he's dying to get this printed--the look on Connor's face would be priceless. Maybe the old badger would pop a blood vessel and stroke out.

After the extraordinarily large man's (probably predictable) response, Corwin continues, What happened after you met up with Carth and Mithmironel? Your Captain said you were in the presence of a blue-skinned woman, a winged child, and a dwarf when you returned to them. What happened to Carth and Mithmironel?

Knowledge (Local) on Governess Payne: [roll0]
Bluff to conceal true motive for wanting to print the story (including Glibness bonus, assuming it hasn't expired yet: [roll1]

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Steiner looks at Sock as he raises his fist and the possessed gallerist winks at him.

"No offense, Sock. It's just that the bogun I first met, crafted by my brother was given the power of speech. Although, in hindsight, maybe that wasn't such a good idea- my brother never gave him a name. And didn't bother to teach him much…"

Steiner's stare goes off into the distance.

"I hope that little guy's doing alright."

At the question of being a ghost, Owzzers corpulent frame puffs his chest as Steiner does his best impression of the gallersits.

"A ghost, my dear? A phantom?? An apparition from beyond the grave???"

Then, he deflates.

"More like a lingering memory. I am not alive anymore. My life ended months ago, far away from this City, in a place not too different from what I have heard the Mercy to be… with a bottle of whiskey, reason why I asked. As for Connor? No. I walked these streets way before that idiot was born. My concern isn't Connor, Miss Bellard. That cuthbertine is just a very, very small fish in a very big ocean. And I can assure you that a few that are in this city would agree with me…"

Steiner again goes quite for a few sconds as he takes another swig.

"My beloved traveling friend, Lysa Silentwhisper, whom I had to part ways… and Archaidous Mithmironel, who was there the day I left this earthly realm. As for 'working through agents', this guy's the finest, so it's not like I have a complex network. You see, when you associate during your life with beings of…certain power, things happen. In my case, my travels all over Oerth must've left an imprint of who I was here, in this Gallery, which incidentally belonged to me first, but, as circumstances go, I had to be on the move and sell. The only guy at the time with the coin was Reginald's great grandfather. I was on the move and a tad desperate, so it was a steal- five hundred. Of course, it's a lot fancier now, but five hundred and not even a signed contract.. which is best."

On the subject of Veronica Ashford's portrait, Steiner turns to look at you.

"She? No. I knew her. Got to know her kin as well. One worst than the next, but she was a brilliant woman. A tad too cold for my test. I wanted to catch that in the painting. I'm surprised Owzzer kept it here and not in the back room."

On the matter of getting someone from the Mercy, Steiner serves himself another drink.

"I went through a lot of trouble to find someone. Mercy, City, rooftops… hell, whoever answered and I thought could help. The fact Clarke decided to head for the Mercy was not my doing. But how does providence works- I find one who I can suspect is not too fond of the new guy in charge and a druid. That, Miss Bellard, is no mere coincidence."

Steiner puts his erin down.

"A week ago, maybe a little more, I saw my old friend, Lysa Silentwhisper. I told you about her, a pixie. I also saw Archaidous Mithmironel, whom I tasked months ago with a very delicate matter, best not discussed now. Through Owzzer, I saw the big balloons up in the sky denouncing the elf. I knew the elf barely, but he is not a criminal, quite the contrary. Then, they both showed up here, in the gallery. Hehehehe… Lysa foiled some hack artist, Bitterstein and the gallery would've closed up, were it not that I… convinced the authorities in charge that it would be a good idea to keep it running. The whole Connor expo was that girl's plan, though, which worked to find someone. But I needed someone with spunk, as they say. Someone that could help these two, and in doing so, help this City because, darling- if those two, are not back on track, there won't be a city left…"

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Victoria would pay an arm and a leg for what this tower of a man was talking in some derelict Mercy building.

Torture, enslavement… magic siphoning. That last part was ominous as it were.

What effect could it have on the entire city? You;re a spell caster. A damn good one, but would you be able to withstand that effect. That woman, Clover- she inflitrated the prison with ease and even she nearly died.

Then there's that foot and leg… five hundred feet tall. A monument? With the money Connor is said to spend on paintings for the Palace of Justice, why need an even bigger statue? Plus, his face shows up daily on the Eyes in the Sky. If the man wants recognition and exposure, he got it…


But you can probably give him the kind of exposure he does not want at all. The one that gets you kicked out.


Then, you attempt to recall what you know about this Felicia Payne…

Details are sketchy on this woman. She wasn't seen much in the city streets because, well, her work kept her indoors.

And that work was at Cassandra's Bordello.

Then those two names: Carth and Mithmironel. Connor's scapegoats to raise even more taxes, no doubt. You had to find them. They knew more about this city than you, and they were only here for a few weeks tops.

Kyrich listens to your words and raises an eyebrow.

"My hardships will end when my team mates are rescued and my people are back where we belong, Mister Knell. But like I said earlier, getting this out to the people may not be the best way- I will not endanger my own in St. Noria's and, from what I have learned, that man, Connor, he will do anything to shut words of good intent."

That's when you get word of Silvia.

Oddly enough, I have my own business there. I help you with yours, you with mine. I'll meet you at your establishment tomorrow morning.

Another job. Hopefully not one that derails from this one. But you need Miss tauter- she can certainly help you uncover whatever is happening here.

On the subject of Mithmironel and carth's fate, Kyrich walks away and lays on a cot in the ground.

"It is getting late, Mister Knell. We can talk more about this come morning."

[Thokk_Smash]

Oh, Corwin would love to give Connor the exposure that he deserves. But he just has to remember: time and place...time and place.

It seems as though the second part of the story will wait until tomorrow. Inside he balks at the holdup, but outwardly he nods acceptance. I'll be back in the morning, he confirms with a nod.

He walks out of the dilapidated building and breathes deeply. So much learned in so little time. It will take him a little while to get it organized in his head, and he takes out a notebook to begin the process of committing the information to paper.

He makes his way through the Mercy back to its exit/entrance, crossing through and hailing a cab. He directs the driver to stop by the temple of Kord before going to his home. He spends the drive back scribbling furiously into his notebook, writing as much as he could remember of the Githslayer's tale. Once the tale is committed to paper, he flips to an empty page to begin the arduous process of sifting through his thought process on the whole thing.

He only stops writing in order to go into the temple and Send to Victoria: Sorry for late contact. Meet tomorrow morning at La Caféothèque. Big scoop, repeat, Big Scoop. Caveats attached, however.

Once finished with his message, he thanks the priests gratefully and continues on his way home. He is in the middle of yet another theory when the carriage stops in front of his building. He thanks the driver and flips him a silver piece as he gets down. The long walk up the seven flights of stairs is occupied by yet more scribbles, and he fumbles with his key when he reaches the door.

He lights a few lamps, changes into more comfortable clothing suited for sleep, and then sets about integrating this new information into the cluster already on his floor and walls. The next hour is spent scrawling theories onto paper, organizing papers by theory or by relevant person, etc. He has enough sense of mind to clear a trail to his sitting area, and to clear away enough of the sitting area for two people to comfortably sit.

It is late when he collapses into his bed, dagger tucked safely beneath his pillow. He is out like a light within minutes, lightly snoring after a hard day's snooping.

The first few knocks on his door barely begin to rouse him from his sleep. On the next set of knocks, however, his eyes spring open and he jumps to his feet. Another day, another chance to uncover hidden information. He makes his way to the door and opens it, welcoming Silvia with a smile that is still sleep-filled. Miss Tauber, thank you for coming! Come in, come in. I'll just need a minute to change and get ready and we can be off within the half hour. Between his messy hair and clothing, it is obvious he has just woken up, but he seems alert enough to point out the sitting area and that she can help herself to any refreshments she may want.

It doesn't take long for him to wash up and change, but he still hopes Silvia isn't the impatient type as he comes back to the sitting room. Sorry about that; long night, trust me, he says with a chuckle.

Sorry to somewhat control Silvia, Still_I_Rise, just trying to keep things moving. Let me know if I went out of line.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Leaving the Illumian in his derelict shack, you leave the Wall and enter Halmathan proper as you hail a cab and head for your apartment.

It's late already as you jog up the seven flight of stairs and fumble with the keys.

If Silvia was to be here on the morrow, might as well tidy the place up a bit.

Then, you put on lighter clothes and jump in bed, as a pile of books and ledgers stack underneath it.

The life of a reporter- perhaps had you left all this stuff at The Gazette, but then who knows who might get the scoop.

Hopefully, Victoria got the message back the Kordite Temple. This thing had the potential to be big., Huge.

This could end Connor's reign…

And then, with the night lamp flickering beside you, you drowse off.

@Silvia: A new day.

Time to exercise.

The routine come almost mechanically, as you practice your pirhouettes on the suspended rings set on the ceiling.

The day is clear and sunny, despite a cold front coming from the open window.

Of course, some sword practice is not to be forgotten as the Connor dummy bounces back and forth, its face almost unrecognizable by now.

Once ready, you call the lift and leave the Olympus Heights as the Eyes in the Sky begin broadcasting.

Connor's face shows up on the screen, all over the city, with his bushy grey eyebrows and mustache.

Fellow Citizens! A reminder that Martial Law is already implemented. Everyone is to be in their homes or establishments of Hospice by eight o'clock. Failure to comply, will be meted out swiftly. Be an example to your fellow Halmathan and obey the rules. It is for the safety of The City.

Have a Lawful and Blessed Day...

Then, his face fizzes out and one of many Cuthbertine representatives appears on screen reporting on the weather.

It takes about an hour to reach River Street and thankfully, due to your training, climbing seven flights of stairs is a breeze.

The knock takes a few minutes to be answered as Corwin opens the door, one eye closed and a toothbrush in his mouth.

His hair has seen better days.

The reporter had sat with you many times before.

First, to interview you as a star at the Royal theatre.

Lately, to converse and discuss- always in hushed tones about how to improve the City- which mainly included Connor.

The apartment isn't as big as yours. A lot of papers. Books. dshelves overflowing with them and a few stacked on top of the shelves.

You knew Corwin was an intellectual, but weren't those supposed to be tidy as well? regardless, the man said he had a scoop. A big one. And a caveat.

But what about your own?

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia yawns and stretches as she wakes up. Sleep may have been a long time coming last night, but when it hit, it hit hard. Her tiredness was gone - time for a new day.

After her morning routine and a light breakfast, she heads out to meet Corwin. The interruption from the Eye in the Sky is met with an upturned finger as she continues on her way. At least in the Mercy she wouldn't be dealing as much with Connor's ego.

She smiles somewhat wryly at Corwin's appearance as he opens the door. "Of course, of course," she says, taking a seat as Corwin goes back to getting ready. Her eyes wander over the stacks of books and papers. Has he really found the time and patience to read all of these?

Not that the material wouldn't be interesting, however. She reaches over to one of close by papers and peruses it while she waits.

"You must have been onto something, then," she says as he comes out again.

"I'm sure it will make a fascinating story." Her small talk doesn't last for long.

"There are several people I need to find in the Mercy, and unfortunately, people I need to find in order to find them. My first lead will be an old man named Johann. He was the first conductor for the Dragon's Flight, all those years ago... I need to find out where the old station was."

She sits back, seeming to say, Well, I've told you mine; you tell me yours.

[Togo]

Pharis leaves the shop. He's still thinking about her words. He wonders if they would have been any different had she known what he wanted the sweets for. Distracted, he picks up the other items, a box of second hand bric-a-brac including an old festival mask, a black curtain, a dressmaker's dummy badly damaged on one side, and a fishing rod, without really thinking about it.

He knows what everyone thought he should do. But it was the reasons that bothered him. Sure Sarjon was bad news, but they weren't complaining about that, were they?

He moves through the crowd, lost in thought, and passes a cart on the wrong side, so he'd be forced against the wall, waiting for the cart to move before he could continue. When the cart does move he's no longer there, but rather halfway up the narrow stone chimney that takes rain run off from the half-constructed great wall, into the street and the storm drain below. It's a narrow fit, but its not like there's any water in it - the wall was never finished so it surely can't lead anywhere.

No, they were worried about him. About wasting him. Wasting what he could be. Which was what, exactly? He'd wanted to be a student, but that was just another way of preparing to be... to be what?

He carefully draws himself up into a hollow, scooped out of the massive stone construction. Like most people building in Mercy, the builders had used older buildings and ancient foundations to anchor their new endevour. That had created some odd space. A bit of magical shaping of the rock, and some fairly invovled calculations as to where hollows wouldn't be noticed, and he had his own space. It wasn't much, but it was his, alone.

That sweetshop bothered him.

He shutters the gap that formed his only window, and moves deeper into the narrow rambling set of spaces, before making a complicated gesture, and setting a hovering orb of light floating before him. He's been forging all day, so a bit more is dismaying, but there's something about creating a fake historical document that just tickled his fancy.

It's because, he realises, that if he does what he thought he wanted to do, what he really thought he should do, then people like Marie and her shop would be obvious targets for retribution. Was it right, to expose her to yet more suffering? Could he make that decision for her?

The spell he left second, as a treat. He had never heard of anyone calling a creature from where he was trying to conjure it from. He wasn't sure it would be possible, but then there was a lot he had to learn. Certainly it came together simply enough. He's just have to trust that it would work.

The answer came to him. It bothered him at first, but examining it from every angle, he couldn't fault the logic. He had to have that right, everyone had to have that right, or else all social action was impossible. He had to be free to others at risk, just as he was free to put himself at risk. The only question was what risks to take.

Dressing the dummy took very little time, which was as well because he had to hurry. Time to get to the pier, if he was to set things up before meeting the Captain.

Crossing the rooftops in the gloom of sunet, he thinks about who he could talk to. Maybe he'd been too isolated, allowed himself to be scared into a rut. He needed to find someone to talk to about this. Find someone to talk to about magic. Find a way to do... what needed to be done.

Twenty minutes before nightfall, and all is ready at the pier. He sits at the end, fishing rod in hand, and waits for the Captain to appear.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You take a seat on the old couch as Corwin gets ready for the day.

You can hear the water moving through the walls.

Plumbing has been a wonder in halmathan. The King certainly spared no expense, but it is clear that this building's plumbing is not the finest- back at the Olympus you can't even hear it when you turn on the shower.

Then, you lift some pieces of paper and a pamphlet catches your eye.



Letters of a Free Man


http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/34/Illustration_de_Edward_Baines_-_History_of_the_Wars_of_the_French_Revolution,_181 7.jpg

The people understands things poorly; it rarely sees things as they are, even more rarely does it grasp their totality, and it almost never calculates the suite des événéments- sequence of events. This is the result of the people’s lack of enlightenment. ... In order for the people to avoid being placed once more under the yoke, it is necessary for it constantly to be ready to evaluate its rulers at their deeds. Freedom will only be fully guaranteed once public spirit is mature; that is to say, when the people knows its rights and duties, when it understands men and the passions that actuate them, when it has the appropriate understanding of the agents of Power to penetrate their schemes and perceive the traps they set. This is the point to which publicists must bring the city.

You know Corwin is an investigator…but an instigator as well?

@Pharis: You leave The Mercy, still wondering if your actions will have consequences to the good people left under Sarjon's rule.

Not that the other side of the wall was any better- The Inquisitor and his oppressive policies. Corrupt officials. Overinflated taxes…

This city had become a breeding ground for corruption… and you were helping it, one forgery at a time.

The sea breeze is a welcome scent as the many ships- big and small- rock against each other by the piers.

Rashema's Marina is one of the biggest docks on this side of teh world, or so you;ve been told. Ships from all over Oerth come here for trade.

And despite Connor's taxes, trade flurishes. One must wonder why.

Then, you sit on the pier and take out an old fishing rod, hoping to catch something…

It takes a few minutes for the catch to come in.

You're the forger boy?

An officer. One decked in light armor and in his late fifties, with a sword strapped to his belt and a baton on the other side. The man wears a cloak and hood.

"Captain Callais. I believe you have something for me?"

[Thokk_Smash]

His floor is home to a wide variety of books and pamphlets: travel guides, encyclopedias, fiction, non-fiction, all in varying languages. And, of course, his own notes, scribbled onto sheaves of paper.

When he leaves the shower, bright-eyed and fresh as a daisy, hair slicked back from his eyes and stubble shaved, Corwin grabs a slice of bread and jam from the larder. Noting the pamphlet in the dancer's hands, he chuckles. A friend's current occupation, bringing the truth to The Mercy. I help how I can.

And oh, you've absolutely no idea, he says with a chuckle.

He listens as she speaks, munching on the small snack as he nods along. The Dragon's Flight, that old thing? Shouldn't be too hard to find its old station. Good thing it sounds like you've got more than that, otherwise this may be a bit boring.

He grins and gives her a wink. Good thing my story's exciting enough for the both of us. Now, this first story doesn't leave this room, or else my most recent employers may find reason to give me a few more holes to breathe from, if you catch my drift.

I've been hired to track down the youngest daughter of Vensutiano Castaferni, y'know, the olive oil kingpin? She was kidnapped by a drow assassin in broad daylight; snatched in the middle of a gang of guards and two of her own brothers, neither of whom are pushovers. She had silver hair down to her feet, and they said she seemed to dance as she dealt her death. Three guesses who that brought to mind, and the first two don't count. So at first, I needed your help to find the daughter and keep that drow from eviscerating me.

Now, in the course of my preliminary investigation, I found a cabal of Illumians in the Mercy--soldiers of the Plane of Shadow, stranded on the Material. They were held captive in St Noria's, until one of their number broke them out. He lets that sink in, eyebrows raised and smirk broad. He broke them out, then said that he teamed up with two other persons of interest. I'm going to meet up with him later this morning, after I meet my contact in the Gazette in La Caféothèque. It won't take even a quarter hour.

[Tyrann]

A talking bogun? She'd have to try with a pearl of speech..

"A bogun wouldn't leave your brother. Not willingly. I accidentally locked Sock in a closet once. He toppled the whole thing trying to get out."

Boguns didn't survive their creator either. Meaning this Lacore brother was still alive. And a druid as well.. If the brothers were anything alike that could be very interesting.

"And I doubt most druids would willingly leave their boguns either. Did something happen to your brother?"

When Steiner explains what he is, or was, Olly nods. She still doesn't understand, but she doesn't have to. This was enough to make sense of things for now.

When he gets to the subject of Connor being a small fish in a big pond however, she can't help but comment:

"I don't know. He appears big enough from where I'm swimming. But if he is a puppet, then who or what is pulling at the strings?"

She zones out a little at the mention of Archaidous. That elf sure didn't sit on his laurels. She is pulled fully back into the conversation at the mention of the unsigned contract, and chuckles.

"So what you're saying is, the place is still yours, technically? I'm sure old Owzzer would love to find out about that.

And that painting.. I only just now realized that was your name. Holy hells, you were good."

When he's done explaining everything she bites her lip and thinks. So.. He wanted her to aid Mithmironel and a Pixie.

If he was right, and there was a good chance he was, she only really had two options. She could help him, or get the hell out of the city. But if she left, what would she tell everyone? "A ghost told me to leave? Pack your stuff and let's go?" And leaving this place to whatever was behind Connor? No, she couldn't..

She takes a deep sigh, not believing what was about to come out of her mouth.

"I don't know about providence. But I do know that in the few minutes I've been talking with you I've learned more about this city than I have in 20 years of living in it.

Let's be clear. I don't like this one bit. But Halmathan means too much to me to let it sink. You've got my help.

Oh and incidentally, you might have seen me on the balloons too" she winks.

"A public dissenter smearing the walls of this fair city with what experts on the matter refer to as 'grafitti'. I did one on your elf friend too, actually."

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia sets down the paper with a warm smile. If Corwin was this engaged against Connor, there didn't seem to be any harm in disclosing just who she was going to meet in the Dragon's Flight.

She listens intently as he recounts his task, and what he found the night before. Her eyebrows raise as he tells her about the drow assassin. "So there's another blade dancer about then," she says bemusedly. "I haven't met another since I came to the city. But," her lips draw back, "I look forward to the competition."

"Illumians? That is odd indeed. Do you know what they were doing here?"

"At any rate, lest you believe the Dragon's Flight will be too boring for you, I ought to tell you just who I intend to meet there: One Archaidous Mithmironel. He and some others are in there searching for several notable Fey who used to reside in the Park before Connor's stifling influence overtook the city. From what I've been told, there isn't any time to waste getting there either... Mithmironel claimed to have been engaged in fighting invisible foes when he responded to the Sending that contacted him.

That sounds more like your area of expertise, after all."

Silvia shrugs. "Let's get started!"

[Thokk_Smash]

The assassin used a spell to make her weapons spectral, and able to deal damage with just a touch. Techniques that the Royal Guard use, Luigi Castaferni said. I have full confidence in your skills, I just thought I'd warn you.

From what they said, they accidentally teleported into St Noria's, and Connor, benevolent and wise ruler, threw them into the cells without trial or jury. They said that they were even tortured, which I don't know about you, but I believe it.

Aha, so there was more to her story. He listens attentively to her story, then has to question the fortuitousness as he chokes back a laugh. If I were a more religious man, I'd say the gods are watching out for us. Mithmironel is part of the group that my Illumian contact worked with! Assuming he survived his invisible antagonists, the Githslayer should be able to point us in the right direction.

Tossing the last bit of bread into his mouth, he swiftly chews and swallows it before standing. Like you said, let's be off!

He lifts the crossbow from its place on the shelf and hooks it onto its place on his belt. His dagger is already in its sheathe on his wrist. He reaches into the pile of papers and takes out a manila folder: a summary of his notes on Kyrich's story, encrypted in the code that he and Victoria use to keep their stories private.

Opening the door for Silvia, he closes the door and locks it behind them. Calling for a carriage, he directs the driver to go to the Cafe. Once at the Cafe, he gets a seat if Victoria isn't there yet, or else joins Victoria if she is. He calls for an espresso, and offers to pay for Silvia's drink of choice.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Steiner looks at you and his smile turns to a frown.

"No… the bogun didn't leave my brother. It was the other way around. As to my brother? Well, he died. I'd like to believe he died the way he wanted, but that's a tale for some other time. As for the bogus? He was granted free will. With it came speech. I am aware of ways to awaken constructs like boguns, but that was… well, that was something else."

Regarding Connor being tied to strings, Steiner shrugs.

"If only you had any idea of the amount of strings that hold everything together, Miss Bellard… but the City right now matters most. I do not know if this Connor is puppetted or not, but he is a threat. And if my dear friend Lysa is here with Archaidous, no less, then they are surely on their way elsewhere… but why have they stopped here?"

On the comment of his talents as an artist, Steiner chuckles.

"When you live out on the road, Miss Bellard, you lear a few things: How to survive. And how to make quick coin. I got lucky with the survival part, and when it came to coin, if I wasn't spinning a tale, I was drawing portraits. Halmathan, Furyondy, Geoff, The Jade Sultanate… it's a big world out there, and it's worth taking care of it."

On the matter of providence, Steiner beckons you to follow him to the back room, where a bunch of old paintaings lie stacked against each other.

"I learned a long time ago that providence is where you find it and what you do with it. Care to give me a hand?"

Steiner moves a pair of paointings aside and dusts off one in particular. An old painting.


http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2013/122/1/b/enchanted_forest_by_winterkeep-d63swu9.jpg

Steiner looks at it and sighs.

"I hope it's faring better now… you have a knife? Dagger? Claw?"

[Tyrann]

Olly gladly helps Steiner with the paintings, admiring everything that passed through her hands.

When he asks for a claw she shrugs and turns into a tiger, almost indistinguishable from the real thing except for the necklace that still hung from her neck, and the odd stripe near her waste, reminiscent of the studded black leather belt that had loosely hung from her human hips moments before.

"You aren't going to ask me what I think you're about to ask me, right?"

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: Corwin dscribes the assassin the Castaferni are after.

An expert with the blade. A dancer. and one who attacked using a spectral weapon.

Well, you are Halmathan's Eastern Star. Your skill with the blade is unrivaled. If there is a competitor skulking around the city, she'll regret ever meeting you, that's for sure.

@Corwin: The Dragon's Flight- one of Halmathan's finest innovations, before The Mercy burned down. That machine was supposed to make transit around the city faster, comfortable. Free.

And then, that old machine and its staion became a hub for beggars and rats and trash. Nobody would venture into The Mercy after the fire. And so, one of the gnome's finest pieces of architecture in Halmathan history as abandoned to time.

@Corwin & Silvia: You reach La Caféothèque about forty five minutes later.

The quaint cafe is abuzz with people and Victoria Glasz is already seated, sipping on a latte.

@Silvia: Victoria Glasz.

When Corwin worked at the Gazette, he did mention her many times as chief editor. A charming and very intelligent woman. From what you've learned from Corwin himself, not a fan of Connor. Although the Gazette is being occupied by the forces of the Cudgel now, that does not stop Miss Glasz from leaving and entering at her will.

"Miss Silvia Tauber. Born in the Jade Sultanate. Came to Halmathan four years ago and have been working for Lord Patin Laughton in various productions at the Royal Theatre… at least until recently. Sorry. The reporter in me. I'm Victoria Glasz. A pleasure."

@Corwin: The server comes in and bows to Silvia, who has been at the cafe several times herself with quite an entourage during her days as a star.

"A pleasure to have you here, Miss tauter. How may I serve you? Sir, anything you'd like to drink?"

Victoria sips from her coffee and looks straight at you.

"You mentioned something last night, Corwin. Is it something safe to say here?"

Victoria gives Silvia a quick glance.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Steiner smiles as you shut your eyes and your body suffers a radical transformation.

Your punk do acquires black and orange stripes as your face grows a muzzle and you are forced on all fours as elongate your body as sharp claws extend from your paws.

Steiner smiles. as you speak.

"I saw Balion pull that trick, but he went with wolves, mostly. and never did he speak… then again, he never spoke much when he wasn't a wolf… ok, Miss Bellard. I just need you to rip a fine line here behind the painting."

You raise an eyebrow at the request, but so far, this man has not done anything strange- well, stranger than what is already transpiring.

The claw rips easily through the canvas and Steiner sticks his pudgy hand inside.

"I mentioned Providence before, Miss Bellard. I forgot to mention Foresight…. and here it is."

Steiner takes out a thick lock of golden hair. Who knows how long it has been inside the painting, but just looking at it, you can tell that is no ordinary lock of hair.

"You can change now, if you wish. After all, I doubt the good folk outside would take kindly to a tiger. This is a memento of an older time in my life. Of someone I care about tremendously. Olly Bollard, I am trusting you with this because, well, I guesss i'll chock it to blind faith. This is no ordinary hair. Do not attempt to analyze it through magical means, lest you're stunned for a week. This will help you find Lysa and Archaidous. If I'm correct, they will be able to recognize it and use it the way it's intended. I believe she'd like it to be that way."

[Still_I_Rise]

"No thank you Corwin," Silvia replies, "I'll pick up my own tab."

Then to the server, "A cup of Oolong Tea, please. Any kind will do."

"Likewise, Miss Glasz. Your reputation as a reporter is very high." Her face stays blank when Victoria shoots her glance over.

[Thokk_Smash]

An espresso, large, extra sugar, and a chocolate crepe, Corwin says. He shrugs good-naturedly at Silvia's refusal, and smiles at Victoria.

Silvia's good people. She shares our views on the city's current predicament. I already gave her half the story that I'm about to tell you, so just listen close and don't make any sudden moves that'll draw attention from the Cuthbertines, mmkay?

He waits until he gets his espresso and crepe, biting into the breakfast food with joy. So, remember how you were talking about your big scoop yesterday? The jailbreak, and all that? he begins, speaking in a low enough voice so that only the two can hear him. Well, I got a personal interview with the man who broke them out. He was in the Mercy, just like your contact said. He's an Illumian, and part of a military group who accidentally teleported into St Noria's a few weeks back. They were immediately locked up, and tortured; no trial, no nothing. It was pure luck that the guy got out at all, but he managed to get most of his crew out.

The spellcaster who broke him out said that her magic was being siphoned away somehow--imagine if Connor did that on a city-wide scale. Just imagine, Toria.

I've got as much of the story as I could remember written down in here, he says, taking out a thick book and placing it on the table. The inside, hidden from the prying eye, is hollowed out and contains the encrypted notes from his interview. You can take it, but there's the caveat I mentioned: some of his crew is still in there, and they don't want this story to go public for fear of what Connor would do to them if it did. Now, you know me: the people deserve to know exactly what the grand Poobah is doing with their people and money.

But the guy is at least a foot taller than me, has chains longer than I am tall, and knows my face, so I'd appreciate it if you could at least sit on this until the right time. Use it to focus your search, find information you can use that doesn't involve his friends. Or publish it, and risk his friends being hurt and me being brutalized. I can deal with one more guy hating my guts. It's your choice.

He sits back to let the information sink in, sipping his espresso and munching his crepe. Mmm, chocolate.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: The server brings you a steaming cup of oolong tea, along with a porcelain pitcher.

A mint leaf floats in the tea and wafts through the table as you sip it and calm your nerves.

Victoria drinks from her latte. A reporter like her, in these days and times, must be jittery as ever.

More caffeine perhaps is not what they need.

And then Corwin asks for even more sugar.

@Corwin: The creppe is swimming in melted chocolate, sprinkled with powedered white sugar. The espresso, a delicious bitter combination.

Victoria Glasz listens to your story and tries her best to keep a straight pocker face as yet another garrisson of guards march through the street, a few feet away from you.

"Illumians. Torture in the Castello. Jail breaks at St. Noria's… magic being siphoned? Corwin, this is THE scoop! But if Connor is going to suck in all magic. I mean… is that even possible? I understand a mad man like him who hates everyone- casters included- would dream of that, but is such a feat possible?"

You hand the encrypted files to Victoria as she finishes her latte.

"You know that I am dedictaed to deliver the truth, Corwin. It's my job. Frankly, these last months, the truth is rarely even printed. Wirth Connor's snoops in the Gazette, we print only what the Grand Poobah wants people to know, but this… this can change the entire regime, Corwin. The churches and nobles would demand an investigation immediately…"

Victoria pauses mid sentence to collect her thoughts.

"…but the truth should not be repoprted at the expense of a life. I will conduct my own research. In private. You will not come to suffer. Neither will the illumians. Best find a way to get them back home. Then, hide. Because once that's done, this is hitting the presses."

Victoria finsihes her coffee and puts a few silvers on the table as she gets up.

"A pleasure meeting you, Miss Tauber. Keep this guy out of trouble, ok?"

And before leaving, Victoria turns to look at you.

"Oh! guess who's been assigned to oversee the Gazette? An old friend of yours- Downfeather. Small city, huh? Be good Corwin, Miss Tauber."

And so, Victoria Glasz leaves La Caféothèque with perhaps the single most important document to topple Connor's regime.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia sips her tea silently, watching the two reporters at their business. Ordinarily, she'd be the one bursting with energy, but there would be time enough for that later. For now, it was nice to have a few moments of calm.

"Oh, I will," she grins. "No worries."

Now to meet the Illumian.

[Thokk_Smash]

"Change the entire regime"...gods, that sounded glorious. Not for the first time, Corwin wishes he had been disguised when he'd spoken to the Illumians and Kyrich. Without fear of those chains being used on him, he would have lied about the Illumians being in danger and encouraged Victoria to run the headline. The longer they wait, the longer that bastard sits on the throne, and the longer the people suffer.

He gives her a smile and a wave goodbye, though his smile dims when he hears her last bit of news. Wyldon... he thinks, smile turning to a grimace. Of all the paladins in the city to be chosen to oversee the Gazette, it had to be him.

Still, Corwin shakes his head and the smile returns to his face. He downs the rest of his espresso, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Nothing like caffeine to keep the brain thinking fast. And now, we're off once more, Miss Silvia, he says, placing enough coins for the bill and tip onto the table.

Flagging down a carriage, he bids the driver to drive to the temple of Kord, and then to the Mercy. Once safely inside the temple, he casts Nondetection on himself, strengthened by his Extend rod. He offers to do the same to Silvia, saying, Never hurts to be cautious these days.

He offers the driver a gold piece tip if they hesitate to drive to the Mercy. Once back inside the Mercy, he maneuvers expertly through the streets to the dilapidated apartment where he had met the Githslayer the day before. Looking both ways to see if they'd been followed, he knocks on the door. Githslayer Kyrich, it's Corwin Knell.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia & Corwin: You bid good bye to Victoria and finish your tea and coffee.

The Eyes in the Sky chug black smoke silently overhead as Corwin hails a cab and head for the Kordite Temple, where a discussion can be heard at the door.

It's Father Bhagazzin the Blunt, head priest of the Kordite Church, built like an ox, despite his size and scrawny Dalpinian, surrounded by a wall of men in full plate.

"You have been already graciously offered this, Father Bhagazzin. This is the last time His Holiness will ask for your help… do reconsider."

Bhagazzin has to be restrained by his fellow Kordites as you get off the carriage.

"Why doesn't he come over here and tell me this to my face? I'll show him how gracious I can be. Begone, worm! A real temple needs to be ran and I don't need mock cuthbertines at my door!"

Dalpinian watches both of you get off the carriage and Connor's protege raises an eyebrow at silvia as he gets in his black carriage, with the Cudgel's emblem and this one rides off, flanked by a small squad of guards.

Bhagazzin begins cursing in dwarven as he enters the temple proper. Whatever Dalpinian had offered hi, had been enough to anger the priest of the brawler. And you knew damn well that this dwarf alone was able to hold a small army at bay when they were about to storm the gates to the royal palace.

You then cast a series of spells on yourself and Silvia- one can never be too careful with those things floating like mute vultures several hundred feet above.

Then, you hail another carriage and head straight for The mercy, paying the coachman an extra gold to leave you at the wall's entrance.

The Mercy is dirty, of course. Crowded with people selling and buying wares of reputable quality.

You stop iin front of an old abandoned and charred building as Corwin knocks on the door.

Come in!

the interior is no better than the exterior. It would seem an explosion has destroyed the place, leaving no furniture whatsoever.

Then, you meet Corwin's ilumian.

The man is a mountain of muscle. Taller than you and Corwin.

he wears only his pants and boots, his armor placed on the ground a few feet away and has used a rebar sticking out of the wall to do upside down crucnhes as sweat drips down hiis body.

Red in the face from being upside down for who knows how long, Githslayer Kyrich leaps down and wipes his bald brow as he walks up to both and shakes your hands, sweaty and firm.

"Corwin Knell, reporter. And you brought someone else…a reporter? I am Githslayer Kyrich."

[Thokk_Smash]

@Kordite Temple

Watching the commotion with curiosity, Corwin waits until the Cuthbertine lackey drives away before approaching the priest. Father Bhagazzin, a moment, please, he calls out. If I may ask, what was that about? What did the Grand Poobah ask for help with? He gives a small smirk, hoping to lighten the dwarf's mood with the jab at Connor's title.

@Dilapidated Apartment w/Githslayer

Corwin shakes the gigantic man's hand, subtly wiping his hand of the sweat when the man isn't looking. No, she's no reporter; meet Silvia Tauber, Halmathan's Eastern Star and the best dancer to grace the stage. I brought her partly for protection, and partly because she's looking for Mithmironel.

Which brings us to the main reason for us being here. If you could, please pick up where you left off last night. What happened after you teamed up with Carth and Mithmironel? And where are those two now?

[Still_I_Rise]

"Yes, of course," Silvia says, accepting Corwin's offer of Nondetection. "Thank you."

She gives Dalpinian a steady, disapproving gaze as he looks up at her. Just who did that worm think he was? It would have been satisfying to see Father Bagazzin get at him, even for just a moment.

"A pleasure to meet you, Kyrich," she says with a respectful nod after Corwin introduces her.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia & Corwin: Before leaving the Kordite Temple, you approach a very angry Bhagazzin and try your best not to tap him in the back, for gear of losing your arm or be sent flying through a wall.

The dwarven priest looks at both and smirks as you mention Connor's title, The Grand Poobah.

"Grand Piece of Sh**, is a term I have used on occasion. To his face. As to what his lap snake was doing here? What he came to offer a week ago. This-"

Bhagazzin presents you with a crumpled letter bearing the Cudgel's Insignia.


Father Bhagazzin,

It is not unknown that your flock, blessed by Kord, possess titanic strength. I believe that such divine gifts would be best suited in Karyllyn's Mine. Your racial expertise working underground should prove very useful in order to get the mines to work.

It goes without saying that, should you collaborate, the Church of the Brawler would find itself bereft of the many accusations against The City. Halmathan knows how to recognize their faithful laborers.

Needless to say, this is the second letter that I have sent you. You are regarded as a paragon of Wisdom. I would suggest you show it.

His Holiness,

Grand Inquisitor Connor of the Cudgel, Steward of Halmathan

Bhagazzin is enraged as he punches one of the columns of his temple and this one shakes, causing some pebbles to bounce off his helmet.

"I said no the first time, and yet he believes that, because I'm a dwarf I must know how to work mines! I'll show him my wisdom alright. I'm sending a letter addresed to him now… after I'm done eating a big meal. If you'll excuse me."

Bhagazzin takes the letter from you and slams the door behind you to the Inner temple.

Once at Kyrich's place of residence, you introduce Silvia as the eastern star.

The illumian Shadow Guard shakes your hand and does a military stand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Silvia, the Eastern Star. So, Reporter Knell- you wish to know what else happened? Ok. as before, I ask that this is kept secret. I hope Miss Silvia understands that?"

Kyrich sits on the ground and checks his spiked chain, which could easily slice both your throats with its reach.

"I met Father Carth at the Royal Mare, where I invited him to a private meeting in the Mercy. I do not know what took him so long, but he showed up with a woman in blue, a lady Ke'era, and a pixie, Lysa Silentwhisper…"

Kyrich then goes grim.

"That's when the assassin showed up. Klaus. Big guy, hooded, broad shouldered but extremely agile. I have fought many foes in the Plane of Shadow- mostly githyankis, but this one, I couldn't even touch him. The assassin was too good, hidinh without even need for cover and using darts to paralyze Lady ke'era and Lysa. Tonel carth defended himself rather well, but it would seem the assassin had a contract on him and so, despite my efforts, Tonel Carth died that night."

Kyrich gives pause and then continues.

"It would seem, however, that we were not out of luck. With two of three paralyzed, Archaidous Mithmironel showed up, but not alone- he had a masked elf with him. I cannot recall her name. She never gave it, but she seemed to know this Klaus. Called him an Astral Stalker, some form of demon, I'm guessing.

Archaidous Mithmironel was almost killed by Klaus. His speed unseen by me. His blade locked the elf in place and by the time the masked elf had finished conjuring some spell, both Archaidous and I were at Death's Door. Thankfully, the spell took effect and Klaus was banished. He said he'd be back for his quarry- Mithmironel- in a year and a day."

Kyrich allows the information to sink in, takes a deep breath and continues.

"Mithmironel retired. Some training somewhjere in the city, he said. Ke'era, lysa, and myself went on to track the whereabouts of a man- Alexander Anderson, who apparently was a good friend to these fine people and whom Klaus had abducted days prior and given to a man…. Cutter.

That's when our trail lead us to the Dragon's Flight."

Kyrich seems to go pale at this moment.

"An old coot, by the name of Johann gave us directions to the sttaion, deep in The Mercy. We were escorted by a kid named Kyle and his group. The trip there was safe…


The Dragon's Flight was a nightmare.

Guards. Royal Guards, according to Lysa. They stalked the carts of the Dragon;s Flight, but something was wriong with them- thsoe eyes: Crimson. their minds shattered. I defended those two as best as I could. Chain adter chain, punishing these crazed men, yet pain did not faze them, as they attempted to stand up. Some of them… broke apart. their bodies changing to reveal entrails and blood and weapons made from bone and sinew.

Yet we continued to push forward.

That's when the Dragon's Flight was activated.

What transpired after that is a tale of survival. We were beset against horrors I couldn't have even imagined. The machine sped like a comet. We fought for our lives there, and, against all odds, when all seemed lost, that man, Alexander Anderson spoke to us. How? i do not know, but I know he was not in that infernal machine, plagued with creatures from a mad man's canvas.

That's when the explosion happened.

It rocked the entire machine. From what little we could gather, it took place not too far from where we were, but, being busy surviving, we did not have time to pinpoint exactly where.

Then, the Dragon's Flight detonated. We would all have died, were it not for Lady Ke'era, whose abilities in the arcane are unsurpassed. The explosion knocked all of us out, by my guess, a week….

That's when we were found by Archaidous Mithmironel."

[Togo]

Pharis sighs.

Yeah. Give us a sec. After a quick glance around, he hands over a roll of papers, wrapped around with waterproof cloth.

Then he goes back to watching the ships, apparently unwary.

City just keeps on going, doesn't it? Makes you wonder why.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You hand a bundle of waterporrof papers to the officer and begin to get back on the pier, in order to catch a midnight snack.

The officer looks at the bundle and pockets it.

"Hey, dummy. Weren't you told? This is a delivery and pick up assigment. Follow me. The package is the hangar over there."

The officer begins walking a few feet and you do notice a large hangar, most likely used to store ship cargo.

"Shake a leg for fu*** sake! I'm on a schedule here!"

[WhiteRobbit]

Pyotr straightens under Cassandra's perceptive scrutiny, hoping to give her an impressive view.
"Good evening, Madame. May I say, what a lovely establishment you have here."
Pyotr examines the art with enthusiasm. "They say variety is the soul of pleasure, and tonight, I'm interested in a former caged nightingale named Clover."

[Thokk_Smash]

@Kordite Temple

Corwin shakes his head at the audacity of the Grand Inquisitor. Such blatant racism; aren't priests supposed to be worldly and tolerant? Then again, those terms never really fit the Grand Piece of Sh**. Corwin tucks the information about the mines away, to be thought of later, as he bids the priest a good day and good meal.

@Githslayer Kyrich

Once again, Corwin resists the urge to take out his new notebook right then to start taking notes. Ignoring the itch, he sits down near the giant of a man and listens intently. And the Illumian does not disappoint in his tale. Yet another story of action, adventure, and thrills that causes the reporter's brain to kick into overdrive. Or was that the caffeine? Both, probably.

Yet more assassins in his city; and this time, a demon, no less. He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears that the creature has been banished from their plane. He tries to think of who would have the pull and reach to hire a demon assassin as the Githslayer continues his story.

Although it seems like his thoughts were answered: Cutter. Proof that the madman still lives? Perhaps. Definite proof that the Mercy is even less safe than it normally was. And those mad creations--numerous and sturdy enough to give this beast of a man a run for his money. Cutter's business is booming. Hopefully Anselma isn't one of them.

So that explosion last week was the Dragon's Flight? he half-asks, half-thinks out loud.

Anyway, thank you again for this information. Where did you leave Mithmironel and his group? Did they give you any idea of where they were going? And did you notice a drow amongst your enemies, wielding a silver courtblade?

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia nods to Kyrich. "No worries. I can keep a secret."

"Mithmironel and his friends are still somewhere underground," Silvia says, "His Sending said that much."

[AlanBruce]

@Pyotr: Cassandra chuckles as she gestures a beautiful maiden dressed in a french maid outfit and carrying a silver tray with a pair of glasses of champagne as she hands you one and takes the other.

"And this, darling, is only the lobby… but you are looking for a nightingale by the name of Clover…"

One who is definitely not caged...

Both you and Cassandra turn around and there she is, wearing a leather armor and cloak. Blonde hair and blue eyes, just as you met her at that cell weeks ago.

"Thank you, Cassandra. He is the one I was looking for."

Cassandra smiles and winks.

"Have fun you two. I have some nobles to attend to."

Clover walks up to you and smiles as she gestures to a smaller room.

"Inside. Now."

The room has another painting of a nude cherub looking down at the viewer, surrounded by a garden of roses. Two divans, smaller in size, are separated by a small table as Clover shuts the door behind both and takes out a wand as she runs her hand through it and gestures at the door.

"Not that I do not trust Cassandra, but who knows if any of her patrons may be willing to speak to Connor afterwards."

Clover takes out one of yoru pamphlets and reads a portion of it.

"Freedom will only be fully guaranteed once public spirit is mature; that is to say, when the people knows its rights and duties, when it understands men and the passions that actuate them, when it has the appropriate understanding of the agents of Power to penetrate their schemes and perceive the traps they set. This is the point to which publicists must bring the city.
"

She then looks at you.

"Bold and brave words. yet they ended with you in a cell, Pyotr Marat. The City is indeed in dire need for a change. I have done some background check on you- you are estranged from your father, aren't you? That, in a sense, makes us kindred spirits. There are schemes being perpetrated by the P{owers that Be, but open revolution, as noble as it is in concept, in practice, it is doomed to failure. You may recall the druids in the park? They number in the hundreds and even they are kept at bay. Their church leader taken in chains right in front of them…"

Clover pauses in her thoughts.

"You need chains to break chains, Pyotr. If you have the gall to stand up to this insane pseudo monarch, perhaps you have what it takes to bring him down, but to do that, you need friends. Alone, one man is just that. Together, with kindred minds, he becomes an Idea. And that cannot ever be crushed."

Clover writes down a name on the pamphlet.

"Kyrich. Kyrich Githslayer. He lives in the Mercy. You find him, and you tell him that I sent you and that you wish to help. He will help you, of that, I am most certain."

@Corwin: This was getting out of hand. Demons in Halmathan. Unchecked. and assassins at that. Carth is dead. That's one less lead, but Mithmironel is still alive.

You need to reach that elf and questions him. He might have a lot more answers regarding what's going on.

Then there's the name- Cutter. Mentioned by Venustiano and whispered by many a few weeks ago. The mad transmuter- so he has been behind all this. And if his creations are running rampant in The Mercy…


Then, you ask the illumian about the explosion, whether it was the one caused by the Dragon's Flight.

"No. The explosion we witnessed almost tore down that machine as it sped through the tunnels. Ripped an entire cart apart, but it did not affect us. We were too busy fighting for our lives in there to notice where it came from.

The Dragon's Flight would explode several minutes later, but I saw that explosion. It was big, but not as big as the one we saw through the window. Has it attracted attention?"

Regarding your last questions, Githslayer Kyrich gets up and picks up his chain.

"I saw no drow with them. As for where I left Mithmironel? He found us. We were in a… room, I would have to guess, with a most unusual owner. All I know is that they were headed to see Alex, who apparently is alive."

The Githslayer heads for the door and opens it, allowing the sun to come through the old ruined building.

"You want your scoop, Corwin Knell? I can take you where I left that infernal place, but after that, you and Miss Silvia are on your own. The choice is yours."

[Thokk_Smash]

"Has it attracted attention", Corwin repeats the man's question, shaking his head. Like you wouldn't believe, and not at all the kind of attention the city needs. Connor, the bastard, used it as an excuse to put even more restrictions onto the mage's Academy; he blamed them for it. Because after all, only arcane magic is capable of blowing sh*t up, right?

His voice is absolutely dripping with condescension and sarcasm. So the increased pressure was because of their group, however indirectly. A consequence of striking against this shadowy enemy, sure, and so his frustration is funneled toward Cutter and whoever works with him.

He smirks at Kyrich as he opens the door. You just met me, so I guess you can't tell--but I always want my scoop. Lead on, Githslayer. He gestures for the Illumian to continue, following close behind. He considers whether to inquire more about the drow before descending into wherever Mithmironel is, but he can decide that later.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Kyrich looks up at the sky and you can see one of those Eyes chugging black smoke far away, beyond the wall.

"A hypcorite indeed. I saw no shortage of magic while I was imprisoned in that place. I do not know how your city works, Mister Knell, but it sure seems like it needs someone to clean it up. Because I have a feeling it's going to get messy… very soon."

@Silvia & Corwin: Githslayer Kyrich takes you through the rundown streets of The Mercy, away from the populated areas.

The tall scorched buildings a grim a reminder of what this place used to be. Now, only trash, waste and shy stragglers peek through the broken windows of the abandoned high rises as the illumian stop at a manhole and uses his prodigious strength to remove the lid.

"This is where I left the underground sewer complex. Last i saw them, they continued north, but I do not know where they ended. If you want to know where Mithmironel is, go down this hole… and pray you don't have to face what we did. Good luck."

And with such grim advice, the illumian walks at a steady place, back to more poulated areas.

[WhiteRobbit]

"I appreciate your passion, but why me? Why now? And what do you stand to gain from all of this? In time my efforts would have reached the stones that cause the avalanche, of that I am certain. What's your angle in all of this? Who is Kyrich Githslayer, and how can you guarantee his loyalty? How can he help my cause? How will you free this city?"

He stands firm, judging the weight of the answers against potential treachery.

[Togo]

No, noone told me anything about a pick up.

He trails the captain towards the warehouse, dragging a tindertwig out of a pouch in his belt, and fumbling absently in his tunic, as if for a pipe.

But his hand is holding a smokestick. Just in case.

I too, have a schedule though, so it's something heavy, then I'm afraid I won't be able to take it until later...

[AlanBruce]

@Pyotr: Clover listens to your barrage of questions and she simply places a copy of Letter of a Free man on the table.

"Well, this should be plainly obvious. You have drive, passion. Misguided, but it's there. Why now? Because time is running short, Pyotr. Before, the oppression was latent. Now, it going to burst. And its bile is going to poison everyone in the City. I mentioned before- a man can only do so much alone. You wish to make a difference. You carry that which makes you… special. And there are others like you, who also wish to make a difference. What do I get from all this…."

Clover goes silent for a few seconds.

"Peace, I guess. Resolution. Closure. And if you believe in time your efforts would've caused an avalanche, you are right, but not in the direction you'd want. Not alone. My angle is just liek yours. Cassandra's. And many, many others- to see this Halmathan freed from Connor's grasp. My methods are not as public as yours, reason why I haven't been sought out, but you have been proclaiming noble propaganda all over the streets. That will get you bagged and tagged straight to St. Noria's…"

Clover looks at you again.

"… and you don't strike me as the person who'd enjoy a stay there. And regardless Kyrich, he's a knight/ There is one knight in halmathan, but Connor has made sure he stays locked up in his own house. This knight, Githslayer Kyrich is not a citizen. I don't even believe Connor knows he exists. That, my friend, gives you and an edge. He is a loyal man. A noble man. I made sure of that. "

Clover gets up and heads for the door.

"I have answered your questions as best as I can, given the circumstances. What you do with them, I leave that to you and your conscience. Have a good night, Mister Marat."

Clover shuts the door behind you as the sounds of laughter and drinks being piured can be once more heard from the adjacent rooms.

@Pharis: Captain Callais walks a few feet ahead of you.

"Damn you people never giving the right instructions! How are we supposed to run business. It's a damn package. You pick it up, you take it back to your boss. Done. Or am I being overly complicated? Jeez…"

The warehouse is pretty big , at least eighty feet tall, with a wide open door, probably to haul in cargo from the ships.

The interior is dark, except for moonlight coming from a small window to the right annd a bigger one to the left, outlining crates upon crates piled up into uneven towers, some ten feet tall, others, twice as that.

Callais stand by the entrance.

"The package is in the center- a chest. I gotta pretend I'm running rounds here at the pier- can't be catching thieves, right? Heh. Go on, then! Can't have your lot walking around my pier after curfew."

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107423)

[Tyrann]

Olly heaved a sigh of relief, that inadvertently came out as a low growl.

For a moment she had been afraid Steiner was going to ask her to slash the front of the painting. That would've been a shame.

She should have gone with a bear. Tiger claws were made for hooking into flesh, not for manipulating object or cutting paintings. But tigers were better at running, and until a few moments ago she had thought she might be going through the painting. It had been that kind of evening.

When Steiner asks her to change back she flashes him a toothy grin

"And here I thought I was all fluffy and cute."

The tiger gets up on its hind legs, and starts shrinking back into human form, the stripes, hair, claws and teeth being pulled in, and the clothing and softer human features reappearing, along with the mohawk, still droopy.

She was so close to learning to control her human form too. That would be amazing. A new haircut every day. But Eirik wouldn't help her get there. Said it was only for vanity. The jerk.

She cracks her neck on both sides, rubbing it a little. Cat forms were nice to be in, but they were the worst to shift out of, especially if she did it all in rapid succession.

"You're really big on this whole providence thing aren't you? Thanks for the warning, I won't analyze it, then. But how will it help me find Lysa? I should probably get some sleep soon too, by the way. Those guys don't exactly lead a quiet life. I'll need my spells in the morning."

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Steiner hands you the lock of golden hair and walks with you to the front of the gallery, Owzzer's counter, but not before placing the painting right as it were, with a stack of old paintings behind it.

"I like tigers. I used to live in a palace that had them prowling around, but that was very far away. And a long time ago. As for the fluffy part…"

that';s when you shift back to your human form and Steiner rubs his fat chin as he admires your droopy mohawk.

"I like the look you have. The freckles add a nice touch. Had I met you when I was alive, I woul;d've done a portrait of you. Maybe if you meet my son one day… maybe."

Then, he points at the locks of hair.

"Now, Olly, this is important. This hair is no normal hair, reason why I adviced you not to try and use divinations on it. Oddly enough, one of these strands, amongst the many properties it has, it carries the ability to communicate with someone close to the owner of this hair. In this case, the pixie Lysa Silentwhisper. Just… lick the hair. I know, it's a little odd, but do it and think of Lysa's name. She should get the message. As for the other properties of the hair, they will keep you up to date on what they can do. This last piece, however…"

Steiner points at a curled lock, thicker than the rest.

"... that one is to be used only as a last resort. Do you understand, Olly? Last resort."

Steiner places his hand on your shoulder and looks at you in the eyes directly.

"So many lives of men have I walked this wide berth and here, in this old gallery, do I find someone able to make a difference. They will need your help, Olly. and they will help you in return. You have my word. Now, I feel my influence over this vessel waning. I have used much of my power to stay in it. Make up some excuse once I have begun to blink my eyes and Olly?"

Stiner takes his hand off your shoulder.

"Thank you…"

Steiner steps back and blinks once. Twice. Then shakes his head and you see that wise glean gone, replaced by confusion as Owzzer looks at you.

"Miss Bellard? Oh heavens! And where is Marketing Associate Judy? We were supposed to…"

That's when you hear Owzzer's stomach grumble as the fat gallerist sweats. That brew Elric made may have sat well with steiner, but a man like Owzzer…


The gallerist goes pale and sweats cold as he smiles and squeezes his butt cheeks and runs at top speed to the door.

"Ok, Miss Bellard! We will be in touch. i have to…ehhh… paint something. Good bye now."

The doors slams behind you and you can hear Owzzer running deeper towards the gallery- most likley the toilet.

It's dark already, and those Eyes in the Sky patrol the City from above in utter silence. The serach lights being the only evidence of their presence.

A lot of questions. A few answers… but what to do now?"

[Togo]

Pharis stares at him.

Seriously?

With a shake of the head, he lights the match, and starts moving into the warehouse, his voice echoing through the cavernous space.

You don't understand the situation at all, do you?

Rather than head directly to the chest, he takes a short detour to look around behind one of the boxes.

At N8 on the map

[Thokk_Smash]

Thank you, Githslayer Kyrich. If things indeed get messy, I hope I can count on you to at least protect this area. The people here are like family to me.

With a wave to the man as he leaves, Corwin turns to face Silvia. Looks like we're heading into the sewers. Definitely not my preference, but it's what needs doing to get answers. Hopefully, this leads me to Cutter and Castaferni's daughter as well, otherwise I fear what they may do if I take too long. Anyway.

He reaches into his haversack, retrieving his small shield and buckling it onto his left arm. Giving Silvia a grin and a loose salute, he reaches for the ladder and descends into the sewer.

Once underground and completely hidden from those damned Eyes in the Sky, he takes a tuft of bloodhound hair from a pouch and intones several arcane phrases. He keeps Mithmironel's image squarely in his mind as he does, and then he waits for Silvia to descend. I just cast a spell that should give us an idea of where Mithmironel is, once we get close enough. After you. He gestures for the dancer to take the lead; after all, protection is half the reason he called her.

He keeps his dagger in one hand, tied to his wrist with a sturdy cord, along with a wand. Another wand is held in his other hand, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

Dagger of Warning in one hand, which I will drop immediately when combat begins to be able to use the wand of Magic Missile. Wand of Nerveskitter in the other hand, to be used as an immediate action when combat begins.

Locate Creature will tell me the general direction of Archadious when he's within 920 feet.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: Caprain Callais raises en eyebrow.

"Understand what? Just go pick up the package, delivery boy."

The corrupt captain waits outside as you walk past the dily illuminated stack of crates. Towering above you and big enough to hide a medium sized man- possibly bigger if they were to hide behind a tower.

You then spot the chest.

Small. Made of leather, with a lock on it.

The captain stays behind at the door to the warehouse.

"Did you get it?"

Roll a Listen

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107434)

@Corwin & Silvia: Kyrich does a military salue before leaving.

We kept our sacred Library safe from the githyanki. We shall do the same here for your people, Corwin Knell. Be safe…"

You both descend and arm yourselves accordingly.

Corwin casts a series of spells, especifically, to allow him to find Archaidous Mithmironel.

If he's anywhere close by, he'll find him.

The sewers leave you a stretch of stone covered with muck to walk by.

Pipes as big as a man jut from the walls- sides and ceiling.

A green river filled with toxic waste emits a nauseating aroma, as metal barrels, cracked from the inside- clawed, are pushed by the currents.

It takes a few steps in and you realize both are alone. In the sewers… and nobody else to help you.

[Tyrann]

"I'd like to have drawn the real you too. But I guess I'll have to settle for Owzzer. For now, anyway."

When he starts fading she yells "Steiner wait! Do these have infinite uses? Or can I only use it once?"

When he's really gone, she whispers "Thank you too."

Once the true Owzzer takes off running, she picks up her bag and puts her booze and her bogun back in. Then she looks at the lock in her hand for a few moments. "Providence huh?" This night had been so weird. She carefully places the lock inside the bag too, before slinging the bag over her shoulder and casually walks past the toilets, yelling

"Like I told you Owzzer: A sherry and homebrew combination, will cause a stomach rumination. Sherry plus bushclover will cause you to keel over. Sleep it off, you'll be fine!"

Yeah, poetry was definitely not for her. Nor making excuses for that matter. But it would have to do.

She struts out, looks up, turns into a sparrow, and flies home to the park staying low and trying her best to dodge the lights.

She'd use the hair soon. But first she needed to see Eirik. She desperately needed his advice. He should still be taking care of the animals..

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: whatever Steiner had given you must've been of dire importance.

Providence… a funny word, indeed.

You leave Owzzer, suffering in the toilet as he groans in pain as his bowels protest against Elric's brew.

Speaking of Elric…

You step outside and look at a sparrow as this one looks back at you and, with the locks of golden hair in your bag, you reduce in size as your mohawk turns to feathers and dart off the streets of Halmathan, avoiding the Eyes in the Sky and dash towards the center of Glenndale Park.

This park has existed since before you were born. Scholars in Halmathan history state that the Airdan family forbid further urban encroachment. That this place oight to remain as a reminder- no matter how tall and ornate the buildings may be, it all comes back to Nature.

And in the deepest part of this mile wide swath of trees, you find Elric, Glenndale's Gentle Giant.

You met Elric a few years ago. A stone giant, but unlike others he told you about, his travels in the northern lands had made him grow a soft patch of white fur and hair. His rock like skin had softened and so had his demeanor.

rather than being dour and silent, Elric was always willing to partake on amicable conversation. An expert brewer, Elric had surprised you many times with his park made recipes, which involved roots, leaves and odd mushrooms.

Of course, when Connor took over, Elric had to hide. No longer could Glenndlae's Giant be seen by the gates or Ehlonna's Temple. He was a 'vile beast', according to Connor. And vile beasts were to be put to the sword immediately.

Of course, with such strength and the powers of a druid, Elric could've come out swinging, but he jnew better- in the end, he would cause the deaths of many for his actions. And so, Elric remains hidden, under the thick forest canopy.

And that's where you find him, sitting indian syle on the ground with a pottery wheel and clump of flat.

The giant lifts his head and sniffs the air as he speaks in a low voice.

"If I didn't know any better, someone's beeen drinking my special brew…"

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin & Silvia: It takes about five minutes walking through the sewer system and the toxic fumes and scents are repulsive to say the least.

This place is labyrinthine. Who knows how long it will take to find Mithmironel?

The green sludge lapping at the stone walkways is posionous merely at a glance.

Who knows what might happen down here were someone to drop in?

That's when a low moan and wail can be heard off in the distance. Chillin to the bone…


But where is it coming from?

Listen Checks

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107446)

[Tyrann]

Olly flies straight at the giant in sparrow form, changing into a human midair and landing in a big hug that would have flat out tackled any normal man.

"Did you miss me? Yeah, I fed it to Owzzer because he was.. well, it was complicated."

She slides down and sits, folding her hands in front of her mouth and making a sharp whistle. "Sid! Come here!"

She opens her pack and calls Sock out. With a thought she sends him to look around. She wanted to make sure they were alone. She also lights a smoke; the flight had taken too damned long.

Then, once she's sure nobody is listening, she looks up at her mentor and sighs.

"I've had a weird night El. Have you ever heard of a Steiner Lacore? Apparently he lived in Halmathan, long ago. I met his echo - I think that was what he called it - in Owzzer's gallery."

When Sid arrives she doesn't get up. In the past she would have had to. But the days of standoffs were behind her, thank Ehlonna. The beast was still willful, but fully devoted. She puts her free hand on his snout and rubs it. "Good boy. Down."

Once he's curled up around her she leans up against him and starts absentmindedly petting his head, as she looks back at the giant.

"Do you remember that elf and the human on the eyes? From when they did that tax raise. Steiner seems to think that elf and his friends are the key to saving this city. And he's asked me to help them, using this."

She flicks away the cigarette and takes the hair out of her pack. "He said not to use any divination magic on it, and that it had belonged to a dear friend. Apparently it can get me into contact with the Pixie that travels with the elf. Lysa Silentwhisper. He said to.. lick it. Oh and that this thick curl was only for emergencies. Do you have any idea what this is, at all?"

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You fly straight into the shaggy giant and this one laughs heartily as he returns the embrace.

"Owzzer? You gave that gallerist my brew? That's rich! It's an old recipe from my tribe. I'm surprised you can stomach it."

That's when sid, the Fleshraker, darts out of the woods and lowers his scaly head, adorned with muticolored feathers as you pat it in the snout.

Fleshrakers are terrifying predators and Sid is no exception. You could have siced Sid on the guards when they took away Lady silvarel, but who knows if your loyal scaly friend would've survived blades and bows…

Sock jumps out of the bag and looks at the spinning wheel, which causes the clay to flop on the side.

Elric grimaces.

"Should've paid more attention to dad…and did you mention steiner? Yeah. I knew a man by that name, but that was decades ago. A bard. They called him the Wandering Minstrel. Then, he just stopped coming to the park. He said it reminded him of home. And you met his…echo? And in the gallery? He once told me that he ran an old artist shoppe and that I should pose for him, but when the day came, he had to leave. something about some urgent matters elsewhere."

Then you mention the elf and man briadcast a week ago.

Elric nods.

"Damn machines. They pollute the skies with that black smoke. Good thing I can turn into an animal and hide when they decide to descend and search the woods. However, I do not recognize those names or faces. If Steiner knew them, though, and he gave the good word, I have no reason to disbelieve him… even as an echo."

Elric puts out his immense hand out as you place the golden locks of hair and he smells them.

"They carry the scent of roses…. but no, Olly- I have no idea what this hair can do. And did he say you had to lick it? And pixies… or at least one."

elric looks around at the woods.

"I remember when this place was filled with pixies. That was until fifteen years ago. Then, they all disappeared. Their songs and mischief forever gone from Glenndale Park. Unfair- they were here before the city was built. and now, the city has claimed them. If there is a pixie involved… perhaps she can bring the others back? It's a long stretch, but this forest sure could use the help of the fey…"

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia gives a respectful nod to Kyrich again as they go their separate ways. Time to go into the sewers...

"Yes. Hopefully we will find them soon," she says, wrinkling her nose. "This place is repulsive."

Her hands go to her swords the moment she hears the moan in the distance. She can't quite place where it's coming from, but she doesn't like the sound of it at all. She draws her scimitars and advances cautiously.

[Thokk_Smash]

I've been down here before--I always said my last time would really be my last. But you'd be surprised how useful braving this tragedy of a sewer system can be when you're running from someone.

The sound brings his hackles up. You mentioned Mithmironel said he was fighting invisible enemies, right? he asks, warily looking around. He incants a few arcane words, and his sight is gifted with the ability to see creatures invisible to the naked eye.

Cast See Invisibility, last 120 minutes

[Tyrann]

"Well yeah, I never said Owzzer could handle the brew. I left him in the toilet. Steiner liked it though.

Anyway, I should call it a night. Somehow I think I'll be casting a lot tomorrow.."

She gets on her toes to kiss the squatting giant on the cheek and heads off to her bedroll. "Good night Elric. Good luck with that pot."

She closes her eyes and asks Sock to keep watch, as usual. It takes her a while to fall asleep. There was just way too much information to process. Tomorrow she would use a strand the moment she woke up and choose what spells to prepare then. Still thinking about the things Lacore and Elric had said, she dozes off to dreams of fey and pixies.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia & Corwin: You begin to walk through the tunnels, filled with noxious scent and toxic green water.

That wail…a moan.

It didn't sound very close, but best be on guard.

That's when you watch some ripples in the toxic water, about fifty feet away…

Something stirs in the water or…


The tremendous pain! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qS8DWlbaRZM)

@Silvia: Something has lached on to you, nearly causing you to lose your balance and fall over towards the toxic pool.

Claws, jagged and sharp. They dig into your shoulders with brutal precision. Unseen.

12 damage

13 damage plus Imp. Grab DC 20

@Corwin: You watch Silvia grit her teeth as her blood drips on the stone sewer floor.

But why?

That's when you feel sharp claws rip at your shoulders and hold tight.

5 damage

10 damage plus imp. grab DC 28

And yet, that isn't all as both are sprayed with an acidic bile. Yellow in color.

12 acid damage. reflex for half

12 acid damage, reflex for half

Something unseen and deadly is killing you beneath the streets of Halmathan…

But what is it????

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107449)

Roll Initiative

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Elric laughs at the thought of Owzzer struggling in the toilet and lays down on the tall grass.

"You be careful now, Olly. Wherever it is you;re going, best take Sid with you. You're no newbie to the arts of Nature, but it always pays off to be prepared."

It takes a few minutes before Elric is snoring loudly as the ominous Eyes in the Sky dot the starry sky with their shapes and blkack smoke.

You light one last cigarette and lay against sid's flank as the fleshraker lays down and begins to snore as well, with sock mimicking your pose right beside you.

It takes awhile to get some sleep. a lot of new information in an otherwise unusual day.

Yet eventually, your lids grow heavy and you doze off, dreaming of a time when this park actually had a bounty of fey…

The next morning you wake up with a loud yawn as Elriccomes back from the fortest with a handful of fruits- mainly apples and berries and acorns- his favorite.

"Big day today, huh? Eat up. Can't start the day on an empty stomach.

You turn off your morning cig and sit on the tall grass as you shut your eyes and a gentle breeze blows through your mohawk as you rapprot with Nature…


Then, after almost an hour, you open your eyes and these give off a slight green glow.

You are ready.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You break free of this unseen attacker's grasp and perform some of your battle dance stances to avoid the worst from the noxious acidic bile.

You manage to stave off most of the pain, but you can't still see it!

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107459)


Round 1

Corwin
Novistador x ???
Silvia

[Tyrann]

Olly wakes up with a stone in her stomach. Even a few sips of Elric's liquor hadn't been easy on her bowels, or on her head for that matter. But that wasn't the only culprit here. There was something very ominous about using that hair and getting involved in all of this.

"Thanks El. Goodmorning. You're up early.. Did you sleep okay?"

She notices the berries and acorns. Maybe she should. Elric wouldn't like her taking the acorns, but if there ever was a right day for that spell..

"I'll eat in a bit, I gotta go.. do the thing. With the hair."

She takes the lock and sighs. "Well. Here we go." She takes a single strand, sits down and makes sure there are no rocks around for her to bump her head on should she lose consciousness. She also makes sure Elric is watching. And then, finally, with one eye open, she licks it.

[Thokk_Smash]

Silvia, what is it--argh!

The pain lances through his shoulders, setting him to stagger as he stares at the monstrosities assaulting them. What the hell are these things? These abominations? And what the f*** are they doing in his city?

With a sharp command in his mind, the metal bracelet around his ankle glows with a soft light. A split second later, he disappears and reappears ten feet back. He inspects the creatures with a sharp eye, comparing them with other abominations he's seen over the years in the city. Cutter's escapades come to mind especially, considering the madman's predilection for creating abominations, and he compares these creatures with what appeared a decade ago.

Finally, he raises a hand and incants an arcane phrase, like a recitation of a journal article. Instantly, a bright golden cloud fills the area near the creature assaulting Silvia, just barely missing the dancer herself. If one looked closely, they would see the cloud is comprised of thousands of tiny ink vials, spilling golden ink to drench anything in the burst.

Urban Savvy, Knowledge (Dungeoneering): [roll0] vs DC 15

Glitterdust aiming to just barely catch Silvia's attacker in the edge without hitting her. I'm assuming I can't hit both without hitting Silvia, but if I can I'll aim for that.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia cries out as the pincers sink into her, just barely wresting herself out of their grasp, only to be sprayed by two clouds of acid. I suppose these are those invisible creatures Mithmironal was dealing with earlier...

Fortunately for her, Corwin's spell outlines the creature nearest. Well, perhaps not so fortunate - the insectoid looked like something out of a nightmare, even just the outline of it. Still, it was enough for her to know where to swing.

Just a boring full attack; I don't want to launch into a Dervish dance just yet. Silvia will gain a +2 shield bonus to AC this round.

Attack 1: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit Confirm: [roll2]

Attack 2: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Crit Confirm: [roll5]

Attack 3: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
Crit Confirm: [roll8]

Attack 4: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]
Crit Confirm: [roll11]

Attack 5: [roll12]
Damage: [roll13]
Crit Confirm: [roll14]

Attack 6: [roll15]
Damage: [roll16]
Crit Confirm: [roll17]

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You clack your boots together and with yoru previous divination on, are more that relieved to escape the cluthches of this as yet unseen attacker.

Yet you wish you hadn't use the divination in the first place…


http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vMTc17gzlhQ/Umg9BzX-j0I/AAAAAAAAAco/bHrzr-SY5UU/s1600/Novistador+Invisible.png

What on Oerth are these things? They look like a chimeric mixture of insect and… anything else that mad man Cutter may have mixed into the batchh.

Evidentkly, these creatures favor camouflage- invisibility. They also like to spit gouts of acid at their prey and they can latch on to it with those claws.

They seem to favor attacking in pairs… maybe more.

But these two, stealthy as they are, should not be a problem.

Intoning a few words, you manifst a golden cloud of ink vials around the one attacking silvia- the risk of catching both might make the dancer blind, and you can already see one… and hopefully deal with him.

The creature with Silvia is doused in a splash of golden ink as it becomes outlined for both to see.

The spell has worked, if only partially- these creatures do not seem afceted at all by blindness.

@Silvia: Now you can see the horror this creature is- some cockroach- as big as a man.

The creature shrieks and latches into your body again.

The first claw rips into you.

9 damage

The second one does as well, attempting to hold you fast.

10 damage plus imp. grab DC 28

@Corwin: The other creature, not glittered but well within your sights, shrieks and buzzes its wings as it does a bee line for youm claws outstretched.

The first claw strikes hard.

7 damage

The second claw helps the first one latch on.

11 damage plus imp. grab DC 30

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107519)

Corwin
Novistador x ???
Silvia


@Olly: You take an apple from Elric as the genbtle giant sits on the tall grass, causing the immediate area to quake a little.

"Old dreams, Olly. But other than that, i'm fine. did you sleep well?"

With Sid standing several feet taller than you and Sock standing several feet lower, you look at one of the golden locks of hair and closing one eye, you give it a lick…

As far as hair goes, it doesn't taste bad. Which is weird enough. It almost tastes like berries and apricots…


That's when you get some form of vision…


It looks like a pixie, which you have read on and seen many illustrations in the library, but she looks blurred, in some … dungeon? Hard to tell, but what to do? Should you just speak out? Does she have any idea you are watching her?"

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: as you watch the creature head straight for you, you immediatly call forth multiple illusions of yourself, the better to confound this insect…

Yet to your horror, the creature's three blank eyes on its head rotate exactly to your true location.

As it latches onto your body, it is quite clear that illusions won't work on them.

Then, you watch Silvia struggling.

That glittering insect has her good.

But what exactly are them? How to best them.

They have a tough carapace, but not as strong as a wall of iron. Silvia should be able to strike rather well. They seem nimble enough, maybe even more so that Silvia. Their mental accuities- despite their insect-like nature seem rather well honed, but were a sharp mind and agile body succeed, maybe a weak health has been set to balance them out.

As for their combat abilities- you could deduce they are as strong as Silvia…maybe a bit less, but not by much.

[WhiteRobbit]

Well, that was... instructive.

The meeting over, Pyotr moves to leave. The name Kyrich doing circles in his mind. There is a lead here, a silver line that, if followed, will lead to truth and revolution.

If the evening hasn't had the shine worn off yet, I'll head to the Mercy, if not I'll head home and mull over things until tomorrow.

[Tyrann]

Wow, this was trippy. And somewhat remniscent of scrying.

Olly makes sure to get a good look at Lysa for scrying purposes. She might have to draw her afterwards. She also tries to get a look at the Pixie's surroundings.

Olly tries to reach out. First trying speak, in actual words. If that doesn't work she'll try thinking, as she does with Sock.

"Hello? Lysa? Can you hear me? Steiner Lacore gave me this hair and said to search for you. I am Olly. Could you describe the room you're in? I am a druid, and the quickest way for me to get to you is the Find the Path spell. I can track you from there."

[Still_I_Rise]

The creature lashes out again before Silvia has a chance to react, this time catching her in its pincers. She struggles to get free and be able to attack it in kind.

Full Attack, Grapple checks to escape:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
(use escape artist in place of normal check after first attack)

If any of those get me free, here are the attacks (saving crit confirmations for OOC if needed):

Attack 2: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]

Attack 3: [roll5]
Damage: [roll6]

Attack 4?: [roll7]
Damage: [roll8]

Attack 5: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]

Attack 6?: [roll11]
Damage: [roll12]

Attack 4 and 6, or really all five, might be eliminated depending on when/if the grapple breaks.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: No matter how hard you try, breaking free from this insect's grasp is an impossible task.

Perhaps… perhaps if there were more of you…

But that is a distant dream. To die. In a stinky sewer…

With Corwin!

Round 2

@Corwin: Kyrich failed to mention these creatures to you. He mentioned guards. Crazed guards. But that was in the now detsroyed Dragon's Flight…

What were these things? And how to get rid of them?

If something isn't done quick, Silvia might become a headline in the obituaries section in the Gazette.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107540)

Corwin
Novistador x ???
Silvia



@Pharis: You walk around, wary of the small chest placed conspicuously on the wooden floorboards.

Only the sound of the rocking ships outside, tied to the pier, can be heard amidst the low splash of the waves…

That's when a strange song can be heard, inside the warehouse... (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4VVYk7HJ9IU)

It has a distant sound to it. Alsmost as if it were from…

That's when your thoughts are interrupted as a cruel dagger digs deep into your ribs and is twisted inside for extra pain.

Worse yet, the burning sensation as your insides are incinerated, but something else…

Your magic is being… stolen. As if whoever did this feeds on it and by doing so, brings your arcane and divine soul tremendous harm.

7 damage plus 11 fire plus 11 magebane plus 6 SA, stolen spell: Resist Energy

You grit your teeth as a snicker can be heard a few feet away from you. Elven. Male.

Oh… did that hurt? My apologies. I wanted to make it quick and fast...

That's when a second blade thrust strikes you in the other flank, imbiung your insides with fire.

This is a female's voice.

Fast? No… I like to make them wait and suffer. Sexy...

5 damage plus 12 fire damage plus 11 SA and make a Will save or take 3 Wisdom damage

That's when the main entrance to the hnagar shuts itself with a grate and you see caotain Callais running away.

Someone sprung a trap on you, alright.

But these guys… they have no idea who they're messing with.

However, even if you could deal with them, how to see them?

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107541)

Roll initiative

[Thokk_Smash]

#%$&@*! Really, Corwin is quite frustrated with this turn of events, and so he doesn't mind swearing like a sailor off leave. When they get out of this, he'll be sure to grill Kyrich on these goddamned abominations.

Running through his options in his head, he realizes they're running rather low. Just a few ways to get both of them out alive, and none of them without risk...

Gritting his teeth, he focuses his mind and body and attempts to make himself ethereal--far out of reach of these monstrosities. All or nothing, Silvia thinks she can hear Corwin's voice say in her mind.

Concentration check: [roll0]

To his great relief, he finds himself slipping in-between two planes of existence. Not a new feeling, but one that threatens to send his body sagging in relief.

Floating away from the terrifying creature, he floats above Silvia and places a hand upon her. Intoning another arcane phrase, he infuses her body with a slipperiness unrivaled by any in the world. Those creatures won't be holding her down anymore.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You lick the lock of hair and it is indeed trippy, to say the least.

Whatever Steiner gave you the day prior is no ordinary hair… who could it belong to?

Then, you see the pixie.

She wears a multitude of veils and an elegant and exotic velvet dress, with beautiful gossamer wings, but her back is turned to you as she lowers her head.

Is this supposed to work this way? maybe Steiner had the lock trapped in that painting for too long…

@Pyotr: Bishop watches you leave Cassandra's.

Clover is nowehere in sight and at one moment, one of those giant searchlights from Connor's Eye's in the Sky capture you in the sidewalk.

Citizen! You are walking the streets past curfew hours! This is your first and final warning. return to your home or place of Hospice at once!

The Eye in the Sky follows you for a few blocks as you curse inwardly and then, the light moves away as the machine ascends into the night sky.

Thankfully, it doesn't trail you to your apartment… and your press lab.

That evening, you toss and stir in bed.

Was Clover to be trusted?

Does she really believe in the Revolution?

Is she one of Connors spies in disguise?

This and many other thoughts swirl through your mind as your eyelids grow heavy and slumber takes over….

The next day, you let Hans manage the presses. he is after all, under your pay- meager as it may be, and the guy does share your contempt for The Grand Inquisitor.

And to date, your press has not been smoked out.

Hailing a cab in the crowded streets, you head for the mercy.

You have spent many evening at The Bitter Coffee. Composed a lot of manifestos and poems against Connor, which received thunderous applause.

But today, you aren't here to give rousing speeches.

You're here to find a lead. A man that will change the face of this Revolution!

The Bitter Coffee is slightly empty as nana Rose, the bartender, winks and waves at you.

Elder Nana Rose is not one to be favorable against Connor, but being an elderly woman, she isn't one to stand in procession marches.

However, she does make a mean cup of coffee.

The short elderly woman cleans a mug from the night prior and smiles.

"Mister Marat, Halmathan's Fiery Spirit. May I get you anything?"

@Corwin: You will not die down here. That's a definite.

That illumian may have tricked you.

Maybe he works for Connor as an agent in The Mercy.

Those questions will have to wait.

Now, you must save Silvia!

Shutting your eyes, you transmute your body into that of a phantom as your ethereal self swims thriough the toxic environment, past the hideous mutant and tap Silvia in the head, imbuing her with the chance. That once chance, to fight back unimpeded.

@Silvia: Who knows how it happened, but your body feels fluid, like the Great River Thamselis back in the lands of Al'Akkbar.

Whatever hold these creatures may have on you… now they don't have it.

Time to show these beasts how to really dance…


Unfortunately, they have proven to be quite fast as the one fighting you swipes twice at you…

And a brutal claw sipe it is!

26 damage

The second claw goes through as well. Not as deadly, but your view is getting hazy…

10 damage

@Corwin: The other beast, still invisible, flies past Silvia and its comrade and begins to emit a disturbing shriek that echoes through the tunnels.

Beyond, you can hear dozens more in respond.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107551)

Corwin
Novistador x ???
Silvia

[Still_I_Rise]

SH**

Mentally cursing, Silvia suddenly finds herself free. Corwin must have gotten a spell off. It was time to take this beast down. She launches into a fluid dance around the creature, leaping and dodging to avoid its grasping claws.

Activate Dervish Dance; moving around the creature and attacking once every few squares of movement. She takes 10 on Tumble to avoid the AoO, and the first attack gets a +4 from acrobatic strike.

+2 shield and +2 dodge to AC for this round, if it will matter... I don't have much hp left and these things don't seem to miss. Ever.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[roll4]
[roll5]

[roll6]
[roll7]

[roll8]
[roll9]

[roll10]
[roll11]

Crit confirmations will be rolled OOC as needed.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: It is true that, when pushed to the brink, a warrior's true spirit comes through…

And this is no exception.

Whatever this thing is, it will not live to see another day.

Time for The Eastern Star to rise!

Brabndishing scimitar and blade alike, you begin one of the sacred dances of the Hasshashin, the Sultanate's Elite Order of Warriors, dispatched to deal with threats to the empire.

This chitinous beast tries to follow you around as you disappear for a few moments and reappear the next, shutting your eyes as a shriek of pain can be heard from the creature and one of his claws is neatly sliced as it drops on the ground, sputtering green blood.

The beast turns around and tries to claw you as your quick reflexes raise your second blade and slice upward and you tumble over the beast, landing a mere feet away from him.

The insect shrieks loudly as three magnificent cuts form on its hide and a spray of green blood showers above you and you turn a three quarters face at it and smile as you launch both blades up in the air and kick the creature to the ground.

Before this one has a chance to get up, both blades land on your hands and these fly towards the beast, impaling him against the stone ground through the chest.

The creature gurgles green froth from its mandibles as it twitches its legs and flutters it wings before shrieking one last time and moving no more.

You pull off both swords, drenched in sweat and blood- both yours and him.

@Corwin & Silvia: That's when dozens of more shrieks can be heard from the tunnels as you, Corwin, watch the still invisible nightmare shrieking and pointing at both of you.

Silvia has dealt with one in a matter of seconds. True to her training and skill…

But against a horde of these things? What to do…

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107559)

Round 3

Corwin
Novistador x ???
Silvia

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You hold on to the lock of hair and are about to take out a cig when the pixie in your mind turns its face almost to look at you and the vision blurs out….

However, her voice, filled with sorrow, can be heard in your mind loud and clear:

I dont know you Olly, but advice strongly that this place should be avoided: its pretty dangerous down here. I'm actually in a room filled with cages that hold... Charred bodies now. There is a lever in the wall and a single door out. If you come be aware from invisible predators and against acid.

Maybe you can continue speaking to her, but the tone in the pixie's voice and what she had described…

Charred bodies.

Acid.

Danger…

Elric looks at you as he sits on the tall grass and stuffs a mouthful of apples.

"What's wrong, Olly? You look pale."

[Thokk_Smash]

The damn thing's a tattletale, Corwin mutters, eyeing the monstrosity warily. He could light it up for Silvia, and she could easily take it out; that was quite the impressive display of acrobatics and brutality she'd just displayed.

However, neither Halmathan citizen is looking good. Silvia has cuts up and down her body, and he's sure that he looks pretty bad, too.

Those who fight and run away and all that, right? He reaches a hand toward her, incanting and giving his hand a sharp twist. From the outside looking in, Silvia becomes ethereal as thousands of ephemeral quills scribble her body into intangibility.

Nodding at her and pointing up, Corwin wills his body to fly up and through the ground to reach the surface. The sight and warmth of the sun forces a sigh of relief from the reporter.

Looking up to check if an Eye in the Sky is watching, doubtful yet possible, he takes out his healing wand and proceeds to patch himself and Silvia up. He spends most on himself, and uses the last two charges for Silvia.

UMD vs DC 20: [roll0]
Second check if first fails: [roll1]

Use "Magic Device Attunement" to make it so I don't have to use UMD for the CLW wand until I change it.

[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]
[roll10]
[roll11]

Spend a minute healing and we'll see where we're at HP-wise.

[Tyrann]

"Oh, you can hear me. That's good. I was worried I would only get a few words, or none at all. It's nice to meet you Lysa, and it is my honor to be talking a living fey. Are you alright? You sound troubled.

To clarify who I am and why I am contacting you: I am a druid from Glenndale park. Last night I met something like a memory or an echo of Steiner Lacore in Owzzer's gallery. He gave me 4 locks of hair that smell like roses, and told me to lick a strand to contact you. He told me you would know what to do with those.

Look, I'm not really sure what's going on anymore. Steiner told me a lot, but most of it was cryptic. But he said you need my help, and that Connor isn't the only or even the biggest threat in this city. I don't know why, but I believe him.

So I want to help you. I had hoped to catch you before you went anyway, and you're right, that does sound bad. But I'd be willing to see how far I can get. Something about Steiner made me feel like all of this was urgent. Where are you exactly? For my spell to work I need to know the location. And maybe the purpose of the room.

Oh and Lysa, it really is my honor to meet you, and I am sorry about the circumstances. Do you have any idea how long this bond will last?"

She looks up that the giant.

"Do I? I don't know. I think I got telepathically linked or something. But she's very sad. And not in a good place. At all."

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia dispatches the beetle with a grin, turning to face the general vicinity of the one that had attacked Corwin. She blinks as her body takes on an ethereal form, looking up as Corwin passes through the roof and nodding, she passes up herself.

She breathes a sigh of relief as they reach topside again. From the sound of it, there was no way they could have dealt with all of those things.

"Thanks," she says as Corwin's wand patches up the worst of her wounds. Well, at least the bleeding had stopped... she still wasn't looking to good for the wear. Just to be on the safe side, she pulls out one of her potions and drinks it.

"I'm not quite ready to go back down there," she admits grudgingly. "Maybe we should stop off at the Kordite Temple, and see if they can offer us any more in the way of healing... or see if we can find anyone to assist us down there."

[roll0]

EDIT: Only at 44hp... some more rest may need to be in order before we go back down there.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin does his best to mop up the blood staining his clothes, which have been partially melted by the acid anyway. Releasing a breath of frustration, he says, If we're going back into the city, then you'll need to put your cloak all the way over yourself. I can alter my appearance to hide the bloodstains, but to do the same for you would be more powerful magic that I'd rather not use right now. I'd rather not be questioned by an uptight Cuthbertine priest about why we look so bad. However, I think we should go to the Pelorian temple. That rat bastard of Connor's, Dalphinian, noticed you a bit too much this morning; if he notices you going to the same temple twice in one day, he might get more suspicious than we want him to. Call me overcautious. Father Jace will be just as accommodating as Father Bhagazzin.

And I know a druid who may be willing to help us--she lives in the Mercy, knows the place almost as well as I do. Once we get you patched up I can Send to her.

And maybe we should have another chat with our dear friend Kyrich, to see if he knows anything about these abominations.

Either way, healing comes first. C'mon, let's go.

Motioning to her, he helps get her cloak settled around her to hide her multiple cuts and acid-marks. With a few words, he casts a spell to make his appearance seem totally normal. Then, they head out of the Mercy and hail a cab. After directing the driver to make haste for the Pelorian temple, Corwin spends the drive over writing all he can remember about those creatures into a notebook.

Disguise Self to appear as if no bloodstains or cuts were on Corwin.

[Still_I_Rise]

"Sounds good," Silvia says, arranging her cloak around her self and drawing up the hood.

"Do you trust Father Jace with the details of our story, or do you have something else in mind to tell him?"

[Chimaera]

"I sure can hear you... And sure can talk, dont you? As for where I am I would prefer not to enter in more details than I already did, but since you need it: it's somewhere in the sewers, used by a mad woman wizard called Alexia as a lab for bizarre experiments. The place is filled with cages that once held pixies and dryads from the park as guinea pigs. The pixies were turned into insect-like predators capable of invisibility and the dryads were decerebrated for some lesser role".

"The cages now have only charred fey dust, as they asked me to put an end tl their suffering, so please excuse me if I arent in the best of the moods".

"Where are you? Are you in the sewers? Should we wait for you? And more importabtly, whats your favorite color? I have no ideahow lonfthe telepathy will work, but let me updated, please".

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia & Corwin: Whatever attacked you down in the sewers was nasty.

Nastier than anything you have encountered so far.

True, Silvia had been able to dispatch one within seconds, but an entire horde of those things. Invisible. Flying down there?

A two man job would be suicidal.

Corwin takes out a wand and runs his hand through it, pressing his index finger on a section of the wand as this one wafts the scent of apricots and Silvia's wounds are healed- scratches and burn marks.

Not completely, of course, but better than limping blood all the way back to the city.

Corwin then helps you hide your war wounds under your cloak as he shuts his eyes and calls forth an illusion to disguise himself.

For all intents and purposes, Corwin just left his home aftre a nice hot shower.

It takes almost an hour to reach the inhabited place in The Mercy.

The options here are several:

You could berate Githslayer Kyrich on not giving you the right information. It is his right to do so, after all. For the scoop.

You could mend your wounds a lot more at the Pelorite Temple. You may not be a religious duo, but Highfather Jace Abaidas is said to be a very pious man. He even carries the title of Exalted, which has forbidden Connor from stamping his temple as he has done with the Olidammarans and Kordites.

Yet there is one other person in the Mercy….

A young street artist, one who has "defiled" the walls of the Mercy and the City with what Connor has decsribed as "vile imagery".

Truth is, this artist is not only one of Halmathan's most promising talents in the art community, but she is also a druid. This is well known because you have seen her at druid protests outside Glenndale park, when Connor attempted to sut the whole place down.

But where to find this girl?

You decide to leave the Wall of Separation and enter Halmathan proper…


The Eyes in the Sky can be seen overhead- more and more dot the skies every day. How is this man mass producing them at such an alarmingly fast rate?

You hail a carriage, making sure Silvia is well covered by her cloak and ask to go to the Temple District.

Between the walk back to the Mercy and the cab ride, it takes over an hour as the illusion begins to wear off and the carriage passes through the golden gates to the district.

This is where the richest families reside in Halmathan. Tghis is also where the Temple to Muoquol, Pelor, Heironeous, and Cuthbert have stood for ages.

Of course, the church of Cuthbert is now called the Palace of Justice, which makes no sense as there is only one palace here, but that is inaccessible to the public- The Royal Palace, home to King Airdan.

You step out of the carriage and look at the enormous white stone temple, with angel statues and cherry blossom trees dotting the courtyard.

this temple is at least five hundred feet tall, with a giant Eye of God window in the center and a humble white picket fence surrounding its large perimeter.

The gate is, of course, open and you spot a wooden sign post on the side.


Sanctuary is to be offered to all who ask for it

A few benches have been laved under the cherry trees as a young priest in white robes and, by the looks of it, no more than twenty, walks up to you and bows.

'Welcome to the House of the Shining One, brother and sister. I am neophyte Gaden and… by the gods! what happened????"

That's when Corwin's illusion dissipates, revealing his many cuts and burn marks.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin considers Highfather Jace as they walk. If I'd trust any high priest with our information, it'd be Highfather Jace. He's not bound by personal honor to obey stuffy laws and the Grand Poobah like Randolph. On the other hand, he isn't likely to fly off the handle and insult Connor, possibly getting hauled off to St Noria's like Father Bhagazzin. And most importantly, he cares about the people of the city--even the Mercy. They helped push for St Mary's Hope's Caress to be built; I spent some time in the orphanage they funded as a child. If anyone wants what's best for this city, it's Father Jace and his Pelorites. I'm sure of it.

And the druid...Olly, he thinks? Her face is memorable, both from afar and close up. He likes her, from what little interactions they've had: stubborn, independent, and creative. Poor girl doesn't have much of a poker face, though. Maybe she'll help if he says he'll ignore some of the coin she owes him...

The drive through the city is annoyingly slow, but it cannot be helped. The Pelorite temple has an unfortunate geographical location, in that it's within spitting distance of that damned Cuthbertine temple. "Palace of Justice" Corwin's left buttcheek; "Palace of Oppression", or "Fortress of Fascism" is more like it. Corwin thinks he might've remembered that last bit from one of Pyotr's pamphlets, though he can't be sure.

Finally, they reach the Pelorite temple and dismount. Corwin smiles at the approaching acolyte, although he wants to grimace when it becomes clear his illusion has run its course. Still, his smile only broadens as he waves his hand. Nothing to be overly concerned with, my boy. My friend and I were poking around in the Mercy; y'know, one of those new gangs that pop up every so often. We may have been found out, and you would be surprised by the kinds of pets gangs have these days. We got a bit banged up, and could use some healing.

Also, would it be possible to speak with Highfather Jace? I have some news I'd like to give him. Tell him Corwin Knell is asking for him.

Bluff check: [roll0]

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin & Silvia: neophyte Gaden looks at your mangled condition and raises an eyebrow.

"Pets in the Mercy, huh? Ok… follow me, please."

The church's interior is grand, with dozens of long wooden pews and an ornate white altar with a gigantic Solar Disc- the symbol of Pelor, which reflects light inside as many priests and commoners alike kneel at the pews in silent prayer.

Neophyte Gade stops in his tracks and looks at both.

"This way, please."

You are both lead to a smaller room with a long table filled with plates bursting with fruits and pitchers filled with fresh water and others with orange juice.

At the head of the table sits Father Jace the Exalted.

You have seen Jace before, but never up close. The Gazette rarely had news to report about the church of Pelor. When Connor took over, Victoria attempted to get a statement from Jace, but the Highfather kindly declined the offer, for fear of Connor using his words against his own flock.

The man stands six feet tall, like Githslayer Kyrich, but unlike the illumine, Highfather wears a white breastplate with golden sun motifs.

His hair is short and blonde. Hios skin coppery. His eyes blue, with golden irises. A dim halo can be observed over his head, yet for all these details, it is the magnificent pair of white feather wings that sprout from his back that amke this head of church so different from the others.

"Highfather, I am sorry to interrupt your meal, but this gentleman and lady wish to speak to you."

Gaden bows and leaves the room as Highfather Jace walks up to both and shakes your hands.

A warm touch. a firm grip.

"welcome to the House of the Shining One. I do not believe we are acquainted, sir. Miss Silvia Tauber- I have seen your performances at the Royal Theatre. I am big fan. Are you hungry? Please, take a seat."

[Still_I_Rise]

"Thank you, Father Jace," Silvia says with a slight bow. "I didn't realize my performances were the type to attract holy men, but I'm very glad you enjoyed them.

However, I'm afraid neither one if us in the best shape for eating right, as much as I'd love to accept," she says, drawing back her cloak to reveal the cuts and scrapes that still run down her body.

"We came here to ask for healing."

[Thokk_Smash]

The name's Corwin Knell, on-again off-again reporter for the Halmathan Gazette and former resident of St. Mary's.

Like Silvia said, we're rather in desperate need of healing. Her more than me. And I'd like to speak with you about a situation that concerns both the Mercy and the city itself.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: Highfather takes a seat again and gestures for you to do so as well.

"You like tired, Miss Tauber. Even if you are not hungry, your body seems to require a place to rest. As for your performances? I am a man of the cloth, but I am also an admirer of the Fine Arts. It's a pity the Theatre has lost much of its former glory.

@Corwin: Highfather Jace leans back on his cahir as he listens to your introduction.

"The church financed the construction of St. Mar's Home. Then, there was the fire… not a day goes by that I am not wracked in pain thinking of the many losses incurred that night. As for being a reporter for the Gazette, I told Miss Glasz I would not be giving an official testimony. I hope you understand."

Then, the half celestial leans forward and sighs.

"Your bodis are hurt and, of course, you have come to the right place- The Church of the Shining One does offer heal and succor to all in need. However, given the latest tax raises put by His Grace, I am awfully ashamed to have to ask for a donation. Recently, as you may be aware, Mister Corwin, there was a massive exodus into the church, caused by yet another raise in taxes. We were barely able to feed all those that found themselves homeless, but now, the church is in need of financial help. We can give you and Miss Tauber aid with bodily harm, but as stated before, I must ask for a donation."

However, at the last mention of your introduction, Jace raises an eyebrow.

"A situation? And one that concerns the Mercy and the City? Please, elaborate."

[Thokk_Smash]

I understand, Father. Your ear is all that I ask for right now.

Corwin blinks at the mention of a donation. I've no problem, but I haven't much money on me. He reaches into his pouch and takes out eighty gold pieces.

As for the situation...it's what brought us here for healing to begin with. There are monstrous abominations infesting the sewers underneath the Mercy. They are as large as a large dwarf or small human, constantly invisible, strong enough to latch onto a fighter as powerful as Silvia without her being able to shake it off, and only two of them were able to take us by surprise and nearly kill us.

Mostly, though, they are frighteningly reminiscent of that madman Cutter's creations from a decade ago. I know there are rumors going about that he's back, but now I've seen the monstrosities with my own eyes. Either Cutter is alive, or someone has renewed his dastardly work.

But it's what brought us to the sewers in the first place that concerns the City as well. Like you said you couldn't give a statement, please don't spread what I'm about to tell you to others without careful consideration.

There was a jailbreak from St. Noria's a few weeks back; did you hear of it? I met the person who broke out, an Illumian hiding in the Mercy. He told me thus: his company of soldiers accidentally teleported into St Noria's when they were escaping from a githyanki assault in the Plane of Shadow. He and his comrades were immediately taken prisoner--no trial, no investigation, no nothing. They were imprisoned in St. Noria's, tortured, and forced to work hard labor--building a gigantic stone leg and foot, for some reason.

It was a miracle that he could get them out, but he could only get most of them out: three of his comrades still remain, to be tortured or forced to work until they die. And his comrades are not the only prisoners that this is being done to. Which is why you can't tell just anyone about this--if word gets out, the Illumian fears that his comrades will be punished for it.

I'm not sure what you can do with this information. But this injustice is happening in our city, Father; something needs to be done about it, and I thought you might know someway to help.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You grit your teeth and watch the only door to the warehouse shut.

Your highly trained mind is able to withstand the mental slash…

But that wasn't magical. whoever struck you, did not use any spell you are aware of.

In the dim lights of this warehopuse, assaulted by unseen assassins…

How to deal with them?

Round 1

Whoever these guys are, they are fast…

A series of blades stick in your right flank. Each carrying fire and arcane poison.

Once more, your spells feel stolen.

4 damage plus 11 fire damage plus 6 magebane plus 5 SA, Stolen Spell: Greater Invisibility

By sheer luck, you manage to weave adn dodge an invisible attack, trusting your reflexes, trained at the Zodiac Monastery…

However, a third thrust by this unseen bastard hits you good.

4 damage plus 16 fire plus 8 magebane plus 10 SA, Spell Effect Stolen: Greater Mage Armor

You feel one of your arcane protections carved out of you as the male elven voice snickers.

It's like an all you can eat buffet, this guy!

That's when another single blade strikes at your left flank.

This one seeks to not numb your senses, but make your body physically weak.

8 damage plus 11 fire plus 6 SA plus Fortitude Save or take 2 Con damage

You're getting too eager with your daggers. You need to take it slow…hurts more that way.

The female's voice can be heard way too cose for comfort as a swoosh ij the air and a light thud on the crates twenty feet above is all that can be heard.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107619)

Aramian

Sasha

Pharis


@Corwin & Silvia: Highfather Jace looks at the eighty shiny gold coins on the table and forces a smile.

"I wish I could help, Mister Corwin, Miss Tauber, but at my level of expertise, and with Connor's tax… I'm afraid that won't be enough. However…"

Jace shuts his eyes for a few seconds and neophyte Gaden comes in.

"You called, Highfather?"

"Brother Gaden, these two fine folk require healing assistance. They have the funds. Please proceed."

Assuming you take the money, Gaden begins first with Silvia's wounds.

7 hp

7 hp

2 hp

Then, Gaden places his hand on Corwin's shoulder and intones a few words in Celestial.

7 hp

8 hp

Gaden then excuses himself with the money and you narrate the events that have brought you to the Pelorite Temple.

Jace listens to your story with a furrowed brow.

"I was aware that certain creatures- in some cases, brigands- make a living underneath the streets of Halmathan. I was not aware of the creatures you have described. I am aware of Cutter's supposed reemergence, so he may be connected to this."

Then, you tell Jace about the Illumian's experience in St. Noria's- the torture, the forced labor. No trial. The giant foot and leg….

Jace goes pale as you recount these events.

"Are you certain about this? St. Noria's has not been a place worthy of tourist attraction. there is a reason why the Founders of this City built it outside Halmathan's wall, but for years, the Castello has been relatively empty. Smaller jail cells exist here, for minor crimes, but Connor has decided to swell St. Noria. regardless of the felony committed…. this is most troublesome, young man…"

Jace gets up and walks towards the window, his back turned to both.

"A little over a week ago, I and father Bhagazzin conferred with His Grace, regardless some… information. There were two others with us- a phaulkonite by the name of Tonel Carth and an elven wizard, Archaidous Mithmironel. I used the Right of Sponsorhip to give Archaidous a certain amount of… clout. if you will. Connor assigned both to investigate the disappearance of a friend of theirs…and to an extent, a friend of this church: Father Alexander Anderson. Ever since that meeting, they have not reported back. If you can find them, maybe they can shed more light into this matter."

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia nods and takes a seat, content to let Corwin do most of the talking.

"I can help with the donation,"[/I] she says, pulling out another 80 gold herself. "I need this more than Corwin, anyway."

"Speaking of Mithmironel," she says, then hesitates. "I was sent to meet him by Fyrune Dalast, a friend of mine in Runestone... I don't know if you're acquainted. But what she really wanted was for me to find someone else. Several someones; notable fey who used to take residence in the park. Their names were Clementia, Eldin, and Maraphas.

Do you know anything about them?"

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: The cuts come in as the music keps playing and then your eyes begin to look blurry as your inviisble attackers begin to materialize as they stand over your body.

One is an elf, with a red mohawk and a white stripe, he carries a pair of daggers.

The other is a crimson haired woman with light armor and a pair of kukris.

Both look at you as the music stops and the woman lands next to you and pokes you with her foot.

I heard he was a challenge… bah!

The elf walks over you and you feel your body being dragged across the warehouse.

You know Sarjon… loves to exaggerate. Anyway. We're done here. Pizza later?

Yeah!

The last thing you hear is a splash as your body is dropped off the pier.

And then, darkness…

Who knows how long time goes by…


You open your eyes lazily and find yourself bandaged from head to toe. The bed you;re in is cozy and this appears to be a boat.

A blonde woman, elderly, wearing a black leather armor and deep purple cloak taps a potion.

"Catch of the night… how are you feeling?"

@Silvia: Not one to be bested by Corwin, you stop neophyte Gaden and place another eighty golden coins on the table.

Jace nods at the neophyte as this one places his hand on your shoulder.

"These are the last i have, miss. I hpe they help you."

28hp total

Then, you question Highfather Jace about Fyrune Dalast.

"Headmistress of Enchantments? Yes, I do know her. I am a half celestial and she is an aasimar, so we are, in a way, bonded by kin. Although she chose to pursue the arcane path rather than the divine. A pity she is trapped in Runestone now. Connor considers her a threat. His views on Enchantment are that they are evil… well, for him, all magic is evil- except when he authorizes it, of course."

Regarding the missing fey, Highfather takes a seat again.

"Clementia, eldin, and Maraphas…. I met them. Once, but not through Mistress Dalast, but because of Lady Silvarel, who enjoyed their company very much. Fey are largely unknown to me. In a way, we could say they are the angels of earth, being creatures who spring naturally here, much like outsiders in the Heavens. Those three were said to be the very first fey to spring to life in Glenndale Park. they are very old. and very wise. However, fifteen years ago, they diapered. Who knows where they might be."

[Tyrann]

Okay. A laboratory in the sewers. That might be enough for the spell.

"I am so sorry for your loss. There's no need to wait for me, I'm in the park now but I'll be there as soon as I can. I should be able to track you if I can find the room."

Olly finishes preparing her spells, the calls Sid and casts Aspect of the Wolf on him which causes him to get on all fours and slowly shrink into the form of a wolf, the hair appearing last. He whines softly in protest - he hated this spell. But it was the only way she could take him across town.

Then she takes a couple of small avian bones out of her haversack, and rolls them out before her as her eyes start to glow. She casts Find the Path, looking for the laboratory in the sewers of Halmathan.

She slings the pack over her shoulder and calls Sock as she walks over to an old oak tree. Rules be damned today, she was going to the mercy anyway. She casts Tree Stride and puts her hand on the tree. "Come Sid. Wish me luck, Elric."

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Lysa's voice gives you a final warning:

Do not fight the Devil in Chains, Olly… no matter what. See you soon.

You then whistle to Sid and it takes the fleshraker a few minutes to dart out from some underbrush, ready to leap on you as you give him the stare dow and the giant raptor halts in its tracks as you pet his feathreed mohawk and intone the ancient words of power.

Sid the Raker suffers a radical transfomation as his body reduces in size and snarls and howls as fur replaces scales.

By the time the spell is complete, you have a beautiful black wolf with a rainbow colored mohawk for hair.

Then, you kneel on the ground and place your hand on the tall grass as a gentle breeze blows your mohawk east and you see what look like footprints on the grass, which begin to dissipate.

Sid turns his head to the side and whines in confusion.

Then, you spot Sock, jumping up and down against a large oak tree and walk with Sid towards him as you pat your shoulder and the bogun climbs your body and sits on your right shoulder.

Elric gets up and looks at you with a serious stare.

"Whatever you find, Olly, trust what you have learned. Good luck."

With Sid by your side, you smile back at Elric and begin traveling through trees.

You have done this before, especially when you first learned the trick- the ability to glide between trees, almost like a fish in water. Someone even said it wa slike that spell wizards use- tel;sport, but this feeling is different.

It's almost like every tree you go into has a tale to tell. Whispers. Laughter. sadness…


And then, you exit the last tree in Glenndale Park, with Sid by your side, as a wolf.

Sock hops into your bag and you light a cig….

No trees from here to the Mercy., and the path leads to a sewer there.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia & Corwin: Jace thinks about eveything that has been told to him.

"Archaidous not only represents Runestone Academy, which he enrolled awhile back, but he also represents the Church of Pelor. Finding him and getting him back here alive to present facts and testimnoy is paramount…."

The half celestial gets up and looks at both.

"I can Send for someone if you require assistance. Maybe they can meet you wherever your lead is? Being in the church should arise no wrath from His Grace."

[Tyrann]

Slightly bummed out that she couldn't sense any trees at all on the way to the mercy (the spell's range was 3000 feet after all, you'd think people would have gardens) Olly resigns to hail a cab. It wasn't as fast as using trees, but at least it beat walking.

She hopes a cab will be willing to take her with transformed Sid in tow. Just in case, she'd best keep moving. That transformation wouldn't last forever.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin tallies up the spells cast and the coin given. Sixteen gold for the lowest useful healing spell? Might be better to buy another wand...

Out loud, he says, Thank you, and I wish I could spare more coin. If it wouldn't cost anymore, then I would love if you could contact an Olly...Bellard, I believe is her first name. A young druid from the park, participated in more than one rally. Tell her Corwin Knell will ignore some of her debt if she agrees.

While he does so, Corwin whispers to Silvia, I think I remember a divine spell that is similar to what was cast on us, but is more efficient. I can sell some of my items to get it, and then we can return to the investigation if you want.

Plan to sell Memento Magica and Eternal Wand of Feather Fall for a total of 580. We'll need 1,125 gold for the Wand of Lesser Vigor, at least for a fully charged wand.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You finish your smoke and and look at Sid, who hunches next to you.

Hopefully, the guard would not identify him as a wolf- Connor would most likely classify that as a beast.

You step half way in the street and raise your hand, hailing a cab as a coachman pulls his horse to a stop.

"Are you mad, lady? Could've ran you over!!! You know there are sidewalks, right?"

That's when the back of your mind hets a tingling sensation.

Olly Bellard. It is Highfather Jace. I am with a Corwin Knell, he wishes to meet with you. Please respond.

@Corwin: jace opens his eyes after deep concentration.

"I am awaiting your friend's response. As for any items you wish to sell, you are more than welcome to. I can inspect them here. I must warn you that, given the new laws, you might not get as much money in return. I am sorry."

[Thokk_Smash]

Oh, it's these; with the taxes, I'm afraid I might not be able to pay for it, though...

Corwin hands him the scroll that is the Memento Magica, designed to renew spent spell energy; and his Eternal Wand of Feather Fall, designed to keep him from being paste on the ground. So he'll just try to avoid heights.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Jace accepts both items and digs into his pouch and takes out the coin.

Before Connor came to power, you would've had a lot more money in return, but because of the King's campaign, sacrifices must be made.

"You beleive this…. Olly Bellard will be able to help you find Srchaidous?"

[Tyrann]

Damn it, this was the last thing she needed right now. That snoop asking for his coin back. Through a cleric no less. Worst. Timing. Ever.

Or was it? Thinking back to what Steiner had said about providence, she sighs and thinks of something to send back. Corwen found people for a living after all, and he was no fan of Connor. Maybe he would help.

"Am a bit busy Highfather. Will swing by the temple but can't stay long. Taking a cab from the park now."

Then she looks at the cab driver and smiles at him nonchalantly. "Yeah, sorry. I don't come here much on foot. Care to take me to the temple of Pelor?"

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin looks at the relatively paltry amount, and sighs before pocketing it. The "King's Campaign" can go shove off as far as he cares.

I believe so; she's grown up in the Mercy, so she knows her way around. And she can handle herself: I can tell that just by looking at her. Not to mention she can turn into any number of quite lethal animals, so she should be quite invaluable in fighting those monstrosities in the sewers. If nothing else, she will help us stay alive until we can find Mithmironel, since we already know the general direction he went in.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: The coachman raises an eyebrow.

"The Pelorite Temple, eh? Is that the right kind of look for a lady to have in the temple? Get in, then…"

However, as the coachman opens the door, Sid follows diligently.

"Whoa..whoa! That thing's not going to, you know… soil the seats, right? It's trained?"

Witha wary eye, the Coachman takes you all the way to the Royal district.

You have been here, maybe once. Tried spray painting Connor's Temple, but had to make a run for it when Dalpinian caught you in the act as you flew overhead.

I saw your face, you punk! I'll have you sent to a cage where you belong!!!

Howveer, as the carriage stops at the Pelorite temple, it isn't as bad, with the cherry blossom trees in full bloom and a bunch of young priests and priestesses.

One in particular approaches you and bows.

"Miss Bellard? Highfather Jace wishes to see you."

@Corwin & Silvia: Highfather listens to Olly's description and nods.

"So she is a druid? She must belong to Lady Silvarel's flock. If there are abominations below the sewers, Miss bellard may be able to…"

However, Jace's words are interrupted when Olly steps in.

@Olly: Corwin Knell. Reporter. Gambler. Connor hater.

Silvia tauber. Masterdul dancer. Loves to fly as much as you. If only she'd go druid.

Then there's Highfather Jace with his enormous white wings and golden glow. An angel perhaps?

You smile and allow Sid to come in as Highfather pets him and Sid lowers his head.

"Your companion? Welcome to the House of Pelor, Olly Bellard. Miss tauber and Mister Knell would like to have a word with you."

[Still_I_Rise]

"Thank you," Silvia says in response to the healing. She still wasn't in peak condition, but the worst of her wounds were gone. What was left would heal up on its own in a few days, if they had that kind of time. Unfortunately, they didn't...

"That seems to be in order," Silvia whispers back to Corwin.

She blinks as Olly steps in. It was the girl who'd shown her around on the back of a giant bat. A pleasant memory, to be sure... she really should have placed the name before now.

"Well, nice to see you again, Olly," she says, "although these are considerably more unpleasant circumstances."

"We're in search of Tonel Carth and Archaidous Mithmironel, among others. Or rather, we know more or less where they are... but we need help getting there." She pauses to let Corwin speak. After all, she wasn't really in a place to make this request of Olly, while it seemed he might be.

[Tyrann]

Olly laughs. She wonders what the coachman would have said if he knew what Sid really was. She jokes "Only if you take too long. He's housebroken but he's got a weak bladder. So do I by the way." and winks. "Up Sid. Let's go."

Once they arrive at the Pelorite Temple she follows the welcoming cleric with a nod. She didn't even light a cigarette - she was in a hurry.

A girl in ripped jeans, combat boots, a studded black leather belt that wrapped twice around her waist, and a short black leather jacket walks in, clearly in a hurry and clearly oblivious to the air of reverence that surrounded the temple.
When she spots Silvia she gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey dear. New boyfriend? Can't say I approve." Then she turns to Corwin and says "Hey there liar. I'm not sure why I'm here, but I'm on my way to find Lysa Silentwhisper and Mithmironel myself, and I have spells running to help me, so I'd appreciate it if we could talk on the way."

Then she looks at Sid bowing his head to the Highfather. That traitor! That had taken her days to accomplish. Must be the wolf form. Jace must be something though, to get that done so quickly. Sid was not easy. "Yeah that's my companion. In a form that lets me move him about the city. I'm sorry I have to be so brief about this, Highfather but I really gotta run. You guys coming?"

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You had never been one for temples.

In fact, rarely was it a time when you were inside one.

Yet now, you ahd converged with silvia and Corwin.

Highfather raises an eyebrow at your greeting and looks at Knell.

"Liar?"

Yet, time is of the essence as Highfather sends gaden to fetch a carriage.

"It would seem all of you are in a hurry to find the same person, and this Lysa Silentwhisper. May Pelor shine your path. Good luck."

@Silvia. Olly & Corwin: Sid shakes all over as scales begin to appear on his fur.

This guy's going to burst out of the spell soon and a dino in the streets is just asking for trouble.

By the time you reach the Mercy and cross the Wall, Sid howls and grows in size, revealing himself as a giant dinosaur with a colored plumed mohawk.

The bystadenrs wave at Olly and step cautiously back. They know her, but the dino is a new thing.

@Olly: You look at the ruined streets and see some footsprints leading further into the ruined district.

Finding this pixie should be a cynch.

[Thokk_Smash]

It is hardly my fault I can keep a poker face, Corwin jibes with a smirk. But time is of the essence, so lead on, lead on. We can fill you in on the details on the way.

Father Jace, thank you again for your time. Corwin gives a nod of respect before heading out the door.

On the drive to the Mercy he fills the druid in on their journey into the sewer: those monstrous creatures, their abilities and their estimated numbers. Back in the Mercy, he says, We were heading there down a sewer grate the last time, but going back the same way would probably find us meeting those creatures again. Do you have any ideas on how to find them? I have a spell that will tell me when we're close, but I've only a general idea of which way to go.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia, Olly & Corwin: You ignore the clearly scared Mercy dwellers as Olly gets on her knees and grabs a handful of dirt and smells it.

Then, worlessly, she jogs with Sid by her side, past the dilapidated buildings and stop.

It's that manhole. The one Corwin and Silvia were in hours earlier.

The one crawling with those… things.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin sighs as he looks at the uncovered manhole. That reminds him--they still haven't confronted Kyrich about his failure to mention those damned monstrosities. The fact still burns and brings him frustration, but time is of the essence: they have to find Mithmironel, and he still has to find that damned drow witch or else the Castafernis will not be happy. Half the day is gone, and the Githslayer seemed like an honorable enough man to not send them into a trap. If they ever come across him again, however, certainly the reporter will give him the third degree.

If we're going back down there, we're going in prepared, he says, reaching for his wand yet again. Activating this wand is like breathing to him now, and he spends five more charges healing Silvia up.

Then, he incants an arcane phrase that causes his eyes to glow faintly silver. Touching Silvia on the shoulder and poking himself, he incants again and brings upon them the same feeling of being unbound by anything. He waits for Silvia and Olly to give any suggestions or comments before going back down.



Don't need UMD rolls for the wand yet:

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You use your trusty wand and look at the girls.

Silvia cand definitely fight- she shredded one of those things.

Olly is a druid- you know what they can do.

And you have a dinosaur. A. Freaking. Dinousaur.

What could possibly go wrong?

@The party: You descend the manhole and the toxic fumes already poison your nostrils.

Sid has a hard time fitting in, but a well place boot by Olly on his scaly bum sends the raker down with a thud.

The place is devoid of those creatures, which is a good thing…

You all trek for at least an hour and stop.

There, across a barred wall…


http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/pt/3/3e/Lisa_Trevor.jpg

A mask made of cured human faces, badly stitched. tendrils coming out of it. Heavy manacles and chains.

Sid, being bigger than this creature, seems clearly unnerved by its presence.

The creature drags its body slowly. Thankfully, you are on the other side of an iron barred wall.

Giving you the perfect chnace to strike if needed.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia takes a deep breath. "Thank you," she says as Corwin heals the last of her wounds, all save the smallest of scratches.

"These things won't be holding us captive for awhile then, at least... But can either one of you see them?" she asks.

They head down into the sewers again. Silvia keeps her scimitars out, ready the whole time. Things were going surprisingly well... an uneventful hour, and no sign of those creatures from earlier.

Then they come across the caged monstrosity.

She stands a cautious distance away from it, looking to both Corwin and Olly. "Do either of you have any clue what this is?" she hisses.

Looking directly towards it, she speaks out. "...Hello?"

[Thokk_Smash]

I can see them, and I'll light them up for you if we come across them.

Silvia, the Eastern Star--capable of mutilating one of those abominations within seconds.

Olly--druid, definitely capable of turning into a dangerous animal to maul them to death...plus she has a freaking dinosaur that looks like it could eat one of the beasts for breakfast.

And then him...well, he has his wand and he can actually see them. At least they can't hold him down for the next two hours.

The sewer is just as disgusting as before. It is immensely improved, of course, when it goes an hour without sight of the monsters.

And then...something different. ...Had Cutter progressed to human experimentations? This creature looks humanoid--it has the right limbs in the right places, at least. His hand itches for his wand, but if it hasn't attacked them yet, he isn't gonna be the one to instigate a fight.

I've never seen this before in my life...but I bet it was made by the same person who made those abominations, he replies. Moving a few steps closer to the wall, he calls out, Uh, hello, there, uh, squid-face. You wouldn't have happened to see an elf and a pixie around here, would you? He resists the urge to look away from the horrifying visage it presents, and the natural urge to attack it before it can attack them.

Knowledge (Dungeoneering) in place of diplomacy for an aberration; if you don't want this to work, just ignore this: [roll0]

[Tyrann]

"It's good to see you both, but this stuff is so weird." She lights a cigarette as they walk to their cab. "But yeah, let's talk."

Inside the cab she explains "It still doesn't sit right with me how ordered the last few days' chaos has been. I had telepathic contact with Lysa Silentwhisper this morning through an outside friend, and Lysa told me where she was at the time. A laboratory in the sewers, where they were.. doing experiments on fey. Or something. I cast a Find the Path spell, which is why we're in a hurry. It might run out with the detour, and I didn't prepare a second casting.
Lysa did warn me about the creatures down there. Speaking of which, is that why you were in that temple?"

Once they arrive in the Mercy, Olly curses under her breath. She thought she had more time left on Sid's wolf form. At least there were no guards here. She gets on Sid, and invites the others on too. "It beats walking. He can easily outrun a horse."

At the manhole she says

"Well, this is us."

When they're good and well inside she gets on her hands and knees and with a loud roar she turns into a mohawked dire bear. The she starts casting spells in preparation.

Using bead of Karma for +4 CL for the next 10 minutes

Wildshape into Dire Bear

Casting (shared with Sid)
24h - Superior Resistance
16h - Heart of Earth
16h - Heart of Water
16h - Greater Magic Fang x3 (Claw, Claw, Bite)
160 mins - Barkskin
160 mins - Embrace the Wild (CAd) (Desmodu hunting bat -> blindsight 120 ft and scent)
160 mins - Resist Energy (Acid)
120 mins - Extended Owl's Insight


When they see the abomination Olly comments: "Wait. Lysa said to not hurt the Devil in Chains, no matter what."

[Thokk_Smash]

Conversation in the past~

The past few weeks have been one difficulty after another. The fetid rain, the tax increase, and of course, our continued "blessed" Inquisitor. From what I can tell, Mithmironel and his group are at the center of something big.

We went into the sewers at first, but got taken by surprise by the invisible creatures. Silvia demolished one of them, but not before they nearly killed her and me. We got out, and went to the Pelorite temple for healing.

Experiments on fey? Sounds like Cutter is alive and business is booming.

He gets onto the dinosaur with a mixture of hesitation and excitement. How many people can say that they've ridden a dinosaur?

When she relays Lysa's message, Corwin nods. Don't attack the horrifying monstrosity that was once a human. At least not before it attacks us.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You vebture through the dank tunnels and then stop as Sid, despite his size, looks clearly frightened at the creature.

You waste no time and resort to a multitude of transmutations.

Your body could probably take on an entire army. Maybe all of Halmathan if desired.

The creature walks closer towards the bars, as its tendrils wrap around them, but they are so thin and wiry, that they couldn't bend it.

"H…H..Help….Below."

@Corwin: You address the creature as squid face and this one moands and wails as it begins to bring his manacled hands upon the rusted bars.

It may take it a few minutes, but who knows if it will break through.

Of course, it's three against one, so who knows.

@Silvia: any chance to dialog with this…thing is now over. The creature has gone into a frenzy.

To run or fight… that is the question.

[Tyrann]

Olly walked closer to the bars. "Help you with what? And below where?"

She looks at the raging creature, and Sid's reaction to it. But Lysa did say not to harm it..

"You are called the Devil in Chains, right? Lysa said you were a friend. Do you know where she is? Is Lysa below?"

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: The beast attempts to break the rusted bars as Silvia readies blades and Corwin steps back…

Yet you walk forward on all fours, as a dire bear and speak to it.

The creature manages to croak some words.

"L…Lysa…. Alex…. Devil… You look…"

That's when one of its tendrils reaches through the bars and taps your forehead... (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVTP0DOL_2Q)

You find yourself looking through someone's eyes, strapped. In some lab.

You struggle and scream and sob and yell, but the figure looking above you, dressed in a white coat and with a a pair of goggles looks at you as a little blonde girl watches from a fair distance as she takes notes.

The man gets close to you and his goggles rotate, as if calibrating vision.

Her resistance is impressive. Muscular acceleration. Recomposition. Diminished speed has been replaced by exraordinary strength. I shall consider some form of confinement. what do you think, Lady…

The man turns to address the little girl as you break free of one of your constraints and lash out at the man's face, ripping apart half his face with an unearthly roar.

The man reterats, holding his face.

The girl takes a few more notes and smiles.

Mental Control is yet to be enabled, doctor. Proceed with Pacification Protocol...

The view is filled with a potent charge of electricity as the tendril is removed from your forehead.

The creature looks at you and you can see, through its hiodeous mask, made of human faces, a single crimson eye that swells in tears.

Then, it points to a set of stairs further ahead.

"Devil… below."

[WhiteRobbit]

Pyotr

Pyotr breaths in the energizing scent of coffee. Just what I need today!
"A cup of your finest inky brew, my dear," Pyotr replies. He leans in conspiratorially, "and a name, you can help me. Do you know the name Githslayer, by chance?"

[Togo]

Pharis stirs weakly...

What the. Where am I? Who are... How long have I.. How!

[Tyrann]

Olly recoils with a bestial whimper when the tentacle breaks free. What in the hells had she just seen?!

"Wait! I'm okay, it's fine. He showed me something.

She looks at the creature crying. It may be unnatural but she doubts it was by choice and it did just help them. "Thank you."

She turns back Corwen and Silvia.

"You heard him, right? There's a lab down there. He showed me some crazy doctor with weird goggles and a creepy girl in a corner. Do you know who he" she motions at the devil "means by Alex, Corwen? Either way, we're going to need to be careful if we want to get the drop on whatever is down there."

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin flinches and moves back as the creature bangs on the bars. Corwin, you stupid ****** idiot, he thinks to himself. Sure, antagonize the creature that Cutter probably performed dozens of horrible experiments on. Great idea.

Then Olly lumbers forward, and does what he should have done: talk to it like a person. He reaches for his wand again when it touches her head, but she calls for them to not worry. A vision of sorts? The tears, the way it barely touched Olly's head...it has obviously been able to retain some sense of itself, even after the experiments.

Alex? Well, going along with how lucky it is that we're all looking for the same people, Father Jace mentioned an Alexander Anderson. He said he and Mithmironel's group were friends, but he'd disappeared. Maybe they're looking for him, same as we're looking for them?

Corwin approaches the chained creature with his arms up, hands empty and body language entirely non hostile. I'm sorry for my earlier words. They were thoughtless, and you didn't deserve them. We're going to stop whoever did this to you; I swear it.

With a final nod, he turns back to Olly and Silvia. If we're going for stealth, I can make us all invisible for a little over ten minutes. If we stick close together, I can make us invisible with only one spell--but if you go more than ten feet away from me, you'll be visible again.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You try to get up from the bed, but your many wounds still sting as the woman tests the potion in her hand and helps you drink it.

"Arno found you drifting by the pier, trailing blood all over the water. You have been very lucky. Had he not pulled you up on the boat in time, you;d not be here."

That's when a short old man with a bushy white mustache and matching eyebrows wearing a beret and fiherman outfit walks in and tilts his cap to you as the woman nods.

"That's Arno. Don't bother responding back- Arno's a mute, but he is quite helpful around the boat."

You look at this old man, arno…

An old feeble man, who works the ship.

But how did he pull you up? You were dead weight.

Roll a Spot

You then notice your gear stashed next to the bed as the woman looks at you as Arno begins to sweep the room.

"So… mind telling me who you are and why you chose to take a swim off the pier in the middle of the night with several cut wounds on your body?"

@Pyotr: Nana Rose makes the hottest cup of coffee you've had in awhile, with some frothy latte on top as you drink it up and savor the aroma and ease.

Then, you ask about a Githslayer.

The elderly woman smiles and points to a table with four large burly bald men.

"There the are- they all call themselves Githslayer."

@Olly: Elric taught you several things during your training in Glenndale Park when it came to the arts of druidism.

We revere Nature, Olly. In all its ways. But there are some…. some who seek to defile it. The undead, for example. They are a perversion of all that is pure and natural. They ought to have passed on, yet many linger, tainted with hatred towards all that they once loved- Life. And so, they seek to destroy it whenever possible. As druids, it is our duty to protect these fine woods from such heinous creatures...

Then Elric would take pause.

There are other creatures as well, Olly. Living, like you and I, but no less evil than the undead I have mentioned. These creatures pollute Nature by their very being. Alien in all aspects- appearance and mentality. The Earth suffers when these creatures walk the land, for they should not even be here in the first place. Of thosel Olly, you must be most wary, for many are cunning. Cunning to a degree we cannot understand. Driven by alien madness.


yet, as you rapport, for only a few seconds with this creature. This poor soul subjected to who knows how many cruel experiments and those behind it, you realize that Elric may not have been totally right.

It does not take a hideous face to make a monster. Whoever those two were in that vision were responsible for this crature's current state,

They are an affront to Nature.

And maybe this 'Devil in Chains' is beyond salvation. Maybe it will never be what it once was, but you can certainly make sure that those two- the man with the goggles and that little girl…. even if it is a little girl.

@Corwin: You curse inwardly for insulting this creature.

Granted, it is hideous. Chained, with a mask made of humna flesh and faces, but Olly…. Olly seemed to be able to communicate with it…somehow.

The creature looks at you and turns sideways, so as to get a better view of you through its mask, ripped and showing a crimson eye, still shedding tears of the same color.

The creature points to a set of stairs as it lumbers back into the darkness, dragging its chains, which echo through the dark tunnels beneath the City of Power.

@Silvia, Olly & Corwin: You follow the creature's lead and find yourself walking down a stretch of stone, flanked by that noxious green liquid.

Then, you stop in your tracks.

Soldiers. At least a dozen of them. They have been horrendously mutilated. These look like local militia and many are missing their lower body. Others have limbs brutally ripped apart. Still others have thgeir faces chew out.

It's a charnel house down here, with man sized pipes jutting from the walls above the toxic waste.

A lift of sorts can be seen at the end of the walkway.

[Tyrann]

Olly does her best to contain her burning rage at the atrocities committed here. Her voice is cold when she replies to Corwen. "You know a lot more about stealth than I do, so I'll defer to your judgement. Have you tried it against the things that attacked you earlier, by the way?"

When they get to the new room, she whispers low.

"This is.. unnatural. We should make for the other side as soon as we can - this has ambush written all over it."

This place made Olly's neckhair stand up. She has to contain herself not to roar but with those tunnels and that sludge.. this almost looked like a hive of sorts. These bodies did not appear to be used for food. They might be used for incubation, but if so that would mean they really have to leave as soon as possible.
She could attempt to clear the place out later, with more druids. But for now the most important thing was finding Lysa.
And pissing off a horde of angry mother aberrations wasn't the smartest way of going about that goal.
Or even if it weren't something incubation related, something clearly nested here.
She doesn't inspect the bodies at all, instead just bolting straight for the lift and urging the others to come with her.



Olly will attempt to move cautiously but fast, staying within 30 feet of everyone else at all times, and preferably ahead of the group.

Both Sid and Olly have blindsight 120' and scent.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: As you look at the long walkway, with toxic rivers of sludge on each side, the horribly maimed corpses of all those soldiers…

The dripping pipes above…

Fighting here would be suicidal, that's for certain, as you look at Sid and this one lowers its body and begins sprinting at top speed by your side as you look at Silvia and Corwin behind.

It doesn't take even a second for your enhanced druidic senses to catch on what is happening here.

Dozens of creatures- buglike, peeking through the pipes and shrieking with three blank eyes in your direction.

A few begin to swim out of the sludge. Others gnaw their way out of the fallen soldiers as you keep running and Sid slips as he crashes againsthe far wall of the lift. safe, if a little bruised.

@Silvia & Corwin: You contain the horror and bile running up your mouth as you follow suit and can hear the droning buzz of the creatures a few inches behind you as Silvia shuts her eyes and uses her hand to to push against your shoulder as she lifts her entire body and kicks one with such strength, you just hear a splash of sludge behind you.

@The party: The lift closes slowly and in the nick of time as Olly uses her muzzle to push a button and you can see at least fifty of the things flying around the tunnel, a few trying to bite through the grated door as the lift descends.

It takes about ten minutes when you reach a lower area of the sewers and stop at a door with a dragonfly emblem on it.

This looks like the lift from earlier, but it is big enough for four man sized people to ride in.

You all look at Olly and Sid.

Olly may be able to revert to her human self.

But Sid...

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You look at Arno, the old boat keeper and raise an eyebrow, followed by wincing pain.

That mustache is well made, but it doesn't belong in that face. Neither do those wrinkles which, to the untrained eye, would pass as easily to any regular bystander.

The woman looks at you and crosses her arms.

"Well? Who are you?"

[Togo]

Pharis starts to shrug, and then instantly regrets it.

Thank you both. I owe you my life.

He stares at the cealing for a moment, gathering his thoughts and unwilling to move.

I was a soldier. Now I'm a clerk. Or more precisely, I'm a magician, of sorts, who has been working as a clerk. The recent decrees have been... tough for me, so it seemed safer to work for someone powerful enough to provide some measure of protection.

He pauses for a moment.

That person just tried to have me assassinated. At least two professionals, although I suspect three. They must have been fairly expensive, or else he had other means to pursuade them. And it would have worked, if you hadn't come along.

He gives a painful swallow.

Do you mind if I try and heal myself? I was supposed to meet a... a friend at sundown. You mentioned picking me up the middle of the night... That probably means the assassins will already have attacked her too, if they were going to. So I'm probably too late to do anything, but I have to try.

[AlanBruce]

@Pgaris: Arno nods and keeps sweeping as the woman pulls a chair.

"A soldier… for Connor's army? As for a magician…hehhehee. There seems to be many around running incognito. But why on Oerth would a clerk be running around in the middle of night around the pier? As for the drecrees… I agree. That idiot has overstepped his bounds."

The woman looks at Arno, who shrugs and keeps sweeping. Then she looks back at you.

"So a soldier turned clerk, who was assassinated by the his very employer… you're sure you don't work for Connor? At any rate, when Arno found you, there was nowehere in sight. The old goat may be a mute, but he has very good eyesight. As for your friend and your healing, by all menas, if you can. You have been in that bed for less than twenty minutes."

[Tyrann]

"Hahahaha, wow, that was intense." Olly, being a 12 foot tall bear, sits against the side of the elevator and rubs a tear from her eye with her massive paw.

"But maybe a bit too close for comfort. That was at least 50 of them."

She calms down a bit, and seems focused but mostly quiet for the remainder of the elevator ride. This place was so big. Once the big lift comes to a stop, Olly takes a deep breath, smelling the air hoping to pick up something for Sid to track.

At the smaller elevator Olly groans.

"Damn speciesists. Sorry boy, I know you hate this."

For the second time today, Sid starts turning into a black wolf with bright colored hairs on top of his head. Shortly after, Olly shrinks back into human form, ending with her loudly cracking her back and her knuckles, and pulling her facial muscles a few times.

This lift was trouble. This place was much too dangerous to let her defenses down, and in human form she was much more vulnerable. She'd have to be ready to change forms at a moment's notice in there. Thankfully she'd keep her augmented senses, so hopefully she would be able to tell if trouble was coming their way.

Just to be safe, she makes sure to properly inspect the inside before going in. They had time here anyway, with no bugs following them around.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Whoever had bred these things, had made sure they could reproduce en masse.

Had you, Corwin, Silvia and Sid stayed to fight them, it would've been a matter of seconds before all of you ended as part of that gruesome collection of soldiers…

The idea of birthing one of them from your deceased remains is not so calming either…

At the smaller elevator, with a dragonfly etched on the top, Sid snarls at it, but you calm him by placing your paw on the raker as this one reduces in size and adopts a wolf form. You shake the excess fur and watch your mohawk droop again to the left as you abandon your bear form.

Inspecting the elevator, you see a single button. It seems bug safe, but small.

At least all four can fit as you step in and push the buttin as a ding sound shuts the doors and the elevator begins to decsned, woth the sound of grinding wheels outside as artificial light flickers inside, causing Sid to get closer to you.

@The Party: That's when a female';s voice can be heard in the metal box.

A canis lupus and three homo sapiens. One who apparently employs transmutational porperties derived from Glenndale park. Who are you? What are you doing down here?

[Tyrann]

Olly looks expectantly at Corwin, clearly expecting him to do the talking.

[Thokk_Smash]

The run past those...monstrosities certainly is, uh, invigorating. Being able to see them with his divinations definitely helps his motivation.

He notes the dragonfly decoration with interest--the best identifying marker thus far. He ruminates on the meaning as Sid is made small enough to ride the lift.

The voice is met with curiosity, and a healthy amount of suspicion. Part of him wishes they'd become invisible--it didn't seem like she could discern Sid's true form.

Anyway. We are but simple spelunkers, exploring the sewers beneath our fair city. Whom do we have the pleasure of speaking with?

On my phone, and the color code is such a hassle

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: Who knew that while you bowed to roaring applause amidst the glitz and glitter of the Royal Theatre, horrendous fiends were being hatched right beneath you very feet.

And to think Connor was the biggest problem in Halmathan…


The voice listens to you introduce your companions and goes silent.

A dancer is a subject who indulges in unecessary movements in order to please a chemically endowed crowd with serotonin, which is released to the brain, causing an electric impulse that serves absolutely no purpose. However, you carry a pair of scimitars, which would imply a martial dance training, yes?

The voice pauses and then continues.

Olly, an artist. My family has enjoyed the values of fine classical art for generations. Yet she is also a transmuter- if only with basic abilities. Potential is there, but it would have to be honed.

Then, she speaks regarding Corwin.

The Gazette is still standing? Halmathan needs not a place where the written word can be spread. Socierty needs to be single minded. Unified. The written word is a channel for chaos- diveristy in ideologies, which ultimately, leads to anarchism. A reporter is not needed.

@Corwin: You look up at the flickering lights and smile, depspite the woman's words and tell her what youa re doing.

Spelunking: The recreational pastime of exploring wild (generally non-commercial) cave systems. In contrast, speleology is the scientific study of caves and the cave environment. You are not in a cave, Corwin, reporter of the Gazette, you are in my facility. What I wish to know is…why?

@The Party: The voice speaks in a loiuder tone this time.

I am Lady Alexia Ashford, last of the finest families in Halmathan…and its brightest mind.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia clears her throat. "My name is Silvia. I'm a dancer. My companions are Olly - an artist - and Corwin - a reporter. We're here looking for friends of friends.

Who are you?"

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: This Alexia may not like your chosen profession, but that won't stop you fromreaching deep in your mind for the many notes you have gathered about prominent figures in the City.

The Ashford Family.

When Halmathan was first established, it was a bunch of tribes, with local chieftains, but eventually, a sense of order and civilaztion came to be.

It would take years, when the city was built, for these clans to attain a degree of semblance of culture and power.

Amongst them, was Lady Veronica Ashford.

It was said that Lady Veronica was not only a beauty physically, but her mind was unparalleleld even by mages of her time. A noble and a researcher herself, Lady Veronica is said to have personally drawn out plans to improve the city- such as early sketches for the sewer and plumbing system, which every Halmathan takes for granted.

The story then goes sketchy. The Ashford line was frought with successes and failures. the most notable being Veronica's descendant Sir Edward Ashford, who planned and financed the construction of the Dragon's Flight, amongst many other businesses.

Many lauded Edward as the Second Herald of the Ashford Golden Age, which had been lost after Lady Veronica's death.

Then, there was his son, Sir Alexander…. Sir Alexander is said to have squandered Sir Edward's hard earned fortune. Nobody knows on what, however.

The Ashford tale ends in tragedy, however. It is said that Sir Alexander had two children by fair and compassionate Lady Andrea, who actually helped the Mercy by financing the growth of many gardens to embellish the now derelict district.

It would be their two sons- Alfred and Alexia, who would die during Cutter's mad killing spree.

[Togo]

He nods, and then casts a spell, his phrasing an odd combination of mysticism, entreaties to abstract concepts, and definitions of holy forces conjured as if they were arcane forms.

Feeling better, he retrieves a thin wand, and invokes it several times, before studying the depths of a misty pearl, and then casting the first spell over again. As he gradually heals, he speaks.

Um.. Can I ask who you are? Or is it better if I don't know? I feel I owe you a favour for your kindness, but that I shouldn't be asking too many questions about a boat travelling in the dead of night. Or about the people on it. He says, assembling his weapons. Twenty minutes, you say? Any idea how long I was in the water?

casting panacea [roll0]
casting panacea [roll1]
Casting lesser vigour enough times to get back to full hp.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: the woman watches you heal and use a variety of wands as she smiles.

"Oh, now I know you aren't part of Connor's army. As to my name? i asked first. And we aren't sailing. We are anchored in the Marina, pier number… thirty seven? Yes, I believe that is the right number. You want to owe me a favor? well, i don't know if you can. Helping someone who got knifed by some street thugs is, I believe a duty to every good citizen, not a lawful one."

the woman goes in thought.

"You were a soldier, laetr a clerk. and you worked for some crime lord. You must have connections, then. I am looking for a woman. a girl, about twentyish. Her name is Maya, but you may hear of her as Clover. Maya …Kenway. If you can bring her here, consider ourselves even."

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin fights back a grimace as Silvia actually answers the mysterious voice demanding answers. Anyone asking questions over a speaker system in an underground facility brings his paranoia out.

Still, he keeps a congenial smile as he says, The Gazette will never fall, so long as the city still lives. Someone needs to bring knowledge to the people, without dissolving all of their minds into a single ideology. The written word is the finest creation to grace Oerth: it leads to conversation, healthy debate, and can convey ideas to those who might not have thought of them.

I must admit, though, I'm enjoying this conversation with a ghost. From what I heard, Alexia Ashford died about a decade ago--killed in the chaos created from the mad scientist Cutter's monstrous creations.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You can see Olly's companion, Sid, attempt to hide behind the punk druid as Alexia's voice comes through the speaker, wherever it may be.

I am aware of what your kind is possible- to sow the seeds of dissent. Conversation amongst priviledged minds is one thing, but to allow that to disperse like a disease amongst common creatures… that is unacceptable. The Gazette is an affront to a True and Ordered Society… and all those who would hide behind a stack of rioyous paper and a rebellious quill. Ideas are the root of anarchism, Corwin. I can see now that I am dealing with one who would seek to disseminate such concepts. That, however, will not last long...


Then, you mention that you must be speaking to a ghost, since Alecia Ashord was killed by Cutter many years ago.

The Halmathan Royal chuckles as the gears grind through the compact metal box and keep descending.

A ghost is a manifestation of a being that has, for reasons personal or public, refused to abandon this Reality and linger as an ethereal figment. You are not speaking to a ghost, Corwin- you are adressing a Queen.

As for Cutter… he would never lay a hand on me. He could not- I am Ascended. beyond his mortal reach. However, if you are entering my facility, I would very much like to see how you handle your investigative skills, Corwinof the Gazette.

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin feels less and less like smiling as "Alexia" Ashford rambles about true order and blah blah. He could tell from the beginning, he and this "ascended" being stand at complete opposite paradigms in their opinions. And her rambles don't do much to soothe his paranoia.

Still, he keeps his smile up, and says, Dissent isn't the only reason to write things, although with Connor in charge of the city that is a big one. I simply believe in bringing information to the underprivileged--I don't see why common discourse should be reserved for the upper echelons alone. Ideas are what make us human, and elf; dwarf and halfling; it's what makes us sentient beings.

Well, "milady", over what do you rule currently? Where is Cutter right now? And how did you "ascend"? It sounds exhilarating.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Alexia listens to your words as the gears outside keep whirring.

Connor? I am not familiar with such a name. Rest assured, he will not have power over Halmathan for long… as for discourse, unnecessary. When the Golden Age of Halmathan rises again, all thought and doubt shall be cleansed. No more guilt. No more pain. Absolute Loyalty and Obedience, bereft of the shackles of free will. You might want to reconsider your position, Corwin of the Gazette- the time is nigh, as the priests of this city would say….

Regarding Alexia's ascension, the halmathan Royal chuckles.

I could explain, but your mind lacks the intellectual capacity to understand the unfathomable power I wield. And regarding humans, dwarves, halflings…. they shall awaken to a New Life. Reborn, in an image created after mine. Even elves will undergo this magnificent transmutation of Body and Mind. There is only one elf I would consider an equal, an inspiration, but he is not amongst us now...

@The Party: It takes five minutes for the damn elevator to grund its wheels and reach the bottom, with the doors shut as Alexia laughs.

Behold- Halmathan's replacement to anarchy. Good bye...

The doors open wide and you see a complex of stone tunnels thirty feet high.

Pipes jut from the sides and ceiling.

The entire place is dark and filled with smashed halfling sized cocoons, purple in color.

That's when three of those hideous insects can be spotted by those who can see as the elevator dings loudly and the creatures greet you with a billious spray that seeks to melt your body.

16 acid damage, reflex DC 22 half

14 acid damage, reflex DC 22 half

17 acid damage, reflex DC 22 half

And just like that, the hideous cratures lift off the ground and scurry into the pipes.

The elevator shuts behind you and rises.

You are trapped. In some sort of nest of tunnels…

At the mercy of who knows how many of those things.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107799)

Round 1

Corwin
Silvia
Novistadors
Olly
Sid

[WhiteRobbit]

Pyotr

Large, bald and burly. Of course the are. Pyotr takes a sip of coffee to fortify himself and heads to the table, donning his most winning smile.
"Gentlemen! I wonder if you could assist me. I'm looking for one of your number named Kyrich."

[AlanBruce]

@Pyotr: With your much shorter frame, you thank Nana Rose and pick up you coffee and head towards the table with the bald men.

They don't look armored or armed, except for one, who has a wicked spiked chain wrapped around his body.

The men look at you and one of them, unarmored and with a trimmed blck goatee raises an eyebrow as the other towering hulks look at you, their shadows cast against the light of the Bitter Coffee enveloping your entire self.

"Our… number? We are a military force, but even that term is offensive, boy. And you are speaking to Captain Byeresk. I would suggest you use a better approach when speaking to strangers…. then again, this City is strange as it is."

The armored one looks at you and grimaces.

"You are looking for Githslayer Kyrich? I am he. What do you Halmathans want now?"

He begins to reach for his spiked chain.

@Pharis: You listen to the woman, who has asked for your name several times now, but have yet to give her a straight answer and try to recall the name Clover…

An agent… or probably some assassin. The details are sketchy here. They say she used to work for some organization here, but after awhile, she vanished. By death or hiding, is anyone's guess.

[Togo]

Pharis grimaces. Sorry, distracted. And I had some idea you'd be safer not knowing. My name is Pharis.

Will this Clover want to be found, and if so, who should I say is looking for her?

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia grimaces as the acid sprays engulf her body again. This was all too familiar... and again, she couldn't see the creatures anywhere. She raises her blades and prepares to wait until she has something to swing at.

Delay to after Olly.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: the woman listens to what you have to say and smiles as she looks out the window of her boat.

"They'd be safer not coming here, I can tell you that. The name's Armaita, but you have to, and I cannot stress this enough, Pharis- you have to keep my name secret. Secret from her. Secret from everyone, is that clear to you, Pharis? If you find Clover- which may not be such an easy task- lie to her. Do not mention my name. Just get her to the pier and to this boat- The S.S. Audune."

Armaita watches you heal completely and gestures to your gear- all of it intact.

"Now, I believe you had to meet someone?"



********

Meanwhile, in Sarjon's office…

Boss sarjon enjoys a glass of wine as a stack of pizza boxes threaten to topple off his old mahogany desk.

A series of nefarious individuals sit or stand opposite him.

A woman withn a leather armor and ruby colored hair bites into a slice as the grease drips from her mouth.

An elf wearing a balck leather armor and a cloak checks the boxes and smiles when he finds the right flavor and snags a piece out.

A gnome woman sits silently with a guitar poised by her side and cuts her pizza slice on a cardboard plate.

A masked and hooded man rests against the wall, with a bow slung behind him, arms crossed.

Flies flutter around him and some land on the many pizza boxes.

A massive bugbear, wearing a heavy and black breatsplate sits against the wall, with an entire box for himself. A large greatsword leaning beside him.

A drow with light grey hair floats above the room, legs crossed indian style as he nibbles on a slice.

A woman with a red mohawk and an ornate dress meditates in a corner. Her plate is full, but she has not bothered to touch the pizza.

Finally, a tall figure, clad in shadow, rests closer to the main door as sarjon takes a sip of his glass.

"First, let's all give our thanks to Gino of Gino's Pizzeria- the finest pizza in Little Geoff. Who accepted to make this most generous donation. get up, Gino, don't be shy…"

Amongst the many thugs in the room, a short man with a bald curly black hair and a thick black mustache steps warily mongst all of Sarjon's assassins, who look at him with malice in their eyes as the honest baker shakes all over as he bows to Sarjon.

"Y…You're welcome? May I leave now, please?"

Sarjon looks at one of his grunts and nods.

"Show him out. Ok! Let;s go through the files we have here- Sasha Mabelle."

The red haired woman swipes the grease off her mouth and raises her hand smiling sheepishly.

"Me! That's me!"

"Forty nine accounts of murder and theft… not bad."

Sasha shrugs.

"Was aiming for fifty. I like to commit, you know?"

Sarjon puts the file down.

"Uh huh… and let's see- Aramian. You worked for the Castaferni Family. Cleaning Business?"

The elf is about to bite the pizza and nods.

"And damn good at it, but I wanted more. I deserved to get that promotion! So I knifed some contacts for the family, but I had to get my message across, right?"

The tiefling raises an eyebrow.

"They don't know you are here, I take it?"

"Nah! I was behind bars before they could get their hands on me. As far as they're concerned, I'm still rotting in that place."

Sarjon serves himself another glass of wine and sighs.

One thing was getting rid of Pharis. Another was starting a family war with Don Venustiano.

"Ok, then… Camelia Notedawn. What were you in for?"

The gnome is about to rspond when Sasha butts in.

"So…why off the clerk, Sarjon? He wasn't exactly a threat."

Aramian digs into his slice of pizza and speaks with his mouth full.

"Oh, I think I know. Sasha, you just kill. I know when I kill what they had on. and this guy was swimming in magic. That's it, isn't, Sarjon? Competition?"

The tie fling looks at Aramian and stands up.

"There is no competition here! I am the boss! Now, who's next… Thorgeir- Runestone ex student! What do you know…"

The drow looks at everyone from above as a fly buzzes by his nose, causing the dark elf to attempt to swat it away.

"Best damn student! You know how many warlocks that place has? Take a guess… me! I was the only one and the finest… then, they said I cheated on a test. That teacher won't be teaching class again…hehehhehehhee!"

Sarjon looks at Thorgeir and sits down as he looks at Camelia.

"So, you were saying?"

The gnome opens her mouth again when Aramian tosses the pizza back towards the floor.

"There's a damn fly on it!"

And indeed, the office has more than a few flies buzzing about as the hooded and masked archer looks at the main desk.

"That would be me, Aramian. You got anything against flies?"

Sarjon gestures to the masked man.

"Asgrim Festerwound. He is…"

Sasha interrupts Sarjon as she looks at the masked man.

"I know that name. You're with Skreet's Gang. You haven't even served time!"

Asgrim bows to sasha.

"Because where others were busy killing and leaving a trail, I was not. It's called brains, Sasha. Look it up. As to the Skreet Family, maybe I still work for them. Maybe I don't…"

Sasha blinks twice at Asgrim, trying to figure out his words and shrugs as she reaches for another slice.

Sarjon looks at the woman with the red mohawk and reads another file.

"Zanthar Blakfist. You trained with the Kordite Temple. An…accident with your sparring instructor?"

Zanthar keeps her eyes shut and continues meditating.

"I'm here for the work. That is all you and everyone needs to know."

The tiefling gives the woman a surly look and then takes another file and looks at the bugbear decked in heavy armor as he rolls the entire pizza and stuffs it into his mouth.

"Heos… of the Royal Guard! Damn, aren't we in high company?"

The bugbear swallows the entire rolled pizza and swallows hard.

"I was part of the Pelorite Goblinoid rehab program- some idea by that winged freak to welcome goblinoids into The City. What better way than to train them and give them..holy guidance. Heh. I guided a few of them, alright…with my blade."

Sarjon smiles and leans back on his chair.

"Ok, then! Whatever horrible things you did in the past… you're doing them again! Hahahahah! I want you to really make people beg for Mercy here. Give this district an actual meaning. No killing, though- I can't collect from corpses."

You're not the boss...

Sarjon and everyone turns to the shadowy figure, who had remained silent and a tall hobgoblin, decked only in an ornate pair of leather pants steps forth.

Sarjon gets up and squints his eyes as both tiefling and hobgoblin meet across the room.

"Rurin…. you were in for… your file is scratched."

Rurin steps forward.

"You;re not getting dirt on me, sarjon. You call yourself the boss, but you couldn't even get us out of that place. He did. And to him do I answer. Do not forget…"

Rurin reaches into his pockets and takes out a gem, identical to the one Sarjon was given earlier.

"…. you can be replaced, I believe, right? If you guys are done stuffing yourselves with cheap pizza, we're rolling out. Move!"

The crew gets up as Sasha picks one last slice for the road and Sarjon sits back and lights a cigar.

He's still the boss… and Hells be damned if he'll be deposed by a hobgoblin.

[WhiteRobbit]

Pyotr

Pyotr raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I meant no offence, gentlemen, I apologise. I have no quarrel with any of you, I wish only to speak with Kyrich Githslayer."
Pyotr turns to the spiked chain-wearing man. "Sir, if I may trouble you for a moment of your time. May we speak, perhaps in private? I promise I will not take up much of your time."

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You watch the creatures fly and crawl into the tunnels and then look at the small sized cocoons on the ground, which is slightly slippery, with what can only be described as some form of amniotic fluid- a result of their birthing process, perhaps.

Those cocoons do indeed give birth to those ghastly creatures. In fact, looking around, as far as your eye can see, the floor and walls are riddled with them, but the vast majority have been cracked, dripping that vicuous liquid on the stone floor.

This seems to be a nesting ground for the creatures…and that lift just dropped you into the middle of it.

@Pyotr: Githslayer Kyrich looks at you, still seated and then looks at his comrades.

"What is it with you people pestering me every single day? If you wish to speak to me, pull a chair- there are no secrets amongst my company."

[Togo]

As you wish

He nods, gives a desk sargeant's salute, and disappears over the side of the boat.

Moments later he is under the pier, advancing cautiously. In the darkness there is a snuffling, and two large liquid eyes look back at him. Pharis gives the exploring nose a quick pat.

You know, for an instanciated abstraction of a yearning for escape, you're awfully big, aren't you? Maybe that tells me something...

The beast gives a snort, and advances, it's antlers scraping against the wooden platform above.

I could have died, you know? he says scritching the back of the stag's head. No fault of mine that I didn't. I've got to stop playing by other people's rules. I mean, you're beautiful, and you could have saved me, and I hid you away because I didn't want anyone to see you?

He shakes his head, and twisting his fingers into the new gloves.

Ok, so I can't go home. But then, my life's not working out anyway. I've tried to take small steps, not rock the boat, and it's not really getting me anywhere. Hiding isn't working. Sensible isn't working.

He retrieves his bundle from a dry ledge, and puts on the festival mask, before swirling the hooded black cloak around him.

So let's try a paradigm shift, see where that gets us.

As the stag emerges from under the dock, he vaults onto it's back. He doesn't have a sadle, or bridle, but then he doesn't need them. He's riding a creature conjured from within his own mind. As they gallop out over the water, they pick up height and speed, faster and faster until within seconds the boats of the pier are a blur of dark shapes far behind them.

Under the pier, the dressmakers' dummy remains, clothed in a fair approximation of what Pharis had been wearing, with a stuffed head sewn to the top. It's sightless eyes watch the two of them disappear off across the water, until the black stag and the black cloak blend in with starscape and the clouds.

The idea is to head out beyond the ambit of the eyes in the sky, and then circle around and come in above them. Fly over to the park, and then descend in a steep dive, going from above the eyes to amongst the trees within a single round.

[Thokk_Smash]

By the end of this, we'll see whose mental capacity is lacking, "Alexia", Corwin says as the voice cuts out.

More of those monstrosities! Corwin mutters more profanities in his mind as the acid drenches the party. If she wants to replace the city with these creatures, then she has to be stopped on principle alone, he comments, biting back a groan of pain.

He considers the cocoons, and his heart sinks yet deeper. This whole place is a nesting ground--those creatures were born and bred here, as it were. We need to get the hell out of here, and fast, like Olly did in the other room. That they got the drop on us is unfortunate, but let's keep moving.

With a word, tiny quills appear to remove him from the material plane for a brief moment of time. He moves forward 20 feet, and then prepares himself to cast Glitterdust on the next group of monstrosities to appear.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You thank Armaita and Arno, who nods silently and keeps sweeping the deck.

The ship isn't that big. It's designed for fast travel. Maybe it could accomodate six people, and that would be a lot already.

You walk through the pier as the lamposts gather fireflies around them and the waves of the ocean beyond spash on the concrete pair and whistle to your ride.

From the water rises a magnificent black stag with ethereal hazel eyes and a black pelt.

A creature unlike any seen on Oerth, that's for sure.

You pet the phantom and jump on its bag as its hooves swirl with magical energy and rises as high as you can over the halmathan skyline.

However…

Glenndale Park is very far away. Even at top speed with the stag, reaching the park will not be done in seconds.

You rise higher and higher, as the citylights are obscured by the night sky and then gallop across the star ridden night as you begins your decsent at high speeds, breaking the clouds and enetering halmathan sky space.


Connor's Eyes in the Sky float eerily about as a multitiude of search light move around between each other, and the ground.

Glenndale is not too far away, but if these lights were to catch you…

Roll a reflex, made by the stag

@Corwin: You voice your opinions to Alexia as transmission shuts off.

Then, you brush away the worst of the acid spray and look at the series of tunnels.

Breeding grounds. Whatever Alexia has been doing here, it cannot be allowed to continue.

And if she plans to replace all of you with those things…


You call on a tiny golden ink vial and hold in in your hand, golden in color.

These things liked camouflage, and given your own innate talents, you could see them, but Siklvia could not.

Time to take one for the team…


You walk twenty feet ahead of Olly, silvia and Sid and look around at the disgusting slime covered pipes.

With lightning fast speed, two of the creatures rush you from both sides, as you release the glitter, hopefully, not catching yourself in it.

One othem misses entirely.

The other, however…

7 damage

12 damage plus imp. grab Dc 23. If you have FoM, ignore it.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107867)

Corwin
Novistadors
Olly
Silvia
Sid

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You pull on the stags silver antlers and look a few feet below you.

The Eyes in the Sky, chugging black smoke that gets lost in the night sky.

Below them, the dark canopy that is Glenndale Park and a million lights around it from the urban metropolis that is the City of Power.

You know these things patrol the skies, but you have not had a chance to test how accurate they are… or what they can do.

Clacking the stag's flank, you race through the large search lights, dodging most of them…

That's when one shines on your face as you cover it.

Alert! By order of His Grace, you are breaking the law, trespasser! Open fire!

It would seem Connor meant business when he banned flight and placed these things in the sky as the stag moans in pain as a barrage of bolts, fired at high speed, perfrorate his perfect black fur.

The stag flies downward as the light truies to follow you and you can tell by its breathing, that it won't be long.

We got the target, sir! Clear as day!

Smoke him...

That's when a huge explosion blasts the Phantom Stag as this one plummets in a ball of fire towards Glenndale Park.

As the wind hits your face at tremendous speeds, you manage to stand vertically, by holding to the stag's antlers for support and shut your eyes as you breathe in and out…

As soon as you open them, you watch the canopy several feet away from you and leap from the dying conjuration as you use several branches to aleve your fall and land on a alrge pile of leaves as you stay hidden and watch the Eyes in the Sky shine their search lights through the thick canopy.

We got him, sir!

Agreed. Ascend and keep watching….

You wait a few minutes as Connor;s balloons of death return to their high places and begin casting light over other areas of the park.

You walk towards the fallen Stag and kneel before it as it breathes deeply, maimed, pierced and burnt.

With a simple gesture, you dismiss him and look up at the sky.

These things don't just report the news… Connor has weapons floating over the City.

That's when a female;'s voice can be heard a few feet behind you.

Sedge mentioned you were quite skilled. She also said you were punctual...

[Tyrann]

In the elevator

"You are a colossal egomaniac, lady. You missed the entire point of your favorite little school of magic. Transmutation isn't about a single improvement. It's about adaptability. Flexibility. Survival of the most fit, not the fittest.

You would remove the very thing that makes us strong, our individuality, our diversity, our adaptablity, and replace that with your bull****. **** you. I'll send you to the deepest pit of the nine hells myself before I let that happen. Speaking of which, my fangs have a date with your throat for what you did to that creature in chains up top. I hope you like the taste of your own blood."



---

When the elevator stops, Olly uses her improved sense to let out a subsonic screech, hoping to catch what was behind the doors as soon as they open.

The bouncing sound made images unlike regular vision - like seeing with your ears. She knew exactly where everything was. But unfortunately, sound doesn't move as fast as regular light does, and when fighting things like Novistadors, every millisecond counts. She screeches through the slit in the elevator doors as it opens, and can just barely make out the third creature's spitting movement and manages to dodge half of the third acid spray. She glances at Sid and sees he saw the same thing. They both got hit full blast by the first two splashes. Thank Ehlonna she had put up that abjuration. Judging grom the smell of acid burn coming from the other two in the elevator, they hadn't been so lucky.

"Damn it, this stupid elevator. How am I supposed to dodge anything here?!"

This new room was disturbing. Those three bugs were clearly not the only bugs creeping about. The eggs could still contain more hatchlings and with all these damned mutations going on she couldn't tell which ones did. And what's worse, so many of them were hatched. Lost in thought she lets her senses down for a second, and when she recalls to shriek.

"Corwin watch the fla-. Damn it. Get em, boy!"

She dispels the wolf transmutation on Sid, and moves ahead as far as she can in her clunky encumbered human form, casting one final swift spell on Sid for good luck.

Sid, returned to raptor form, slashes down hard on the closest Novistador.

Olly
Standard - Dispel Aspect of the Wolf on Sid
Move - Move to L21
Swift - Casting Nature's Favor on Sid.

Sid - Full attack on Novistador in N20. If he can pounce he will. If he kills it and has attacks remaining, he will 5' step and attack the other one.

Claw 1[roll0]
Claw 1 damage [roll1] + DC 18 fort vs poison 1d6 Dex/1d6 Dex

Claw 2[roll2]
Claw 2 damage [roll3] + DC 18 fort vs poison 1d6 Dex/1d6 Dex

Bite[roll4]
Bite damage [roll5]

Tail[roll6]
Tail damage [roll7] + DC 18 fort vs poison 1d6 Dex/1d6 Dex

If Sid gets to pounce -

Rake[roll8]
Tail damage [roll9]

Trip[roll10]
If trip is successful - Grapple [roll11]
Failure means automatic pin.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You look up at the flickering ights and address Alexia in the best way you know.

The Halmthan Royal remains quiet as you sput out your words and responds back.

You insolent inferior homo sapiens! Transmutation is a school of magic beyond the capacity of your lesser intellect to comprehend. No surprise… many of the druids in Glenndale Park failed to see that as well… they do so now. Individuality and Diversity are the roads to anarchism. You are a prime example, with your ill chosen words, that Halmathan needs a swift restructure. Chaff such like you will not be tolerated in the New Golden Age…

As for the creature in Chains? So you have met it? One of his flawed creations. Thankfully, adaptability is one of my many skills. It has served its purpose rather well…willingly or not.

Once the elevator opens, you are greeted by an acidic spray as Sid looks at you and snarl;s at the creatures as these crawl up into the pipes.

So Alexia wanted to test who is the fittest…she would learn that… the hard way.

As Corwin gets clawed further ahead, you move through the slimy stone floor as the broken cocoons watch you in silence and you can sense dozens upon dozens of these creatures lurking in the pipes. unseen to the trained eye, but if they choose to swarm on all of you…


That's when, in mid run towards Corwin, you wink at Sid as the wolf runs towards one of the hideous Novistadors and his body doubles in size as his fur sheds and talons and scales replace his paws and legs.

Sid is a hunter. and a damn good at it, as he tears into one of the Novistadors, but given his size increase, he is unable to leap on the creature. However, the many claws and bites can be seen on the insectoid mutant as Sid spits out the torn flesh in disgust.

Yet the creature, heavily injured…is still alive.

Alexia's chuckle can be heard amidst the tunnels.

So the canis lupus was in fact a dromaeosaurid theropod, of the genus velociraptor. I already have a bicornis beatis draco, but their abilities aren't as impressive as the dromaeosaurid theropod, or 'Flesh raker' as your kind lazily coins them. A peritonal gland located in the brain circulates down to the main aorta through blood vessels transferring a swift, but barely threatening poison. The specimen is interesting, to say the least. It certainly has room for improvement…

The Novistadores keep shireiking from their tubes, detected through yoru spells, but as of yet unseen to the naked eye.

I must wonder what were to happen if your precious companion were separated? You did mention survival fo the fittest, no? and I do enjoy a good test...

@The Party: A black Aura surrounds each and everyone of yopu as the entire tunnels begin to rumble.

Some popwer is attempting to move you. get you separated…

And in this place, that may not be the safest thing.

Everyone make a Will save

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107966)

Corwin
Novistadors
Olly
Sid
Silvia

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You watch blak tendrils sopring from the ground, insubstantial in taure as you struggle to cut them down with your baldes and then cry for help as these drag you below ground, leaving no trace…

Then, you rise in another area of these cocoon and pipe infested tunnels.

None of your allies are nearby- none you can see.

You can hear some distant battle sounds….

You can aslo hear the shrieks of those hidoeus creatures crawling through the pipes.

@Corwin: Alexia's laughter fills the tunnel complex as black tendrils envelop you and drag you below the ground…

You then reappear in another section of the tunnel. Alone.

Youn't yet see the creatures, but you can hear them crawling through the pipes.

It would seem this mad woman wants to separate and eliminate all of you.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107981)


Corwin
Novistadors
Olly
Sid
Silvia

[Togo]

The masked man turns to face the voice, and gives a bow.

Normally I am. Let me heal some hurts and get out of this bush

He sidles crabwise out of the dense foiliage, climbing on some branches and sliding past others, while he casts a spell.

cast barkskin

Now, you seem confident you know who I am. What can I call you?

He looks around expectantly.

And where is Sedge?

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia lets out an involuntary cry as the tendrils transport her away from her companions. Oh, this is just great. I can't even see these damn things on my own...

She stands cautiously, drawing out her carpet from her bag. "Ouilaia," she whispers, rising several feet before directing it down the tunnel, trusting her ears to guide her back to the main area.

Move action to draw the carpet, then another move to go up 15 feet, then 25ft down the passage.

[AlanBruce]

@Silvia: You take out a small round ball of cloth and speaking the ancient words from your distant lands, this one extends into a magnificent persian carpet with a tiger motif as you leap on it, rise and dash through the bug infested tunnels.

The sound of the creatures has gone completely mute.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107984)






@Pharis: You listen to the fenmale's voice and immediately cast a spell that hardens your skin to reflect that of the many trees around you.

Then you turn to look at this stranger.

She is an elf, with light leather armor with a leaf motif. her hair is the color of autumn and you can see a splendid dark green cloak around her shoulders.

The most striking feature is that she wears a wooden mask. One carved with a multituide of very strange carvings, mostly spiral shaped.

A pair of slits for the eyes, allow you to discern they are amber.

The woman leans against a tree and looks at you from the corner of her wooden mask.

"It would seem there are many masks running around this city. As to who I am? You may call me Myriam. And you are Pharis, student to Master Shigure in the Zodiac temple. A very wise man."

Myriam walks up to you and stands a cautious ten feet away from you. she seems unarmed, which would give you an advantage over her if she tried anything funny.

"Sedge is doing well. she is safe. I met her a few months ago, in The Mercy. Spoke highly of you. a pity about your choice of associates…"

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: You try and wretsle against these ominous dark force. Cold to the touch, Unnatural. alien…

Sid roars as his body is dropped to the ground and looks at you through his yellow reptilian eyes as both are sunken beneath the stone tunnel with ease.

@Olly: You appear at the end of a cocoon infested tunnel and can see Sid, disoriented, at the end of it, in a major area.

The bugs are moving fast through the pipes…

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107995)

Round 2

Corwin
Novistadors
Olly
Sid
Silvia

[Thokk_Smash]

Try as he might, Corwin cannot resist the pull of those black tendrils of energy. When they pull him down he stops fighting against them, refusing to scream while they translocate him. No need to give Alexia that satisfaction.

He looks around for a split second, orienting himself once more. I think I'll take that as a concession that you're scared, Alexia, he calls out to the air as he moves through the tunnel, coming to the lip. Peering around, he can see that both Sid and Olly have been moved, though he can't see where the young druid was transported.

Mentally, he calls out, Olly, Silvia, if you can hear me, this is Corwin. Yes, I can talk to you telepathically; no, I can't use it to read your mind. I'm moving further down the tunnel; give a holler if you need help.

He then walks down the north end of the tunnel, looking around warily at the pipes and holes in the wall. Just to be safe, he intones an arcane phrase and tiny quills write him out of the material plane for a few seconds.

Double move to N8.

Swift Etherealness--ethereal until the end of his next turn.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: Not wanting to become bug food, you run through the slippery, slimy diungeon floor, crunching a few empty coccooon shells as you shut your eyes and everything looks muted and insubstantial.

The Ethereal Plane.

Few creatures can affect you. Hopefully, tat extends to those insects.

then, you try to calm Olly and Silvia through the amazing powers of your mind.

Everything will be fine. You will et out of…

@The Party: A loud whirring sound followed by a rumble and Alexia's laughter bring down solid rusted grates that trap Olly on one side and Sid on the main area.

Let us see now how well you fare against Halmathan's Glorious New race…hahhahahahhahhahaha!

@Silvia: Unseen and unheard, one of those things claws at you twice, even as youre mounted on your carpet.

11 damage

10 damage

Then, the acid…

17 acid damage, reflex DC 22 for half

@Olly: You see one of those three eyed monstrosities dash like fetid lightning towards you as it rips into your tough armor.

14 damage

13 damage plus imp. grab DC 26, if you have FoM, ignore it.

@Sid: You watch Olly far away, beyond the rusted grate and snarl as several drops in the slimy floor indicate several of these things.

Your scent is honed to perfection, but can you take them out before they sink their claws into you?

That's when your scent catches one flying straight towards you.

AoO, with a 50% miss chance, I believe

The creature digs both claws into you and holds fast.

8 damage

11 damage plus imp. grab DC 19

Then, another set of claws dig into your flanks.

9 damage

8 damage plus imp. grab DC 14

One swipes at your eye, nearly removing it.

By instinct, you swerve your massive scaly head to the left and feel the brush of certain death.

10 damage

A final set of claws cause you to roar in pain as they strike in an old wound.

20 damage

11 damage plus imp. grab DC 22

@Olly: You can sense them, right beyond that grate.

They're going to kill Sid unless you can get rid of this thing!!!!

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=107999)

Corwin
Novistadors
Olly
Sid
Silvia

[Tyrann]

Olly sees Sid, and tears come to her eyes. He fought bravely on scent alone, but was going to die if he stayed there, fighting blind. Not if she could help it.

She activates the heart of water on herself to slip out of the grapple, and braces herself. This was going to hurt.. But it was worth it to save Sid.

She turns herself into a hawk and flies towards the tunnel to where she knows Corwin is, getting battered along the way, purposefully drawing attention away from Sid. Once all the creatures are focused on her, she tells him "Jump Sid! Go! Corwin help him! Please!"


Olly

Swift - Activate heart of water -> freedom of movement for 16 rounds

Standard - Wild shape into hawk -> no good stats but tiny and 60 ft fly

Move - Move to O13, provoking AOOs from Novistadors 2, 3, 4 and 5.


Sid -

AOO -
Concealment (50+ hits?)[roll0]
Attack - [roll1]
Damage - [roll2] + DC18 vs Poison 1d6 dex/1d6 dex

Move - Jumps over the Novistadors, provoking from Novistador 1.
Jump [roll3]

Standard - readies an action to move through the grate if made ethereal.

[AlanBruce]

@Olly: Tears flow through your freckled cheeks at the hideous insect mauls on your body, its hind legs clawing at your thighs for support. Its wings droning intermminently.

The hell if Alexia is going to get away with this!

You shut your eyes and listen to the roaring of waves as your body becomes fluid and push the beast aside as your body suffers a radical transmutation as you shrink in size and your face gros a black beak, while your droopy mohawk transforms into grey feathers and you spread tour wings and fly, fly as fast as you can through this unnatural nest.

The creature shrieks, but misses its mark as you sopiral towards the grate and leave a tuft of features behind as you swoop around Sid.

The hideous mutants direct their three blind eyes at you and each claws at your body.

8 damage

9 damage

9 damage

Sid attempts to bite one of the creatures, but his scent fails him. These beasts are cunning and limber. However, he doesn't have to be told twice as he shakes the mass of chitin scraping at his scaly flesh and lowers its lithe frame, only to jump over the sewer nightmares…

One manages to claw at his underbelly as Sid lands on his feet and roars at the empty space.

9 damage

Caught with your companion in a grated cell of death is not exactly how you opictured your day would go when Elric sat with you for breakfast, but yiou must get out of this den...

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=108000)

@Silvia: Alexia's voice can be heard amidst the shrieks of these horrible mutants as your body is sprayed in acid.

A flying carpet… if I had to guess, one woven by wrinkled hands in the Waste. an appropriate name for a place such as that.

Round 3

Corwin
Novistadors
Olly
Sid
Silvia

[Thokk_Smash]

And suddenly, it all goes to the pits of hell! Corwin watches though the muted view of the Ethereal Plane as the grates slam down, cutting Sid off from escape. Looking behind him, he notes that it's still open, and he feels some modicum of relief.

He can only watch with sympathy as the monstrous creations tear into Sid from all sides. That damned Alexia; he can only guess how much pleasure she's taking in this, but he can imagine it's more than a sane person would.

I've got him, I've got him! Just worry about yourself! He grits his teeth and gestures to the fleshraker. Instantly, the animal is written out of this plane of existence, to allow him to escape the den of monsters.

Moving forward, he notices Silvia being accosted by another of the monstrosities. She looks to be struggling, unable to see the creature attacking her. Gesturing, another golden ink vial appears to splash the area behind Silvia and the Novistador, aiming to catch only the monster in its range. The world comes back into full color once more as he returns to the material plane, and he grimaces as he anticipates more of those monstrosities appearing.

Swift action Swift Etherealness, move action to L4, standard action Glitterdust to the area around C4-E4, aiming to just barely miss Silvia.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You take out a viakl of translucennt ink and toss it at Sid as his aooearbce becomes ghostly.

The spell worked. Now, it;s just a matter of Olly getting out.

As you move further up the tunnels, you see there are two possible paths, a door to the far left and another to far right.

But that will have to be decided later.

As the essence of spectres disappear, you reach into your coat pocket and toss a vial of golden ink that burst behind the nasty creature as this one is bathed in sparkling golden glitter.

But with your effect gone… now you're a sitting duck.

@Silvia: The glittering and now very visible insect shrieks as its three blank eyes rotate in your direction and lashes about.

8 damage

Yet only one is able to connect as your carpet seems to move a few feet lower, evading the creature's claw.

@Olly: One of the creatures scampers into the pipes, allowing Sid a potential attack…assuming he can smell the filthy thing.

Yet the other three remain, as one lashes at you twice, yet only hits once.

11 damage

One strikes you brutally. It;s claws staining your grey feathers red.

20 damage

His other claw is no less hurtful, either…

13 damage

With Sid a big scaly ghost, the other creature retreats into the pipes as well.

@Corwin: You tense as you hear a squishing sound twenty feet behind you and another one of those things crawls from the pipes as it opens it jaws and sprays billious acid on you.

15 acid damage, reflex DC 22 for half

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=108002)

Corwin
Novistadors
Olly
Sid
Silvia

[Tyrann]

Realizing that fighting is not an option at this point, Olly makes a break for it, yelling "Follow me Sid!"

She slips through the grates and draws the attention of the Novistador in the way. Sid slips through everything, slightly confused but loyal and trained enough to still do as Olly tells him

Withdraw actions on both Olly and Sid. Double move for both. Olly to R4 (over the Novistador to not provoke) and Sid to XY34 unless Olly senses Novistadors there. Olly moves first, so if she sense anything I'll change Sid's movements.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia smiles grimly as the creature is coated with dust. "Thanks Corwin!" she calls as she brings her blades down on it in a whirlwind of motion.

Full Attack. +2 shield to AC this round.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[roll4]
[roll5]

[roll6]
[roll7]

[roll8]
[roll9]

[roll10]
[roll11]

[AlanBruce]

@Olly & Sid: The ghostly Raptor sppeds as far as he can as you avoid the clutches of the beasts as you artfuklly dodge them in hawk form.

Alexia laughs through the mutant infested tunnels.

Evolution… the principle key to Supremacy. In the end, you could not stand to Halmathan's Future!

You stop shy of a few feet from the ghastly insect and look at the floor…

Footspes. And several. They seem to bend around a corner.

@Silvia: As soon as the creature is glittered by Corwin, you assume the graceful posture of the Hshashin and begin dancing atop your carpet as green blood flies in perfect anguklar shapes as the creature flutters in place, garcely cut, but not dead.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=108005)

Round 4

Corwin
Silvia
Novistadors
Olly
Sid

[Thokk_Smash]

Corwin ignores the mad rambles of the insane "queen" as he looks around. Sid and Olly on one end, him and Silvia on the other. Silvia, this way! he calls, motioning to the other end.

He takes aim at Silvia's enemy with his wand, hoping to free her of the nuisance pestering her. Then he calls upon the tiny quills yet again to bring him safely to the Ethereal Plane, and then moves to join Olly and Sid.

UMD for Magic Missile: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Swift Etherealness
Move action to R3.

[Still_I_Rise]

Silvia sets her carpet into motion again, taking a swing at the creature as she passes it and nimbly avoiding its claws as she flies out of its grasp.

Move 10 forward, attack, then 30ft right. Spring Attack, no AoO

[roll0]
[roll1]

If it was killed by the Magic Missile, then double move to get to Olly and Sid.

[AlanBruce]

@Corwin: You take out your wand and fire a few concentrated blasts at the beast glittering and in battle with Silvia.

The creature drops to the ground and twitches its leg, but is not dead yet.

@The Party: Those who can, watch the insects scurry into the pipes. Olly can certainly feel them scurrying about the walls…

But there seems to be more.

Thundering click clacks…

A horde is coming. a horde big enough to tear down the tunnels.

Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=108007)

[Thokk_Smash]

Okay, everybody around the corner! Corwin shouts, starting to run around the corner himself. We need to get distance between us and them, get someplace away from those damned pipes.

[Tyrann]

"Agreed, we need to move. Something's coming. A horde of somethings."

Olly and Sid both move off the map at ZA0

[AlanBruce]

@The Party: You run through the slime splattered tunnels and round the corner.

A metal door, and it seems unlocked.

Sid butts the door in as Olly flies past him and Silvia tumbles through the giant dino.

Corwin squeezes through, just in time to avoid one of the many creatures's claws.

But what to do with Sid?

You all tug and pull at his head and talons, making sure you aren't poisoned by them.

The raker's eyes widen and a tear forms on his eyes as he roars in pain.

Those bugs must be having a field day with Sid's trapped rump.

With a loud grunt and atug, you pull Sid inside as Silvia kicks the door shut in one of the creature's faces as several bumps can be seen as indentations on the door.

You take a breather. That could've been a massacre.

And then you look at this place.

This room is a hallway.

The floors are made of marble, with a chessboard motif. Clean and polished, you can see your reflection on it.

The walls are clean, bereft of leeches, with a few ornate torches on the wall and a red wooden door at the end.

You move towards it and a voice can be heard, a female's voice, programmed, most likely.

Decontamination in Process! Please stand by...

That's when the upper ceiling opens and strange minute devices made of bronze emerge and sprinkle fresh water in a quick shower like motion for at least three minutes.

Then, they recede.

Decontamination Process Complete… Welcome! (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/newreply.php?p=18866981&noquote=1)

[Togo]

Pharis bobs his head.

Well, at least you have good taste. Yes, the Master is a very wise man. And yes, Sarjon is an unfortunate associate. Just half a glass ago he sent a hit squad to assassinate me. That's why I was late.

So, why did you want to meet me? And do you have any way of contacting Sedge? She is, unfortunately, also likely to a be a target.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: Myriam stands still as her amber eyes, concealing her face behind that ancient wooden mask, seem to pierce yours.

"I have been in your city for a few months already, Pharis. I did not grow in a city, and when I was sent to one, it was for very brief periods of time, but Halmathan…. there is something about it. Despite the oppression, corruption, Connor's cruelty…. your people still walk tall and proud. That alone is something to fight for, no? The every day hardships The Mercy suffers under poor excuses for crime lords like Sarjon. People like him make the fair folk in an already oppressed city feel even worse, yet, they still rise and fight in their own way."

Myriam paces around the trees and places her hand on one and immediately takes her hand off.

"You have trained your body to be a weapon, Pharis. But more than just that- you have the choice to be more. More than a betrayed clerk in a burnt down hospice. The actons that brought you under sarjon's employ can be easily broken- they are completely broken now, I am correct? Yet if I had to guess, you will not yet stand against him. Not alone at least. He has assassins with him now. No more mere grunts. You once served the king of this city, no? Show your loyalty if not to him, to the people he cares for. Because to sit idly by and do nothing withw hat you have, is the same as opening the door to scum and defile as they please…."

Myriam takes a few steps away and looks at you from the corner of her wooden mask.

"It is what Sedge would like for you to do. She and I met under peculiar circumstances as I tracked down someone worse than Sarjon, and she proved to be a valuable ally…and friend. If you really want to make a difference. get rid of sarjon. help the City. Make a name for yourself. what have you, stop hiding from these shadows. There are others who, as we speak fight a silent war against the true evils of this city. Join them, Pharis, or stand by the sidelines and watch halmathan burn…because it will."

Myriam takes out a scroll and deciphers it quiockly as a portal made orf swirling leaves opens adjacent to a tree.

"You will be kept safe here for a few hours. neither guard nor thug shall find you, of that I am most certain. When dawn comes again, meet a young man- Pyotr Marat, a revolutionary. Fiery. Passionate. Ignorant as to how to proceed. However, this young rebel can help you immensely and in turn, you can help him. He will no doubt be looking for a man in The Mercy, at the Bitter Coffee. You can't miss him- he would be the best dressed there. A nobleman by all accounts."

Myriam walks away as the swirling vortex if twigs and leaves revolves a few feet behind you.

"See you around… or not."

[Togo]

Pharis watches her walk away.

Peculiar woman. He look at the swirling vortex.

Ok, so an elf with rehersed speech was willing to wait in the dark for almost half an hour for me. So why am I so important to her? Because of Sedge? Because she really wants me to join this cause? That's certainly what she wants me to do next. Sedge thought it was a good idea for me to meet her, so... think like Sedge for a moment, she's a route to money, power or influence, or all three. Trade Sarjon's protection for hers.

He carefully edges around the vortex, examining it from the side.

So what are the weird points? She claims to know Sedge, and have discussed me, but she invokes her name and uses logic in a way that suggests Sedge didn't tell her too much about me. Appeals to pride, loyalty to the king, and a slight dash of revenge? Pretending not to care after going to all this trouble? Sedge wasn't going to tell her to do that.

He frowns. But that makes it less likely it's a trap. Or at least less likely it's a well-thought-out trap.

So, what do I want? Find Sedge, make sure she's not a target. No way I'm going to manage that in the middle of the night if I can't show my face in Mercy. Safer to put out some feelers tomorrow. After that... find out what this is about. A revolutionary who can't work out how to act against the city? Is that even possible? Both of those involve playing along, at least for the moment...

But what about what she's saying? Be true to yourself Pharis. What do you really want? Listen to your heart.

He pauses, a moment of calm passing over his mind and he focuses on what he feels most strongly. For a moment he is still, the light wind riflling through his hair.

I really really really want to see how this elven vortex works.

With a sigh, he steps in.

Spellcraft [roll0] to work out what the vortex is, then go in

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: Once Myriam has gone, you are left pondering many, many questions.

So Sedge knows this masked elf… your fiend may be a member of the Thieve's Guild, but she isn't like Sarjon, not by a longshot.

A young misguided revolutionary… and one that you ought to meet. Perhaps he is connected to the Mercy's Salvation? It is quite clear you cannot topple Sarjon on yur own, but if there is that old saying…

Strength in numbers.

With a lot more questions than answers, you look at the swirling vortex made orf leaves and twigs and raise an eyebrow.

A rope trick. A common spell used in the wilderness or away from cities by people who do not wish to be ambushed while they sleep.

Myriam must've given it an extra touch by adding leaves and twigs around it. Make it more natural, maybe…

You step in and lean against the nebulous wall that makes the confined space and look outside at the trees as your eyes go heavy and many, many thoughts go through your mind as slumber takes its toll…

The next day, you wake up on the soft overgrown grass in the Park, with several druids meditating several feet away. many on top of tree branches. others, taking tree forms as they allow birds to roots on them.

They either do not care you just popped oiut of some extra dimensional space or never saw it.

Then, your eyes are directed to the blue sky as one of Connor's Eyes in the Sky show a scene from last night as a ball of fire plummets towards the park, switching to another shot of you with your hand covering your face as the image then switches to a woman in pristly garb.

…and this is the as of yet unidentified perpetrator who attacked our fair city last night. We are on scene with Air Force Captain Danik, who actually stopped the attack...

The image switches to a man in military gear and a leather strap helmet with a pair of goggles raised over his head.

The guy looks at the screen and raises an eyebrow as a voice can be heard off screen.

You're on the air, captain….

Captain Danik looks to the left nd nods as he looks at the screen.

…Oh! Ok. We were patrolling the city skies about ten at night when a demon soared through the sky, with some rider. We gave the intruder the chance to stop, but he was just hellbent on burning down the park, so…we shot him. Yeah.

A female's voice can be heard off screen addressing the captain.

So you can identify the creature shot down as a demon, captain Danik?

The captain of the Air Force smiles stupidly.

Lady, it was as black as night, with hooves made of fire and wicked antlers… of course it was a demon. But we took care of it.

What of the rider? Was he identified?

Captain dank smiles again.

No need. We shot down that bastard with his demon before he could cause any more suffering to the good people. It's our job lady- to keep Halmathan safe.

The captain then looks closer at the screen and does a peace sign.

And a shout out to my boys in...

Then, the screen goes back to the priuestly lady seated on a desk.

And you heard it, folks- keeping the City safe, one demon at a time. Everyone have a lawful and Blessed Day...

[Togo]

Pharis rubs his face, as the image fades from the screen.

Who are those intended for?

He looks out across the park, beyond which the buildings rise up, like the edge of a forest, new and fresh under the dawning sun. First, go through his notes, make sure he's ready for another attack. And then...

Are there really people who think that demons roam the streets?

He sits under a spreading beech tree, fished an apple from one of the magical pouches on his belt, and bit down. If you wanted a story that everyone would believe, then a more obvious approach would be to blame social ills on magicians plotting against the city, link them to real events. Why link them to an abstract fear that doesn't materialise when you can link them to something real? Which means...

The point is not to convince people.

He takes another bite. Certainlly Connor didn't seem to be working hard to be popular. So why?

The point is to pursue the magical.

A vendetta? Or is there something else he's after? He frowns as he chews. He doesn't really have enough information.

So, do I want to join a revolution?

He didn't really understand the elf. She seemed to want him to talk to this Pyotr. But she wasn't sure about the reason. Pride, a desire to find a target for his training, revenge for betrayal, patriotism, laying it on thick, but no clear target. She made a point of dropping in the names of Sedge and Shigure, but clearly hadn't gotten much information. So, her interest wasn't him specifically. That left this Pyotr, or the cause itself.

He glances up at the lightening sky. Time to get to the Bitter Coffee and what this 'nobleman' had to offer. After reading his notes, and getting some kind of fresh disguise.

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: You lean against the beech tree and take a bite from the apple as you watch the morning news.

Are people do blatantly ignorant so as to believe everything they hear and believe the see? Preposterous.

You are now a dead man. A chance to change your face. And in doing so, a chance to gte back at Sarjon and his cronies…

But alone, your chances for success are minimal- strength in numbers, they say. They certainy applied that to you, so the same principle ought to work against them.

You change your face and walk down the streets and head for The Mercy, wary of any of sarjon's grunts who might get the jump on you.

If the numbers are right, Collection Day is a few days away, and that's when Sarjon's people will be spread out, shaking everyone down to the last copper.

You head to the Bitter Coffee and look around…


No nobleman here. Either Myriam's info was false, or this man never showed up, or showed up and left.

You do notice a bunch of thug like men- all bald, having breakfast as another walks in, armored and wearing a chain as he speaks to them and all lower their heads in what could be interpreted as prayer.

Nana Rose, omne of the Mercy's locals, geets you with a smile.

"Hello, stranger! Welcome to the Bitter Coffee. You;re a new face around here. What will you be having?"

[Togo]

Pharis is now dressed in slightly shabby and patched elegence of a student, clutching a thick scroll.

The answer comes by reflex. He'd observed enough studentsin his various trips to the academy to know some of the language.

Coffee, black, no shot?

He glances around.

I was supposed to be meeting someone here. Have they already left?

[AlanBruce]

@Pharis: Nana Rose serves you a hot shot of coffee and places the cup on the counter.

"On the house, stranger."

Then, you look around as the few patrons and inquire on someone you had to meet.

Nana rose looks around.

:"Everyone has to meet someone, no? I have no idea who…"

That's when you hear a boy shouting outside.

FOOD IN THE MERCY!

FOOD IN THE MERCY!!!


The elderly barista scratches her head as the few patrons leave the Bitter Coffee and indeed, once outside, you see a most unsual sight in this district.

A long line of people, old and young, in a semi perfect line.

At the end, a cart filled with groceries- vegetables of all kinds, fresh from the market, with a pig to boot.

Someone is actually helping these people by handing out free food!

Then, you walk around, cautiously and take a look at the benefactor.

A woman. A blue skinned woman with traverel's clothes and an ornate staff. A man helps distribute the goods as they all thank a "Miss Ke'era."

Through your new face, you also spot that elf who did you in the night prior, resting against the wall, away from the line of hungry petitioners.

A masked archer stands by his side.

It takes almost an hour for the cart to be empty and you decide to trail this woman, who hails a carriage as the man with her hauls the empty cart into the alleys of Halmathan.

You hail a carriage yourslef and find that the woman stops at Runestone Acvademy, as she enteres, a bunch of guards leave the place- Cuthbertine and Royal alike.

The woman is nowhere to be found, but you can spot someone.

Your old comrade, leitenant Trentil. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?400999-Shadows-of-the-Past-IC-11)