Hell's Vengeance IC

[n0ble]

The town of Longacre sits just outside the fringes of the Whisperwood. A few lights shine in the streets and windows, and the occasional snippet of conversation or laughter issues from open doors, but here on the outskirts of town, the night is quiet and dark. Sparse clouds scud across the sky, momentarily obscuring the dim light from the moon overhead. Theres a faint wind that blows across the assembled persons backs, then down across a scrubby field that is barely distinguishable under the starry sky, coming to rest before a darkened, fortlike compound hunches in the distance.

The lithe woman points to the Structure in the distance. Cimri. The girl is young, probably in her mid twenties by the looks of things, with a body somewhere between scrawny and wiring. Athletic, but not too athletic. Her face is vaguely almond shaped by wit more hard lines that round edges to it. Theres a crooked smirk her lips, in anticipation of whats about to happen. In one hand she holds her sap. The other grips a dagger firmly pointed at Louslik's Tannery in the distance.

“That’s it—Louslik Tannery. So here’s the job: We break in, sack Ol’ Louslik’s office, take whatever’s shiny, and get out before the sheriff shows up. If we get separated, meet back at the Ash House by dawn.” Dull moonlight glints across her dagger as she flicks it slightly upward in emphasis. “If you get pinched, remember: you’re mute. Keep your mouth shut, and I’ll handle things. I got assurances that we won’t take any blame if things go south. But get chatty and I’ll let you rot.” A beat passes as she maintain the crooked smirk. “If we don’t screw things up, we’ll all be drinking on Razelago’s coin come dawn. Any questions before we do this?”

[Farmerbink]

Barl eyes the woman with a flat stare. Yeah, what do we need all these louts for? he wonders. His lips curl into a smile that fails to reach his eyes- a feral expression, more hungry than happy. "Right, so if we're caught, 'tell em all you sent us. Got it."

Without another word, the Tiefling slinks into the darkness, towards the tannery. His dark green cloak proves its value almost immediately- in the moonlit gloom, it's impossible to tell precisely where the lithe not-man is, or whether he's standing still or moving from more than about 15 paces away. A jovial call wafts gently from his direction, "You're gonna miss all the fuuuUUUUuuuun!"

As he vanishes into the darkness, the Tiefling licks his lips. If these fools manage to not get caught, it'll be a wonder.

[3SecondCultist]

"Remind me again why we've chosen this establishment to steal from?" The speaker stands uncomfortably in the sphere of the half-dark, neatly coiffed hair starting to show signs of the road. To the casual onlooker, her figure is stunning, but up close, that beauty turns into an almost supernatural radiance. Not that anyone's admiring it here in the dark, of course, except for that fellow hellspawn. Phiarlyn's grey eyes flicker around the circle, trying to get a sense of everybody. The more perceptive of those watching her would have seen her unease from the moment they met up, although she hides it well beneath an outer poise. Even better hidden are the woman's unnaturally sharp nails, the only sign of her true heritage.

"As far as I know," Phiarlyn continues, "Louslik is simply a citizen of Longacre. As I understand it, there are plenty of dissidents and lawbreakers in this town. Why not steal from them?" Of course, it almost goes without saying that she finds the prospect of stealing to be somewhat beneath her. She could do a lot better than resorting to theft. But... well, given her situation, a bit of quick cash could be exactly what she needs to help her get back on her feet, so to speak. So her enhanced infernal eyes scan the compound, cutting through the pall of night effortlessly. Nonetheless, it's something of a lucky break that Phiarlyn spots the weak point in the palisade. "Before we go charging in, maybe we could try our luck over there? It seems like it would be less guarded. If nothing else, we could send someone in to get a better read on the terrain inside." This last part is directed at Cimri, as the nominal leader of this 'enterprise'.

I'll include a Diplomacy check to influence Staelish's attitude about the plan, if necessary.

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

She raised an eyebrow as Cimri spoke up. Razelago? That's the first I've heard the name. Her employer perhaps? Maybe there is something more to this then an opportunistic looting under the pretense of serving the Empire.

A young woman stood near the back of the group, carefully checking over her equipment to make sure nothing was out of place. She could have been considered to be conventionally attractive, if it wasn't for the alchemical scarring that blemished her face and other parts of exposed flesh. She was dressed practically, in a worn shirt and pants. She did up her medium-length hair in a ponytail, to make sure it wouldn't interfere.

She gripped her right hand with her left nervously, in an attempt to cover up her slave brand. It was a pointless gesture, considering both of her hands were covered with gloves. It was a nervous tick she developed from her time spent as a slave.

She really didn't want to be here, but with only seven gold coins to her name, Talia didn't really have a lot of options. It was hardly enough to sustain her for any extended length of time, let alone to give her the opportunity to flee the Empire. Now here she was, stuck in the ass-end of the Empire, with a bunch of cutthroats. She looked up at her supposed 'teammates'. The tiefling and the other men seemed relatively straightforward, common thugs out to inflict violence. The woman made her uneasy. Talia had seen more enough of her type to last for the rest of her considerable elven lifespan. Venomous serpents who practiced the backstabbing politics typical of the Egorian court. Despite their appearances, Talia regarded the woman is the greater threat, and made a note to never turn her back on her.


I'm sure if we look hard enough, we can fine some pretense to seize his wealth. Regardless, I can neutralize any witnesses long enough to make a quick getaway. My magic will be more then sufficient for that. She stressed the word 'magic' considerably. She knew that she looked out of place with this group of toughs and vagabonds, and she wasn't able to contribute any way in the planning up to the raid. She didn't want any of them to think her weak, and contemplate plans to cut her out of her share or do worse.

[NeoSeraphi]

Zatqualmie listens to the woman describe her plan. "Yes ma'am! If I get caught, I'll make like a slip who just got beat and shut up! But of course, it's better for us not to get caught. We must be a well-oiled machine, moving through the shadows. In and out before they even know we are there, like the ninja. What's that, you say? I can't be as quiet as a ninja? Shur-I-kan!"

He laughs at his own joke and draws his rapier. "No but seriously, let's hit them hard and fast. They won't see me coming."

[zimmerwald1915]

"Already took a look through there, ladyship." Griig had been standing, his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands clasped behind him, for nearly an hour since then, waiting for Cimri's others to show. Essal had curled up at his feet, but he was young yet. There was time to learn discipline. "Between here and the building's a big open courtyard. Torchlit, a little cover near the main gate. We'll have to gank the dog before it squeals, but if we go from downwind it shouldn't smell us coming. Not with the niff." Griig could smell the manure and mature tannic acid from here, but inside the walls it got much worse. Essal raises his head at the mention of one of his distant kin, and bares his teeth.

"As for why, the tree-monkey's got it right for once. Scratch a 'citizen' hard enough, you'll find an uppity climber thinks he's entitled to the stars. Folk like them should know their place, and it's not under the protection of the sheriff. If Razelago thinks we can teach it, I'll follow." With that, Griig stumps over to the loose section of palisade and squeezes through, Essal pawing close behind. If the others see his frame can fit, they should have no trouble.

Stealth [roll0]

[3SecondCultist]

Phiarlyn returns the little gnome's humor with a flat stare and an even smile, before turning to the hobgoblin with a modicum of surprise. He certainly knows what he's doing. Offering him a courtly bow, the negotiator-turned-criminal pulls out her mace and shield and follows both hunter and wolf through the gap in the palisades. Although a dozen comments spring to mind, now is hardly the time. If there are other defenders about besides the dog, she will need to be ready to defend herself.

Of the name Razelago, she says nothing. Although Phiarlyn hopes to meet this mysterious employer of theirs, she also suspects that Cimri values such information. They will know more when they need to know more, and no earlier than that. All in due time, I expect.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Talia didn't rise to the 'tree climbers' comment. Acknowledging the hob's insult wouldn't help her accomplish her objectives. Besides, such matters were beneath her. She was content to follow behind near the rear, all the better to let the others go first and trigger any traps, and to keep herself closer to the exit. She had no intention of practicing valor today.

[n0ble]

"Jabral's been holding out on taxes for the good mayor, leastways that's what Razelago told me. Means that we get to ah, 'liberate' the funds." She stops for a second listening to the gnome and hobgoblin speak. She replies to the gnome first, "Right, you look like a good little kidney shanker if ever there was one," before turning to face the hobgoblin, all business "Good, we'll use that then, don't know if the dog will be able to smell us but your right, the pooch has gotta go. Also, if anyone sees that dam tiefling again make sure to tell him to wait the f!ck up next time."

With that said, Cimri lopes alongside the rest of you as you make your way towards the gap in the palisade that Griig has pointed out. Now would most certainly be the time to cover your noses, given the hobgoblin's description of the smells. Cimri certainly does.

As each of you enters, the first and most obvious thing that hits you isn't what you see. It's the smell. Months of piss and sh!t have come together en masse in order to assail your nostrils in some sort of grand olfactory assault. Its enough to sicken someone. Indeed, Cimri silently retches under the cloth she's applied over her mouth. Apparently such a garment didn't make up for any bodily shortcomings in her case. "Geryon's scrotum. This better be f!cking worth it."


Feel free to make stealth checks as you go in to avoid the aforementioned guard dog detecting you right away :smallsmile:

Also, I'm going to ask everyone to make a DC 12 fortitude save to avoid being sickened by the stench. Those who cover their noses with a mask, handkerchief, or similar item gain a +2 circumstance bonus on the saving throw. Failure results in being nauseated for one round then sickened for the next minute as you acclimate to the smell of the tannery.

[NeoSeraphi]

Zatqualmie chuckles to himself. "This smells no worse than any stink bomb I've set off in my time. Now then, let's skewer up a shish-ka-dog." He darts out of the shadows and stabs the dog in the side.

Stealth went well, so I assume I get a surprise round.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Farmerbink]

Barl watches as the rest of the group comes in through the opening. Truth be told, if that other Tiefling weren't all-but hollering, Barl might not even have noticed the gap. Truth's never gonna be told, though. When the Gnome prowls up to the sleeping dog and plunges his rapier into its neck, Barl smirks. oh, he's gonna be fun!

Still, not much reason to announce one's presence inside a private establishment. For the moment, he simply watches and listens.

[3SecondCultist]

Doing her best to stick to the shadows, Phiarlyn covers her nose with a bit of cloth from her sleeve, wincing at the disgusting stench. The tiefling in disguise doesn't move to stop the little gnome from trying to get a sneak hit on the dog. Although she feels a pang of pity for the animal, it's hardly her fault that Cimri chose this establishment to 'liberate' of its funds. The woman's reason for coming here is sound, although she would have preferred to come up with a plan that didn't involve as many casualties. It's hard to send a message if all its recipients are dead.

Nonetheless, she knows why she signed on, what awaits her in Egorian, and why she needs to lay low for a while. Little jobs like this should help her keep a low profile, while giving her a bit of extra income to further her adventures until she can return to the Chelish capital. So she hangs back with the other tiefling, clutching her mace. If battle is about to break out, she needs to be ready.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Talia stood near the back with the tieflings, staying quiet. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. This place almost smelled as bad as Darien's laboratory. Despite her relatively frail constitution, her experience with foul-smelling reactants and other items involved in the alchemical process allowed to concentrate on her mission. She was able to step quietly, although she winced when she heard the clanging of her companion's armor. Why the hell did she bring metal armor when the objective was to sneak in without starting a fight? Keep it down! She hissed. Your giving away our location. She nodded in satisfaction as the dog was cut down. There was no longer any risk of it being a complication. Her magic could be conserved for more useful matters.

[n0ble]

As Zatqualmie plunges his rapier into the mastiff, it awakes with a sound somewhere between a tortured wimper and a snarl. As it gets up and starts barking, more of it's appearance becomes apparent in the light of the office. It's haunches and flanks are riddled with scars that look something akin to bite marks. And it doesnt seem all that afraid of the gnome before it. If anything the dog seems confident, in it's own canine way. An ex-fighting dog if ever there was one.

[NeoSeraphi]

Zatqualmie steps back in surprise when his blow doesn't kill the beast. "Well! That's quite a puprise. I don't suppose you'd rather talk out our differences over a bowl of tea? I've been told I have a rapier wit."

He stabs the dog in the flank.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

"I could go on, but I think you get the point."

[Rofltrollcopter]

That was terrible Talia muttered to her companions as she watched the gnome mess around with the dog. and that attack was pisspoor too. She stepped forward and muttered an incantation.


Standard action: Cast sleep (using 1 reservoir point to boost the dc)

DC 16 will save or the dog falls asleep.

[Farmerbink]

Barl groans silently as Zatqualmie takes to the dog with his rapier. He's not even using it right! With a melodramatic sigh, the Tiefling emerges from the shadows behind the wall. He dashes to behind the mastiff and grunts, "Wait 'till the stupid beast lunges at you. He doesn't know it, but he can't eat steel. Put it in his neck... now!"

Move to move to flanking with Zat
standard action to assist Zat's next attack: [roll0] vs DC 10 for a +2 bonus

[zimmerwald1915]

The smell is worse than Griig remembers. Upon passing through the gap in the wall, he clutches his stomach and leans against the close-planted wooden stakes, shaking his head furiously. Essal whines quietly in sympathy, but what really snaps Griig to attention is the baying of the dog. It didn't matter who had woken it; it has to be put down, now, before it can raise the whole compound.

Griig can't get a clear shot the way the others have crowded around the animal, so he draws his sword and steps forward, bringing it swiftly down on the back of its neck.

Stands around being nauseated.
Move 25 ft. south-west, draw longsword
Standard Attack the dog. 18 to-hit, 7 damage, both rolled in the Roll20 chat (forgot the -2 penalties for being Sickened in my rolls, but they're applied here).
Griig Slickears (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=732749)
Male LE hobgoblin ranger, Level 1, Init 4, HP 12/12, Speed 30 ft.
AC 17, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 17, Fort 4, Ref 6, Will 1, CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus 1
composite longbow (20) +5 (1d8, x3)
longsword +3 (1d8+2, 19-20/x2)
studded leather (+3 Armor, +4 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 10
Condition Sickened (-2 attack, damage, saves, skill and ability checks)

[3SecondCultist]

Although she doesn't partake in her own share of the violence against the previously sleeping mutt, Phiarlyn ensures that her mace and shield are up and at the ready for when the creature's barking attracts the tannery's owner. Furthermore, the words of a protective spell are not far from her cherry lips, in case she's under attack. It never hurts to be prepared.

Taking a position opposite the door of the house the dog was clearly guarding, the disguised tiefling gathers her voice and thinks of how to start this engagement. At this point, negotiations will probably be hampered. Fear will have to do. "Whoever is in there, come on out! We don't want to hurt you, but trust me when I say that we will have no compunctions burning this place down if we don't get what we're looking for." As she speaks, Phiarlyn's voice takes on a dark, almost melodic tone, as though she were the channel for some dark presence that looms over the yard.

Move action to move to current space, standard action to try and demoralize the house's occupant.

Intimidate: [roll0]

[n0ble]

Even as Phiarlyn's words ring out amidst the dog and the others fighting, they are met with silence. Even as the gnome skewers the mastiff with his rapier, the beast lets out another tortured yelp before growling and continuing to bark. Cimri, having loped forward once her stomach has settled into a modicum of comfort, tried for the same result as Zatqualmie, attempting to drag her knife along the beasts flank. Whether it's the smell or the fact that the dog's sense are alert enough, the mastiff manages to scoot slightly to the side, causing Staelish's attack to miss "Hold still you f!cking mutt, bad enough that this places smells like sh!t. I don't need some dumb beast trying to make my life ever worse."

But it's all a prelude to Griig's assault. As the hobgoblin's sword hammers down onto the dogs neck, it impacts with a sickening crunch, made all the more noticeable by the fact that it abruptly stops the dogs barking. The silence that follows is broken when Cimri spits on the ground before turning to the hobgoblin, a crooked grin plastered on her face "Nice swing, almost took the dam thing's head clean off with that one"

As you turn to take a quick scan of the tannery complex several things come into the view. The first is at least seven large containers holding some sort of liquid amongst them. To the right of the building you find yourselves standing around is a series of crates on a slightly raised platform, about a foot or so off the ground. But perhaps the most concerning aspect of the compound is the light coming from under the door that Zatqualmie stands in front of. Amidst the silence that replaces the dog barking, one can barely make out the sound of, brief, measured footsteps accompanied by a faster, more frenetic sound, a sort of dull clicking on the office's presumably hardwood floors. The latter is also accompanied by several lighter barking noises, probably coming from a smaller dog within.


So thats the End of Round 1!
Louslisk and his dog will be joining things next round.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Talia paused and ceased casting her spell, now that there was no target in range. Now what?


passing the turn

[3SecondCultist]

"Now we wait," Phiarlyn says to the other woman's question. "The owner should be out by now. Whether or not my message got through to him is a different issue." To be honest, she's surprised that they haven't seen hide or hair of them yet. In the intervening moments between her claim, the butchering of the dog, and whatever is to come, the oracle casts a protective web of magic around herself, wrapping herself in an invisible cocoon to ward off attacks.

Phiarlyn will be casting shield of faith this round, bumping her AC up to 21 for 1 minute.
Phiarlyn d'Avar (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=807093)
Female Lawful Evil Tiefling (Shacklespawn) Dual-Cursed Oracle, Level 1, Init 2, HP 10/10, Speed 20 ft
AC 21, Touch 13, Flat-footed 18, CMD 15, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 2, CMB +2, Base Attack Bonus 0
Heavy Mace +2 (1d8+2, x2)
Dagger +2 (1d4+2, 19-20x2)
Breastplate, Heavy Wooden Shield (+6 Armor, +2 Shield)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 19
Condition shield of faith (+2 deflection AC), 10 rounds remaining

[zimmerwald1915]

"You weren't so bad yourself." Griig sheaths his sword and makes a beeline to the closest piece of cover he can find. As he draws his bow and knocks an arrow he adds "Maybe save the celebration for when we're done though?" Essal thinks differently; the young wolf laps and nips greedily at the dead dog's seeping wound.

Griig Slickears (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=732749)
Male LE hobgoblin ranger, Level 1, Init 4, HP 12/12, Speed 30 ft.
AC 17, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 17, Fort 4, Ref 6, Will 1, CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus 1
composite longbow (20) +5 (1d8, x3)
longsword +3 (1d8+2, 19-20/x2)
studded leather (+3 Armor, +4 Dex)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 10
Condition Sickened (-2 attack, damage, saves, skill and ability checks)
Move sheathe sword
Move 25 ft. west, draw bow

[Farmerbink]

Barl pointedly ignores the incessant yammering, and trades his own rapier for his crossbow. He backs a few paces from the door and levels his weapon at it. His eyes narrow. C'mon ya bastard!

Barl Tenderson (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=780527)
M CE Tiefling Investigator, Level 1, Init 6, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 17, Touch 14, Flat-footed 13, CMD 13, Fort 1, Ref 6, Will 1, CMB -1, Base Attack Bonus 0
Rapier -1 (1d6-1, 18-20, x2)
light crossbow (20 bolts) +4 (1d8, 19-20, x2)
cestus -1 (1d4-1, 19-20, x2)
Lamellar cuirass (+2 Armor, +4 Dex, +1 Deflect)
Abilities Str 8, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 19, Wis 8, Cha 7
Condition Inspiration: 4/4
Erratic Malefactor: 1/1

Ready an action to shoot at the guy behind the door if he opens it armed.

[roll0] atk
[roll1] CC (23+)
[roll2] damage
[roll3] crit bonus

[n0ble]

Seconds pass as everyone rearranges themselves, the footsteps and frenetic scratching. Cirmi falls back, diagonal to Griig, knife firmly set in the direction of the office door. And then the door opens. The man who opens it is a big by conventional standards, and is possessed of an apron and large, heavy looking crossbow that he keeps at his side in one hand. The other occupant of the office is a small terrier that yaps angrily in the direction of the gnome standing before the door. As Louslisk steps forward, it appears as though he has something in the hand not holding the crossbow, which he casts forward to the left of Phiarlyn. At the same time, Barl's crossbow bolt surges forward, imbedding itself in the frame of the very door the tanner is standing in.

As the stone lands, the previous silence returns but for a moment. before the stone erupts into a bright flash of light, accompanied by a roar of sound.



Loulisk spends the turn of his arrival throwing his thunderstone to Phiarlyn's left (rolled a 20 on the roll20, beating the square's AC of 5). Both her and Zatqualmie must make a DC 15 Fortituide save or be deafened for the next hour. A deafened creature, in addition to the obvious effects, takes a –4 penalty on initiative and has a 20% chance to miscast and lose any spell with a verbal component that it tries to cast.

Archie the dog will have readied an action to attack the closest thing that tries to hurt his master, Louslisk.

[NeoSeraphi]

Zatqualmie's eyebrows raise as the explosion rings out. He ducks to the ground and covers his ears, but when he moves them, all he can hear is a lingering whirring sound as his eardrum attempts to repair itself. Shaken, Zatqualmie attempts to steady himself, though he is currently experiencing some vertigo.

Pointing his rapier back at the dog, Zatqualmie growls angrily and then barks loudly. "'Arf arf'! That's what you sound like, stupid! Dogs, am I right?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Talia winces as her delicate elven hearing causes her to suffer from the proximity of the blast. She breaks into a sprint and dashes in front of the office. Please stop fighting She cries out, doing her best to sound vulnerable and scared. Why are you trying to hurt me? While she does so, she mutters an incantation under her breath


movement: move
standard: cast 'charm person' on Jabral, using point from Arcane Reservior. He gets a +5 bonus since he is being threatened by Talia's allies, so its a DC 11 will save.

[Farmerbink]

Barl lets out a short curse. "Damn these fat fingers!" As he cranks the winch to ready another bolt, he looks aside at the odd Elf, and a wry smirk settles on his features. He steps back to make more space, and watches to judge the man's reaction.

delay. Perhaps ready an action to pew pew if the guy demonstrably passes his save.

[3SecondCultist]

Shaking her head futilely as the thunderstone hits its mark, Phiarlyn does not manage to get the insensible ringing out of her ears. Damnation! It's bad enough that this lout did not reply to her overtures, but for him to deafen her like this? Well, that demands a reply. Her defenses are up, and her weapon is at the ready. Since diplomacy will not win the day, she finds she must opt for violence instead. Charging into the fray next to the little gnome, Phiarlyn raises her mace so that if the magic of the arcanist fails, she'll be able to strike against the man.

Phiarlyn is deafened, but she's already cast her buff so she's going to move up and ready an attack action against Jabral in the event of him resisting Talia's magic. If possible, she'll also delay until after Barl's ready, so that he doesn't take the -4 penalty for shooting into a melee.

Readied Attack: [roll0] for [roll1] damage (crit confirm: [roll2])
Phiarlyn d'Avar (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=807093)
Female Lawful Evil Tiefling (Shacklespawn) Dual-Cursed Oracle, Level 1, Init 2, HP 10/10, Speed 20 ft
AC 21, Touch 13, Flat-footed 20, CMD 13, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 2, CMB +2, Base Attack Bonus 0
Heavy Mace +2 (1d8+2, x2)
Dagger +2 (1d4+2, 19-20x2)
Breastplate, Heavy Wooden Shield (+6 Armor, +2 Shield, +2 Deflection)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 19
Condition Deafened (-4 Perception, no hearing, 20% verbal spell failure)