It's a Mad Mad World

[PallentisLunam]

http://i1380.photobucket.com/albums/ah184/Pallentis/World%20Campaign_zpse6vw5jmr.png

[Syless]

The night she obtained the Shield was one of sheer panic- she spent the night thinking the assassin would go after her next. By the time the sun rose, the mixture of a lack of sleep and a reduction in fear led to unmitigated excitement- her life was amazing for the first time! She had a special purpose! One, admittedly, that was likely to end with her death, but at least it would have been a heroic death instead of a boring one. In the early hours of the morning she ran to awaken her friend Syed, telling him all about what happened that night, and what she has to do from here. He wished her the best with a wistful smile, right before she collapsed from excited exhaustion.

She woke up later that afternoon and laid her hands on the shield once more, which now whispered into her mind the truth of its power, and how to wield it. She sank into prayer to Heironius, calling upon the power He wielded, and felt a kind of... radiance flow into her. And for the first time, she felt like she could do something amazing. Donning her guard's gear and wielding the Shield in her hand, she set out on her grand task, trying to find the Cult of Hextor she had been sent against.

[PallentisLunam]

Walking through the streets of Herth this morning is unlike any other morning in Vessa's life. Not just because of her new found purpose though. The city is different. With the shield on her arm the world has a shimmering celestial quality, and she realizes with just the most cursory gaze she can see past the physical and into people's souls. Even in the light of day, shadows linger in the hearts of some.

Vessa's wonder at all of the new sensory sensations is suddenly broken when someone a distance behind her barks her name. "RECRUIT AELYRA! TEN'SHUN!" The crowd jumps and people immediately scurry out of the way as an officer of the watch dressed in the finest raiment the city has to offer stomps over to stand in front of the young woman. Vessa's stomach rolls as Sgt. Narret steps into view. He is her direct superior on the watch and known for being a hardass. Powerfully built Narret stands at an impressive six foot, three inches tall, meaning he towers over the younger guard.

The man's dark mustache bristles and his jowls shake as he begins to dress down his subordinate right in the middle of the city street. "ARE YOU AWARE THAT YOU FAILED TO REPORT IN AT THE END OF YOUR SHIFT YESTERDAY? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT FAILURE TO REPORT CONSTITUTES IN MY BOOK?! DERELICTION OF DUTY, THAT'S WHAT!" he roars. The Sgt. only then takes notice of Vessa's shinny new bit of gear, "AND WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING CARRYING NONREGULATION EQUIPMENT?!"

Anvil is striding across the bottom of a lake, thereby cutting days off of his journey compared to walking around it, when he receives a sending from Mechanus with his latest orders. Contract Violation. Type: Peace Treaty. Parties: City-state of Metze, City-state of Avendorf. Belligerent: Former. End Transmission."

[Syless]

[QUOTE=PallentisLunam;21472471]Walking through the streets of Herth this morning is unlike any other morning in Vessa's life. Not just because of her new found purpose though. The city is different. With the shield on her arm the world has a shimmering celestial quality, and she realizes with just the most cursory gaze she can see past the physical and into people's souls. Even in the light of day, shadows linger in the hearts of some.

Vessa's wonder at all of the new sensory sensations is suddenly broken when someone a distance behind her barks her name. "RECRUIT AELYRA! TEN'SHUN!" The crowd jumps and people immediately scurry out of the way as an officer of the watch dressed in the finest raiment the city has to offer stomps over to stand in front of the young woman. Vessa's stomach rolls as Sgt. Narret steps into view. He is her direct superior on the watch and known for being a hardass. Powerfully built Narret stands at an impressive six foot, three inches tall, meaning he towers over the younger guard.

The man's dark mustache bristles and his jowls shake as he begins to dress down his subordinate right in the middle of the city street. "ARE YOU AWARE THAT YOU FAILED TO REPORT IN AT THE END OF YOUR SHIFT YESTERDAY? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT FAILURE TO REPORT CONSTITUTES IN MY BOOK?! DERELICTION OF DUTY, THAT'S WHAT!" he roars. The Sgt. only then takes notice of Vessa's shinny new bit of gear, "AND WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING CARRYING NONREGULATION EQUIPMENT?!"

Vessa is caught in something of a waking dream as she sees the world around her anew- a dream broken when she hears Narret's booming voice, causing a reflexive salute. As he starts dressing down, she squeaks and slowly withdraws behind the shield. "I- um- well- magic shield- er- it was-" She takes a deep breath, then speaks more coherently, if still quietly. "I, um, don't suppose you'd believe me if I say this is a holy shield and Heironius sent me on a sacred quest and I just forgot in all the excitement and chaos?"

She starts thinking about everything she forgot in her head, and it's a remarkably long list. One she's done panicking here, she has to go apologize to her parents for forgetting to bring them breakfast, and she needs to return that book, and she needs to actually eat something herself... heroing is very disruptive of a normal schedule.

[Nettlekid]

Confirmed. Will rendezvous with plaintiff party military camp, learn terms of treaty, negotiate ceasefire, apprehend perpetrators, establish protocol to prevent relapse. End transmission.

Anvil revs his gears, the water around him churning as he does so. Criminals breaking the rules of engagement in war, detestable. There is never a good war or a true winner of a war, but when backs are to the wall then military combat may be the only way to ensure a semblance of peace for the future. The establishment of a peace treaty means that mortals can stop shedding blood and live out the rest of their short lives having fought for their nation, for good or ill. But for one party to violate the established terms, and reignite that bloodshed? There would be consequences.

If Metze was the offending party then the first thing he should do, Anvil decided, is investigate the situation in Avendorf. He would need to learn both sides of the story before this was finished, naturally, but be injured party's side would be the one to bare the nature of the transgression more plainly. In addition, if Avendorf was being thrown into a position in which inaction would cost innocent lives then Anvil felt the obligation to step into the fold and minimize the cost of the dishonest combat.

Of course, somewhat easier said than done. The Material Plane is so weird and non-uniform; you can tell where you are anywhere in Mechanus by the radial motion of the gears, but the tectonic plates under these continents is far less cooperative. Anvil would have to enlist the aid of the locals in directing him. He had passed through a village not long ago; they would be able to direct him. He looked above him, judging how far into the water the sunlight overhead pierced. It's dark enough, he decided. Gears whirring, the shrouding darkness enveloped him, and Anvil was gone from the water. The mechanical man touches down onto the Plane of Shadow, and mentally readjusts himself to the eerie, shifting world around him. If the Material Plane was erratic, this reflected mockery was outright maddening. But he could work with it. Taking steps that covered more ground than they should allow, he began to sprint through the shifting Shadow Plane to quickly close ground until he reached the closest town.

Hoping that the endpoint of his trip doesn't shunt him too far from the center of town, he emerges from the Shadow Plane and looks around. His goal is to find either a general store that would have traders knowledgeable about the routes from one city to the next, or any kind of official's building which would contain maps and other geographical information.


[roll0]
Also if you could tell me how many miles I just travelled with Shadow Walk, that would be good. I can go up to 600 miles per day split over three uses.

[PallentisLunam]

"NO I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU IN THE SLIGHTEST!" Narret bellows. "HOLY QUEST MY BOOT! YOU'LL BE RECEIVING TWO DEMERITS! STOW THAT THING AND REPORT TO YOUR STATION AT ONCE! DISMISSED!" The big man storms off down the street as it grows more and more crowded with early risers.

Make a spot check

The shifting dark passes all around Anvil, shapeless and chaotic, as the hum of his gears and the pounding of his feet disturb the eerie, muffled air. After exactly 16 minutes and 39 seconds, according to Anvil's perfect internal clock, the inevitable spots a coalescence of grey amorphous lights. Turning towards them he begins to shift back to the Material Plane.

Anvil's hopes are not answered as he appears in the middle of a wide paved road, emerging from the shadow of a horse and rider. A man on horse back gives a shout as his mount rears and unsaddles him. With a sickening crack the man falls to the ground. The horse gives a whinny and bolts off down the road. Rolling on the ground and clutching his elbow the man spits curses through gritted teeth, "Ye' daft bastard! Where did you come from?!"

The town is some few hundred yards distant, located on the intersection of two large roads in the middle of a wide plain. To the west lies the Long Lake, the body of water that Anvil was traversing.

You traveled about 180 miles

[Nettlekid]

You said that I travelled for about 17 minutes, but that I covered 180 miles? If it was 180 miles then I would have had to travel for about 3 hours, since my speed while Shadow Walking is a mile a minute.


Anvil is momentarily surprised when he hears the commotion burst out around him as he reappears onto the Material Plane. This kind of thing happens occasionally, but not overly frequently. Although he feels concern for the man on the ground, his Inevitable heart isn't greatly shaken. The situation he has to deal with is more pressing, and considering the implications of a breached peace treaty any delay may lead to unnecessary death. Unfortunate though this man's current situation is, it is far from life or death.

First things first. The horse is gaining distance, and it would be inconvenient for the man to spend time injured searching for it. Anvil quickly looks it over to see if if the horse appears to be carrying anything fragile that would break if the horse were to collapse to the ground.

If not, Anvil clenches his fist and strikes the air, sending a shockwave down the path and hopefully careening into the horse's side. Anvil does not pour his heart into the attack, thus keeping his burning hot Gauntlets of Heartfelt Blows inactive, but the strength of his strike should be enough to knock the horse out without doing it any lasting damage. It would recover to consciousness in a few hours.
Attack: [roll1]
Nonlethal Damage: [roll2] and 1 Con damage, superficial cuts presumably.

If the horse is carrying anything valuable, Anvil will let it go as described below.


Anvil prepares to strike at the horse to knock it out, but realizes it would not be the best idea at this time. In the easiest circumstance the horse will return to its master after a time, and if not then tracking the beast would be simplicity itself, and Anvil would return here to do so after investigating the town. He watches as the horse runs off, keeping an eye out to gauge its general direction and path.
Spot: [roll1d20+42


Once that's done, Anvil turns to the man on the ground.
"My apologies. I am on a mission which necessitates haste, and my mode of travel is occasionally startling to lesser mortal creatures."
Anvil will make an untrained Heal check to gauge the man's injuries, not taking more than a few minutes to do so.
[roll3]
He expects a sprain or perhaps a fracture, nothing terribly serious. He'll also take a moment to make an ocular patdown as he does so, checking to see who this man might be. A farmer, a solider, a merchant, something of that nature? And to gauge both the man's attitude and strength. If he's more frightened than belligerent then he is likely not very powerful.
Spot: [roll4]
Sense Motive: [roll5]

"It is my intention to reach that town and receive directions on travel to the city state of Avendorf. If there are priests in the town I shall direct them to your situation here so that they may heal you. If they require payment you may inform them that as the cost was incurred by an Inevitable on duty then they may seek restitution from the Modrons of Mechanus. This is a verbal contract issued by a Kolyarut, not to be taken lightly. Under other circumstances I would stay to right this small injustice myself, but as I delay lives may be lost."

If the downed man has nothing particularly gripping to say after this, Anvil will begin to sprint (240 ft/round) toward the town in the distance to get the information he needs and make good on his promise of getting help.

[PallentisLunam]

Anvil knocks the horse cold with ease. The man in the road suddenly realizes that the cause of his misfortune is no mere man and becomes deathly pale. "What are ye!" he says with fright as Anvil applies basic care to his arm. At the Kolyarut's promise he says, "Ah have nawt te faintest idear wha any o dat means." When anvil sprints away his clockwork feet pounding like pistons the man goes to his horse to check on it. "Maybe time ta lay off the spirits," he mumbles running his good hand over his face.

In town Anvil is greeted by many stares and whispers. The place is rather small, really just a collection of boarding houses, brothels, and a hub for local farmers to sell their crops, however it is located on a major north-south road at the head of a highway that runs east. As such it has just the sort of maps Anvil needs to orient himself. Avendorf is almost due north. The journey would take nearly a month for a mortal trade caravan to traverse the distance but it shouldn't take Anvil more than two or three days at the most.

Asha swings futilely at the swarms of midges and flies that buzz lazily around her waiting for their next meal to stop moving so vigorously. After the third hour of squelching along a narrow game trail through a stinking bog towards the latest rumored hideout of her target she curses wizards, warlocks, and sorcerers of all stripes. Why do they have to pick such remote place from which to terrorize the world? Nobody worth hunting ever sets up in the attic of a nice inn where a hot meal can be had in peace before getting down to business.

This latest target had quite the reputation. Not only is he an accomplished mage, but he is also a skilled thief. Although a rather terrible whittler. Asha remembers the pitiable little carving her quarry had left in the parlor of his latest victim. Her mind wanders to the comfort of that bustling port city that she left almost a week back. A rather noisy place, its nobles were kind and generous, but they were also plagued by a thief who could, if the rumors were to be believed, walk through walls, disappear in a flash of light, and most disturbingly steal a man's heart out of his chest.

When it became clear that magic, rather than the wild imaginations of sleeping guards were involved, the nobles got together and called on the Unblessed. An investigation expert was sent in with Asha in tow as the muscle. This arrangement quickly became Asha going out every few days to search further and further afield for the culprit, while her less athletic superior stayed in a nice cushy room at the Yellow Rose. And now here she way investigating some godforsaken swamp near the mouth of some damned river.

Her thoughts break off at the sight of a small dilapidated stone cottage. It didn't look like much, but then there is usually more than meets the eye when it comes to mages...

[Syless]

"NO I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU IN THE SLIGHTEST!" Narret bellows. "HOLY QUEST MY BOOT! YOU'LL BE RECEIVING TWO DEMERITS! STOW THAT THING AND REPORT TO YOUR STATION AT ONCE! DISMISSED!" The big man storms off down the street as it grows more and more crowded with early risers.

Vessa tries to open her mouth and protest, but she hesitates and the moment is lost, Narret disappearing into the crowd. She bites her lip. It would be an embarrassment if she gave up on her quest just because her boss yelled at her... her former boss? Would it be right for her to just walk out? She could do the hero-by-night thing, but the lack of sleep really wouldn't help... not to mention she'd be broke. The heroing thing is hard. She almost wanted to just run off, hand someone else the shield, go back to her normal life... but at the same time, the thought of giving up the only interesting that will ever happen in her life terrified her.

So the decision was made. To go to her station. To resign. And to set to work on her true path.

[Jormengand]

Asha looked around at the cottage. Hmm, brilliant. This might be the first useful thing I've found all week. Or it might be nothing. But she was willing to be hopeful.

She snuck forwards, trying to scope out what she could of the cottage without having to go near it. Defences, weak points, doors, windows, and anything that can be seen through the windows were her main priority, alongside anyone in or around the house. She grabbed her longbow, ready to take aim at anything that wanted to hurt her.

[Nettlekid]

Anvil's first objective is to locate a church, or at the very least some kind of shrine where a preacher offers healing and prayer. He would prefer a church of a god dedicated to justice and law, like Saint Cuthbert or Heironeous, but will settle for one that appreciates general altruism like that of Pelor or Ehlonna, and only if this town contains none of those will he settle for the more capricious sort like Corellon Larethian. If none of these are available then he will fall back on a Cleric of Fharlanghn that he expects will be blessing the travellers that pass through this trade town.
Gather Information: [roll0]

Assuming he finds one, he will enter the establishment.
"Forgive the intrusion," he begins, regardless of whatever congregation may be in attendance, "but through regrettably careless actions on my own part a man has sustained minor injury on the road several hundred yards beyond the edge of town. Based on my unprofessional analysis he is not in immediate harm or danger, but his arm is damaged and his horse passed out. I would like to formally request that a member of your clergy, no higher a rank than acolyte is necessary, make haste to the edge of town to heal his wound and resuscitate his horse. By my eye, a few castings of Cure Light Wounds should suffice. I would expect that a member of your church is willing to extend this act of charity by virtue of the vows you take in respect of your god alone, as declining the opportunity for altruism is counter to your deity's nature, but if you deem it appropriate that restitution be made for your services then you may contact the Modrons of Mechanus to receive payment either in the form of liquid assets or a promissory note of services to be rendered by myself or another Kolyarut at a later date. I believe this should suffice to rectify the situation. I request that you make haste to minimize the man's suffering. I again apologize for the abruptness of this request, and I assure you that I would accompany you if I was not already on urgent business. Thank you and good day."
If they seem reluctant to comply, Anvil will be lacing his quick monologue with his Suggestion SLA, Will DC 17.

Feeling content with this, Anvil will now find map shops and chart his course to Avendorf. He ponders the route. Two or three days to cover the stated distance is good, but he wonders if he can't do better. He reminds himself that a broken peace treaty means that every minute can very well be a death, and it would be a grave injustice for a family to be broken if he simply takes a scenic route.
"Cartographer!" he calls out, to whomever owns and/or makes the maps. "I appreciate you allowing me to view the routes over the land. If this is indeed the swiftest path I can take then I will have to manage with it, but I wish to inquire. This is a trade town - are there any magic-user capable of casting a Teleport spell in the borders of the town? I anticipate not, but I must ask. If not, then is there a metropolis within a two day journey as taken by a charging horse in which I might find a spellcaster of that caliber? If I can travel there and gain passage that way, I will reach my destination more swiftly than if I merely run now."

[dascarletm]

It is the dead of night, and a lonely carriage rides into the sprawling city of Volgrad. The carriage is painted black with silver adornment and ornamentation which almost matches the two gray horses pulling it. A single driver spurs the horses onward as he hold his tricorn hat, coattails whipping in the wind. As they travel along the cobbled road into the city, they detour, traveling deep into the seedy underbelly of Volgrad.

A man steps out, six feet in height, with medium-long black hair which falls straight, yet haphazardly. His clothes are that of a noble, regal yet functional. He turns to the driver, "Thank you Sergei. I will meet you at The Frozen Maiden. Hire the usual girl" Sergei nods, knowing exactly his role, yet asking no questions as to why. He was to go to the upper-class establishment, and hire Valentina. He was to pay her twice her usual rate to wait in the room for him. Come morning he will have snuck in, and she would say he was their the whole night. Plenty pay, for a good night's rest.

Alexi walked briskly into one of the dark and narrow alleyways. He faded into the shadows, and when he emerged several blocks away he no longer resembled the man of high birth. He was The Candlelit Assassin. Head-to-toe dressed in all black, not an inch of skin showing. A porcelain white mask stood out noticeably with its featureless, emotionless face, starkly contrasting the red, eyes of a cold blooded killer.

Under a rock near the old fountain of the dwarven district. Alexi recalled his brother Metav telling him. He reached the spot, and approached the rock. He turned it over to see...

[PallentisLunam]

As Vessa turns in the direction of her guardhouse, resolve settling in her soul, she notices a woman in the crowd paying particular attention to her and her shield. The two make eye contact. Her observer has the expression of a startled deer and turns to bolt down an alleyway.

Creeping closer to the house through the bog Asha has to suppress her desire to wave the endless swarm of biting flies out of her face. The air fairly dances with the clouds of tiny insects. Once she has crept to within about thirty feet of the small island of dry, make that drier, land that the building sits upon, Asha finally gets a better look at it.

The structure looks like a small family dwelling as a farmer or a rancher might build and inhabit, but Asha knows that this swamp has never been inhabited by anything except reptiles and insects, at least in living memory. The house itself is in terrible shape. One wall has collapsed, the door is rotted and fallen in, and the roof has long since sloughed off into a nearby pool of putrid water. Though the hot sun beats down from on high turning the swamp into a veritable sauna of stench, inside the ruined house is dark and still.

Among its other more base establishments the town boasts a few small chapels and shrines. The gods of law and order seem to be in rather short supply but there is a temple of the sun to be found. The Pelorite Mother in charge seems to be as unflappable a lady as there ever was. She listens calmly and attentively to Anvil's words and then bows deeply to him. "We live to serve this community," she says straightening up. Putting fingers to her lips she gives a sharp whistle and a young man of about seventeen or eighteen years comes skidding into the main room.

"Yes, Mother Constance!" he says nearly her opposite in every mannerism. He is disheveled with a nervous and excited energy.

"Take the wheelbarrow and head down the south road," she commands. "There you will find an injured man and his horse. Tend to their wounds using what grace is given you."

The young man seems positively ready to burst with enthusiasm and doesn't take the slightest notice of Anvil before dashing out the front door. Mother Constance bows once more to Anvil and the Inevitable has the distinct feeling that though he was already turning to go he has just been dismissed by this blessed matron. "Walk always in the light," she says.

The surveyor is a fat man with a handsome grey mustache and a balding head. He is dressed in fine silk clothing with a gold chain hanging from his collar to a breast pocket. He walks over to the map Anvil gestures to and pulls a pair of tiny spectacles out of his pocket by their tiny chain and sets them on the very end of his nose. He hems and haws through his mustache as he examines the map and responds to Anvil's queries. "Ahh, well naw, ya see sonny, this here's jus a itty bitty little municipality, ya know. We got us a couple o' mages round abouts but nobody near that paw'rful. 'Nd ya don't wanna be pushing yer horse at a gallop for days at a-" The man pauses and looks up at Anvil for the first time noticing he is metal rather than flesh. "D-d-did you j-just say run?" All color drains from the surveyor's face. The man blusters and stutters, "I-I-I-.... Umm-

He doesn't seem like he is going to be any help

Hidden under the rock, in a convex hollow is a scrap of paper. On it, written in a secret language of runes known only to a few is just a name, but a name is all that is necessary in this case. Jaromir Perunev

Images flash through Alexi's mind, Guildmaster, Extortionist, Whoremonger. Jaromir is a prominent figure in Volgrad society. Renowned for his debaucheries, Jaromir is also head of both the carpenter's guild and the hospitality guild. He runs every inn and controls all of the major construction projects in the city, and makes people pay dearly for his services. He maintains pleasure houses all over the city and on any given night might be residing in any one of them. He has several body guards at within shouting distance at all times. He is a dangerous man but not untouchable, and his time has run out.

[Syless]

As Vessa turns in the direction of her guardhouse, resolve settling in her soul, she notices a woman in the crowd paying particular attention to her and her shield. The two make eye contact. Her observer has the expression of a startled deer and turns to bolt down an alleyway.

Vessa's response to the woman is no more composed. She just stares as the woman starts to run, then stumbles after her, trying to keep up, drawing her shield and keeping a hand on her hilt in case the woman is attacked by evil or is evil herself. Or both? Maybe both. "Come out, everything will be okay, I promise!" No sense in making immediate accusations. Things might be safe. Maybe.

[dascarletm]

Reading the name, Alexi folds the paper up, and puts it in one of his pockets. He slips back into the shadows thinking, This may be better served as Alexi for the time being.

In a dark alley The Candlelit Assassin enters, and out another Alexi Kovak. He travels to the pleasure house he would be meeting Valentina, The Frozen Maiden, no doubt owned by Jaromir. He enters, greeting one of the girls. He bows to her, and inquires, "My fine lady, I am Alexi Kovak. Would you be so kind as to fetch the matron of this house? He smiles kindly and kisses her hand, giving a subtle wink as he does.

[Jormengand]

Asha sighed. No sense in trying the long-ranged method, then. She put her bow on her back again, then grabbed her chain-sword and walked into the building, checking first for anyone hiding there, and second for anything out of the ordinary - notwithstanding the whole fact of there being a ruined cottage there at all.

[Nettlekid]

Anvil does not care to continue the conversation, as he recognizes it will not be fruitful. Although the effort he put in was good, he can tell it might easily take more time to find a spellcaster powerful enough to transport him than it would be to run the distance himself. And so he leaves, and takes off. He runs at a full sprint as often as he can, only slowing down when he needs to navigate underbrush or anything that would cause him to stumble. If he comes across any mountainous regions or any kind of clear impediment to his travel he will Shadow Jaunt at that time to bypass it, but otherwise he's actually quicker if he can run at top speed on the Material Plane. He's willing to continue doing this for several days.

[PallentisLunam]

After a brief, frantic chase through the winding back alleys of the city Vessa rounds a corner to see an apparently empty dead end. The sounds of the busy morning streets are far away, echoing strangely down the stone walls of the maze of narrow side streets. Her words have a hollow, dead tone as they bounce back at her. The alley is empty except for a grate at the far end that leads to the city's sewage system. A mildly unpleasant scent lingers in the still air.

The pleasure house is a den of spectacular opulence. The facade is of fine white marble carved into the shape of beautiful men and women. Two large men wrapped in luxurious furs open the black stone doors. Inside Alexi is immediately recognized and the concierge opens an interior door bowing low and gesturing the noble through. In the main room ornate tapestries cover the walls and beautiful rugs sprawl across the floor. Handsome woodwork flows all around. Dark polished stairs lead upwards to private rooms. A thin, fragrant smoke fills the upper reaches of the high vaulted ceiling. All around is a sumptuous buffet of flesh. The room is filled with girls wearing everything from elegant ballgowns to tiny strips of velvet with gold and jewels hanging from them to nothing at all. Barrel chested men with arms like pythons stand in pairs near the main doors and at the foot of the grand staircase clad in nothing but vests and loincloths. Clients, both male and female, are scattered about the place, drinking and chatting.

The girl Alexi approaches curtsies and turns her head in a flirtatious manner while flashing him a coy smile. "Of course, Mi'lord," she says and flounces off. A few brief minutes later the girl returns with the matron in tow. Where all of the girls, lounging about on silk couches are beautiful, the matron is absolutely stunning. If the girls' clothes can be described as fine and alluring, the matron is dressed as a stately queen among her handmaidens. All of those belonging to the house turn towards the lady and bow as she passes before returning to their previous activities, whatever they were.

With an imperious gesture the matron dismisses the girl who gives Alexi a last hungry look up and down before giving him a soft wave of her fingers and going to lay on a couch near the fire. "Baron Kovak," the matron says in a voice as smooth as pouring honey and she curtsies deeply, "I am Danica Mikosh, lady of this house and your humble servant. Is something not to your liking?"

As Asha approaches the decrepit hovel the whole scene shimmers as if underwater and changes. The cottage is no longer a rundown ruin. Instead it is sturdy, whole and well-built. The stone walls are free of ivy or creepers. The glass panes in the windows gleam in the sunlight. A thin wisp of smoke trails from the chimney. Inscribed on the front door are arcane runes. When the transformation is complete the runes warp and twist into a face of sorts with a bulbous nose, thin squinting eyes, and an over-sized mouth. "Congratulations," the face says, "You have stumbled upon the abode of Gulliman the Rogue, Illusionist Extraordinaire. Your are being watched. Leave now, or die. You have ten seconds."

Requiring neither rest nor sustenance Anvil thunders across the intervening leagues between his current location and his final goal. He sticks to the road for the first day passing through a narrow plain with a dense forest on his left and a small marsh on his right. As the quarter moon rises and the stars wink into being far above the clockwork man shows no signs of slowing. The next morning, as the sun peeks over the horizon, Anvil comes to a sprawling desert waste that extends for miles and miles in every direction. Unperturbed Anvil trusts to his internal workings to find his way through the trackless dunes and salt flats. As the sun begins to dip back below the rim of the world the desert sands begin to give way. At about the middle of the second night Anvil arrives at the rocky shores of a great inland sea. Here he is finally forced to flit through shadows deeper than those of the mortal world to keep his course straight and true.

As the shining moon reaches its peak at last Anvil stops. He stands upon a spur of stone overlooking the Bay of Avendorf and the city of the same name. All around the great stone walls of the settlement the ground is black. Anvil's eyes click and whir magnifying the light and scene before him. An army has been here. The crops have been burnt. The land has been salted. The grey walls of the port are blackened with soot. Fires burn within the walls, but not fires of destruction, fires of war and retaliation.

[Syless]

After a brief, frantic chase through the winding back alleys of the city Vessa rounds a corner to see an apparently empty dead end. The sounds of the busy morning streets are far away, echoing strangely down the stone walls of the maze of narrow side streets. Her words have a hollow, dead tone as they bounce back at her. The alley is empty except for a grate at the far end that leads to the city's sewage system. A mildly unpleasant scent lingers in the still air.

Vessa crinkles her nose at the scent. "Well... I guess it's time to make a poor decision. Another one, anyway." She draws her sword and touches it to her shield while saying a small prayer, causing it to glow softly. Taking her now-enchanted sword, she attempts to pry open the grate, sacrificing her cleanliness in hopes of chasing her only lead. Rather literally, it seems.

Casting Greater Magic Weapon.

[dascarletm]

"Oh no, not at all. Everything is perfectly to my liking, and that is why I have asked for your presence." Alexi pauses, looking around and taking in the delightful scenery.
"As you know doubt know, I have been coming to this fine establishment for quite some time. I confess Valentina is a vice I cannot seem to do without. Your..." Alexi seductively steps a bit closer to the matron, "hospitality, has been so first rate that I am almost speechless."

Alexi clears his throat, placing his handkerchief up to his lips. "Though not speechless enough that I cannot express my gratitude. I would like for you to direct me to the owner of this fine place, so that I may tell him personally of my gratitude."

He smiles and realizes something, turning his expression to that of embarrassment. "My apologies, I was so overcome with the splendor in front of me," he motions at the matorn, "that I forgot entirely to ask your name. Please excuse my rudeness."

[Nettlekid]

Anvil looks over the distasteful scene.
A swift and thorough defeat by the look of it. I suppose a nation with an existing peace treaty has no need for a standing army to prepare for counterattack. The desolation of it though, this is...excessive. This isn't the result of a conflict where one nation seeks to subsume another for land and resources, this is about baseless destruction. To what purpose? Sending a message? I will have to understand the steps that led up to this outcome.

Leaping down from the spire, Anvil will either run down any road leading to the outer walls of Avendorf or use his Boots of Gravity to "fly" across the river. Either way, upon arriving on the outer barrier he will use his Etherealness ability to blink onto the Ethereal Plane, cross the border, and reappear in a (comparatively) safe and open space. His first step is to scan the area for any survivors in need of immediate aid, such as civilians trapped under rubble or stuck in a burning building.
Spot: [roll0]
His second step, if no one is in immediate danger, is to approach the closest nearby villager who seems to be in a position to help him (that is to say, skipping over anyone in obvious panic or an otherwise incomprehensible state.)
"Good evening, I apologize for the interruption," he will begin, "but it has come to my attention that the city-state of Avendorf has been the recipient of hostile military tactics sparked by a broken peace agreement. Please direct me to whoever is currently standing as your chief of military? Or if you cannot, please direct me to someone who can."
Gather Information: [roll1]

[PallentisLunam]

Merely touching the now mightily enchanted sword to the mundane iron bars of the grate causes sparks to fly as the magically sharp sword slides through the ordinary metal like a hot knife through butter. In moments all of the bars fall down into the damp reeking sewer-pipe with a clang and a hiss. What was at first simple an unpleasant smell now becomes a putrid stench as the foul water steams and boils around the red hot pipes. Looking down, with the grate removed, Vessa can see that the pipe has a shallow stream of disgusting water running through it. She also notices that the pipe is only about two feet in diameter. Not quite a tight squeeze but also not terribly roomy.

"A man of your station is incapable of rudeness I'm sure, your grace," the matron repeats not allowing even the suggestion of annoyance to creep into her words or expressions, she is far too skilled a negotiator for such things, besides all manner of intoxicants pass freely through her house and although she sees no obvious signs of the Baron having partaken in such things she knows that some men are better at hiding their vices than other. Of course, he might just be a fop, she thinks to herself deep behind her carefully guarded, pleasant mask.

However none of these things pass unnoticed for Alexi who in addition to being a cold blooded killer is also a shrewd man. "My name is Danica Mikosh, and you will have to forgive me for denying your request, my lord," she says with another deep curtsy. "I would grant it were it in my power, but the master of this house is a busy man, and busy men must indulge themselves in revelry, else they lose their edge. Alas, tonight the master indulges I know not where, except that it is far from here. If you would like, I could present convey your sentiments to him the next time he graces us here?"

Torches light the battlements every forty feet or so. Anvil notes that the rulers of this place are unfamiliar with the art of war. Not only are their own sentries blinded by the lights but their gleaming armor makes them standout in stark contrast to the inky night sky. Even human eyes would be better served by the moonlight than these burning twigs. Despite being awake and alert the lookouts fail to notice the lone intruder who walks right through their line.

Anvil winks back into physical being beyond the wall in one of the few intersections that doesn't have a fire burning in the middle of it. Here it is dark and quiet with the clatter of mailed feet and barked orders drifting over the rooftops. The city stands in stark contrast to the land outside their walls, unspoiled. A quick jaunt through deserted streets and Anvil comes to a large square where a company is drilling. The company seems to be about a hundred men and women in four platoons performing skirmish maneuvers. The commander is standing on a crier's platform on the near edge of the square observing the drill.

At Anvils words the commander turns sharply. Drawing his sword he blows a sharp blast on a whistle which brings the fighting to an immediate halt and causes his troops to form up in one solid block at the center of the square. "What manner of trickery is this now?" he barks at Anvil stepping back towards his unit. "Some kind of assassin from Metze come for our Duke? You'll not get far!"

[J-H]

Alcibad

A smiling 9 year old boy - or possibly a thin and young halfling, who can tell? - approaches the gates of Suzdal, a powerful city-state that rules the countryside for three days' ride in all directions. It's late spring; the weather is warm, the skies are cloudy, and it has been a whole two days since it rained. The eastern road into town has a stone surface that's barely muddy, and many carts are taking advantage of this to travel in and out.

The boy walks along, dressed as the son of a prosperous peasant or artisan might be dressed for a day in town in his second-best clothes. He has a heavily laden backpack, topped off with a dozen apples picked the day before.

Alcibad has concealed his two daggers inside his clothes, and his short sword rests along his spine, covered by his clothing and the bag. Only a very thorough search would conceal the small vials of poison secreted inside his canvas pack.

If any horsemen, soldiers, or adventurers pass him while he's walking along, he'll watch them with outward awe while he tries to detect their thoughts (Will DC 16 to prevent, CL 18 per SRD entry).

He will attempt to simply walk into the city; the guards can't be paying that much attention to every traveler without causing a line and a major ruckus.

[dascarletm]

Alexi frowns for a second, but quickly moves back to a pleasant demeanor. "Revelry? Surely there is not such a place more fine than this establishment? If there is, I would demand I hear of it!" He chuckles as if suggesting his demand was just a jest, yet not fully a jest. "If you are holding out on... pleasures, I would be appalled. Surely there is something we can do to fix this." He smiles at her, but flashes a look to his coinpurse, hinting he is willing to pay her.

[PallentisLunam]

Nobody gives the child a second look as he passes through the wide city gates. The wall is high, strong, thick, and masterfully worked. The gatehouse has a pair of strong doors each fronted by a portcullis with about twenty feet between them. Spilling both inside and out of the gates is a tangled bazzar of brightly colored tents with merchants hawking all manner of wares.

The clamor of the city is overlaid with the casual thoughts of those who pass under Alcibad's gaze. None of them are of much consequence. Most of the people's thoughts are of their plans for the day, some are of their families or friends, a few glance at Alcibad and think of him but none draw the shapeshifter's concern. On of the guards at the roadside has a passing though that he hopes the boy will stick close to the gate so that the man might purchase an apple or two from him when he gets a break. Others seem to have similar thoughts they know, or guess, what is in his pack and think that the boy is there to sell produce from a family farm. Perhaps from a tree he has tended and harvested all on his own.

Inside the walls the land rises on a gentle slope all the way to the palace spire which sits high overhead, a point from which a man may observe all that goes on down in the city below.

[J-H]

Alcibad

After he passes through the gates, the boy passes the guard post and then moves to the side, opening his pack. He pulls out four of the apples, carefully closes his pack, and then starts juggling the apples as he comes back to the guards. "Copper for an apple?"

If they buy, he'll stop juggling and pass the apples over. "My pleasure, sirs. It must be boring standing here all day, or do you get to see lots of exciting people come in? Is that armor hot? Mum said to watch out for pocket-pickers in the city, so I keep my coppers tucked in my belt!"

He'll continue to scan for interesting thoughts, especially in response to his prompts about boredom, interesting entries to the city, and criminals.

[Nettlekid]

Anvil shakes his head to dismiss the man's remarks.
"You are understandably ignorant of planar phenomena. Please seek a local arcanist for further information as to my nature. I am a Kolyarut of Mechanus, enforcer of contracts and agreements. A great crime was committed when the peace treaty between your nations was violated, and I am here to ensure that it is reinstated and that the parties responsible for this breach receives appropriate justice. I infer that this 'Duke' is your current leader. Please take me to him."

[Syless]

Merely touching the now mightily enchanted sword to the mundane iron bars of the grate causes sparks to fly as the magically sharp sword slides through the ordinary metal like a hot knife through butter. In moments all of the bars fall down into the damp reeking sewer-pipe with a clang and a hiss. What was at first simple an unpleasant smell now becomes a putrid stench as the foul water steams and boils around the red hot pipes. Looking down, with the grate removed, Vessa can see that the pipe has a shallow stream of disgusting water running through it. She also notices that the pipe is only about two feet in diameter. Not quite a tight squeeze but also not terribly roomy.

Recoiling in disgust, Vessa once more looks at the task ahead of her. It's not too late to give up... but that'd just be embarassing, giving up because of a smelly sewer. She looks down into the pipe, looks behind her, looks down, looks behind... and jumps down into the pipe, moving as fast as she can within the limited space, hoping to get away from the stench before it permanently stains her everything. It would be kind of pathetic if she had the shield for all of one day before making it smell like sewage forever.

[Jormengand]

"Screw you, Gulliman the Rogue. Glory to the godless, death to the deathless!"

With that, Asha pulls out her crowbar rushes up to the door and body-slams it before trying to pry it open with the crowbar, still gripping her weapon in the other hand, ready to fight whoever's inside.

[roll0] Strength

[KingFrog]

*Tink* *Tink* *Tink*

The sounds formed the whole of Jacob's existence for a time that he could not demarcate.

*Tink* *Tink* *Tink*

Slowly, so slowly, memories began to return, and finally thought. He was Jacob, dubbed a heretic by his own people for attempting to free them from the cruel servitude the Gods demanded. He was old, so old, that he worried he was running out of time to complete his task. That must be why his limbs felt so heavy and stiff. He rose unsteadily, finding his equilibrium after a moment of imbalance on inflexible feet. Sight had returned, but something was wrong: everything appeared in shades of black and white, color seemingly expunged from the world. This was disconcerting, but unimportant: any damage to his eyes would be irrelevant once he finished his Grand Work.

*Tink* *Tink* *Crack*

Only the interruption in the staccato rhythm at the door brought it fully into Jacob's awareness. Just at the edge of hearing, he could make out soft murmurings in some unidentifiable language. Turning to shout an angry demand that these interlopers leave him in peace, Jacob felt a stab of panic: he couldn't breathe! A few frantic, lumbering steps brought him closer to the door before he realized that he also felt no discomfort from being able to breathe.

As his calm returned, he was dimly aware that the sounds outside had ceased except for what might be whispers or the slow settling of dust. Inside his chamber, he considered his surroundings for the first time since his awakening and noticed the dessicated, withered body in the Redsalt septagram. More memories crystallized and he knew by the tattered blue hem on the robe and the missing left hand that the body was his own... had *been* his own. The next thing to strike him was the scale of his surroundings: everything seemed small, insignificant (and nothing more so than the husk with which the gods had sought to confine him at his birth). A great, booming laugh like the clanging of the war gongs of the Azure Heirarch's Fidelitous Army rang though the small room, shaking dust from the ceiling and Jacob's new body as he admired the fine metalwork which had consumed so much of his mortal life.

*kkkkkkkkrrrrrrrrrr*

Jacob's rapture was interrupted by the sound of the stone door creaking, grinding against its disused mechanisms and permitting the first sliver of true light. As color returned to the world, Jacob stood motionless, as though we were a suit of armor on display, and waited to see what interlopers dared violate his inner sanctum.

[PallentisLunam]

Hunting horns echo through the forest as Remulus plunges through thick underbrush, thrashing and clawing his way along. Still the baying of hounds follows, never getting any further away. Striking a river the Lepper Knight sprints upstream. Panting hard he knows that even his strong lupine body cannot keep this pace for long. How had they even found him? It doesn't matter now, they're getting closer. Remulus can hear the shouts of men, the screams of their horses.

The guard that Alcibad first marked waves him over and holds out a copper. At the child's stream of questions he holds up a hand. "You shouldn't advertise where you keep your coin, kid. Even if it's just a little bit." Alcibad sees an image of a child who resembles his current guise pass through the man's head, his son, Jaren. Then, at the mention of criminals, there are flashes of less pleasant sights. "Stick close to the market and you shouldn't have any troubles," he says. "Now get lost. Before you get me in trouble."

The guard turns back to his duty. Alcibad can see running through his mind a disorganized jumble of flashes, but the main one that sticks out is, Better a boring day on the gate than terrifying night in the warehouse district.

She leans forward and walks her fingers up the front of Alexi's jacket while at the same time pushing his hand away from his coin. "I would not rate any of the other houses in the city above my own," Danica says at once both proud and alluring. "But, the master of the house has a duty to make sure that his other holdings are up to the proper standards. I heard a rumor that The Midnight Silk ran short of, certain indulgences."

Whoops, can't believe I did that :smalleek: Changing the leader's speech color as of now.A robed woman steps out of line and whispers in the commander's ear. He gives her a sharp look but nods and she runs off through the streets. Before she passes out of sight her feet seem to meld into the ground and she speeds off even faster kicking her legs in a graceful fluid motion.

Turning back to Anvil the commander sheaths his sword. "I don't understand all of this about arcanists and planes, but what gives you the authority to meddle in the affairs of our state? If you have come to lend your sword to our cause then, if you are as powerful as the mind-mage claims, I am sure you will be welcome. Provided, of course, that your services do not come with strings attached."

The putrid water instantly soaks Vessa's clothes beneath the steel links of her shirt. She is forced to belly crawl through the grime and sewage. With her face down near the water she can see signs of somebody passing through the pipe going southeast. The slimy deposits on the bottom of the pipe have been scraped away. Shortly, after about thirty miserable feet, the smaller pipe joins a larger one. The upside is that Vessa can stand here, hunched over, but on her feet. The downside is that there is more sewage and half a dozen ways her quarry might have gone. Three other small pipes leading off the main one are visible in the light of Vessa's sword. And then the woman might have gone either way up or down the large pipe. The water is fast moving enough here to prevent the tell tale build ups that lead her here.

The door splinters under Asha's weight, but as it flies open the runes of the face ignite and a gout of flame blasts Asha with arcane fire. Inside the house is a small room, about twenty feet by fifteen feet, with two doors in the opposite wall leading off of it. There is a fireplace on the right wall with some low embers smoldering in it. A rug in the middle of the room is spread over the polished wood floor. On the left is a small table and chair with a few sheets of parchment spread over it.

"See wha'd I tell ya!" a dwarf, stout even by the standards of his people shoves the great door open while looking over his shoulder. "Any magic that might've laid on these ruins has long since washed off. All that's left are pretty little baubles that silly nobles will pay king's ransoms for. Easiest money ever made my boys." He stops when he spots Jacobs old bones and his new body. "Ahh, poor sod," he says doffing his steel cap as he approaches the bones. "Looks to have been sealed in here alive. May the gods have mercy on 'im." Then turning to the suit of armor he pops his helm back on his head and beckons to the workers clustered apprehensively at the grand door. "Come on, come on, we haven't got all season. Look at it," he gestures up at the suit of armor with both hands. "Adamantine, lads. That there hunk of metal is worth its weight in gold to the right buyer! We've stuck the big time we have.

[J-H]

Alcibad

Alcibad memorizes the guard's face and appearance for later use, and heads into the market area. He moves to one of the wealthier areas and finds a corner where he can sit and observe people for a while. He watches for thieves, pick-pockets, and con-men while nursing an apple.

[Jormengand]

Asha puts back her crowbar and instead takes out her flint and steel, casually setting fire to the parchment without attempting to read its contents or even move it into the fireplace first, then if this is successful, swings at the nearer door with her weapon, careful to stand outside the domain of any further fire traps.

[Nettlekid]

"I wield no sword, and I care not for your cause," Anvil replies dismissively. "You have a duty to your master. I have a duty far greater than yours to a master far greater than yours. Your master that I requested audience with, and whom you are not currently informing of my arrival. Gaze upon my face and body and know that I am beyond your world and your capability for understanding. Know that my purposes are alien to you, and the differences between yours and mine span chasms. By virtue of experience and accomplishment alone you may well consider me a superior officer, which means that if you have any respect for the structure of military law you will obey this direct order and bring me to see your master who is issuing commands and responding to the broken peace treaty. I may be immortal but I prefer not to be kept waiting. I suggest you take action and bring me to your superior posthaste."

Anvil does not want to be kept waiting and yanked around by this muscleheaded fool. If his sharp tone doesn't get the point across, he'll be trying a Suggestion (DC 17) to make him do it anyway.

[dascarletm]

Seemingly content with being at the best establishment in town, Alexi says with a sigh of relief, "Good, I am glad no other establishment outshines this wonder. I will have only the best you see. Now, I mustn't keep our good girl Valentina waiting. Thank you for your help, er..." He pretends to struggle with her name, pausing for a short moment as if trying to recall. He finally continues, "Good Madam."

Alexi smiles, and only half-waits for her response to finish before heading back up into his room. However, before he reaches it, when not being observed he slips out a window or other means of exit. Once outside he slips into the guise of a unimportant fellow. Using his shiftweave to don common traveler's clothes, and disguising his face to someone similar, yet distinguishably different. He goes out in search of "The Midnight Silk."

If he doesn't know where it is he will ask around at taverns.

[KingFrog]

Jacob

"ZZZzzzzZZZZZ," the sound filled the room as though an enormous bee occupied the suit of armor. Slowly, the sound modulated itself into something approximating speech. "ZzonZ of z'toen," Jacob emitted the sounds, acclimating to the demands of speech in his new form. "Sons of stone, you have been away from this dwelling for many years. In entering this chamber, you have freed me from a death of the mind. For this, you have earned a boon, where in ages past you would have earned only your undoing. You seek metal such as this, thou sons of stone?," gesturing to his darkly gleaming form, "Then I shall guide to you to the vein from which I was forged. This mountain home of your long dead cousins, also, I give to you; an egg has no more use or significance to the newly emerged."

While he speaks, Jacob looks over the newcomers, carefully noting any signs of religious or earthly authority from which he might be able to identify their allegiance.

I know Jacob wouldn't actually be able to recognize any of those sigils, if they even exist, so long after his own time. He doesn't yet know how long he slumbered, though, as the closed, dry and cold air of the chamber resulted in a kind of mummification of Jacob's original body.

[Syless]

The putrid water instantly soaks Vessa's clothes beneath the steel links of her shirt. She is forced to belly crawl through the grime and sewage. With her face down near the water she can see signs of somebody passing through the pipe going southeast. The slimy deposits on the bottom of the pipe have been scraped away. Shortly, after about thirty miserable feet, the smaller pipe joins a larger one. The upside is that Vessa can stand here, hunched over, but on her feet. The downside is that there is more sewage and half a dozen ways her quarry might have gone. Three other small pipes leading off the main one are visible in the light of Vessa's sword. And then the woman might have gone either way up or down the large pipe. The water is fast moving enough here to prevent the tell tale build ups that lead her here.

Every step means holding back a retch as Vessa proceeds through the sewers, and she nearly crumples down when she sees the openings. Trying to muster what little resolve she has left after trudging through sewage, she tries to focus and see or hear if there's any indication which pipe the woman may have fled down. If she fled down here at all. Vessa was starting to wonder.

Rolling Listen and Spot to see if anything is obvious.
Listen- [roll0]
Spot- [roll1]

[igordragonian]

Hunting horns echo through the forest as Remulus plunges through thick underbrush, thrashing and clawing his way along. Still the baying of hounds follows, never getting any further away. Striking a river the Lepper Knight sprints upstream. Panting hard he knows that even his strong lupine body cannot keep this pace for long. How had they even found him? It doesn't matter now, they're getting closer. Remulus can hear the shouts of men, the screams of their horses.

The guard that Alcibad first marked waves him over and holds out a copper. At the child's stream of questions he holds up a hand. "You shouldn't advertise where you keep your coin, kid. Even if it's just a little bit." Alcibad sees an image of a child who resembles his current guise pass through the man's head, his son, Jaren. Then, at the mention of criminals, there are flashes of less pleasant sights. "Stick close to the market and you shouldn't have any troubles," he says. "Now get lost. Before you get me in trouble."

The guard turns back to his duty. Alcibad can see running through his mind a disorganized jumble of flashes, but the main one that sticks out is, Better a boring day on the gate than terrifying night in the warehouse district.

She leans forward and walks her fingers up the front of Alexi's jacket while at the same time pushing his hand away from his coin. "I would not rate any of the other houses in the city above my own," Danica says at once both proud and alluring. "But, the master of the house has a duty to make sure that his other holdings are up to the proper standards. I heard a rumor that The Midnight Silk ran short of, certain indulgences."

Whoops, can't believe I did that :smalleek: Changing the leader's speech color as of now.A robed woman steps out of line and whispers in the commander's ear. He gives her a sharp look but nods and she runs off through the streets. Before she passes out of sight her feet seem to meld into the ground and she speeds off even faster kicking her legs in a graceful fluid motion.

Turning back to Anvil the commander sheaths his sword. "I don't understand all of this about arcanists and planes, but what gives you the authority to meddle in the affairs of our state? If you have come to lend your sword to our cause then, if you are as powerful as the mind-mage claims, I am sure you will be welcome. Provided, of course, that your services do not come with strings attached."

The putrid water instantly soaks Vessa's clothes beneath the steel links of her shirt. She is forced to belly crawl through the grime and sewage. With her face down near the water she can see signs of somebody passing through the pipe going southeast. The slimy deposits on the bottom of the pipe have been scraped away. Shortly, after about thirty miserable feet, the smaller pipe joins a larger one. The upside is that Vessa can stand here, hunched over, but on her feet. The downside is that there is more sewage and half a dozen ways her quarry might have gone. Three other small pipes leading off the main one are visible in the light of Vessa's sword. And then the woman might have gone either way up or down the large pipe. The water is fast moving enough here to prevent the tell tale build ups that lead her here.

The door splinters under Asha's weight, but as it flies open the runes of the face ignite and a gout of flame blasts Asha with arcane fire. Inside the house is a small room, about twenty feet by fifteen feet, with two doors in the opposite wall leading off of it. There is a fireplace on the right wall with some low embers smoldering in it. A rug in the middle of the room is spread over the polished wood floor. On the left is a small table and chair with a few sheets of parchment spread over it.

"See wha'd I tell ya!" a dwarf, stout even by the standards of his people shoves the great door open while looking over his shoulder. "Any magic that might've laid on these ruins has long since washed off. All that's left are pretty little baubles that silly nobles will pay king's ransoms for. Easiest money ever made my boys." He stops when he spots Jacobs old bones and his new body. "Ahh, poor sod," he says doffing his steel cap as he approaches the bones. "Looks to have been sealed in here alive. May the gods have mercy on 'im." Then turning to the suit of armor he pops his helm back on his head and beckons to the workers clustered apprehensively at the grand door. "Come on, come on, we haven't got all season. Look at it," he gestures up at the suit of armor with both hands. "Adamantine, lads. That there hunk of metal is worth its weight in gold to the right buyer! We've stuck the big time we have.

Remulus

How did Remulus ended up like that?
The tears under the mask frozen into his black coal fur. He didn't had spots- just pure black and yellow eyes. Fearsome look even among gnolls.
But he weren't gnoll! He were a knight, a Duke!
Remulus didn't even had the luxury to grief over his father.
Run run run.
The gnollish side of him were thirsty for blood. For flash. Why should he run away like a dog?
Remulus fell on one knee, growling.
No!
He won't give in! His father trusted him. He trusted him so much, that despite everything, he gave him the title. Not just because he gave an oath when he has adopted Remulus.. no.
""Remulus keep setting an example of conquring your demons- as the Duke Of Volkvolf." he said. Remulus prayed to the gods of the light, to give him just a bit more of self control.. just a bit...
What Roland and Romilda seemed to lack. Remulus never wanted the title. He wasn't even a politician... but who would be worthy of the title? Roland who has used such vile action as attempting to frame him?
Remulus didn't knew what to do, but he couldn't give up.
Not yet.
But the hunger, rage and fear were growing, enhancing his feral instincts. He shaked his head and gotten up.
The chase end here.

Remulus pulled from his bag, a colorful hat.
"I'll lie.' Remulus told himself.
"I'll lie, to avoid spill the blood of my brethren.' he explained to himself. He wore the hat who changed a bit, and also used his disguise kit. He attempted to look as poor sick knight with rusty armor and weapon, and torn clothes.
He leanded on a tree, panting after he has finished.



kit+2
Hat+10
Skill mod+2
[roll0]

[PallentisLunam]

Alcibad wanders through the city, guided by bits of thought stolen from the minds of those thinking about their own journeys through the winding roads. Eventually the shapeshifter finds his way, inward and upward, to a wide road lined with beautiful glass windows looking in on shops selling rich outfits and fine jewelry. Highborn couples and wealthy merchants or artisans walk the street. Some look at Alcibad's guise with pity, others with disgust, but all have the same thought, he does not belong there.

Finding an out of the way corner Alcibad is able to hunker down and avoid the notice of most people. They are too busy with their shopping and cavorting to notice a small, poor boy and his apple. In a short while Alcibad notices that there is a man who keeps walking the same section of road, alone. The doppelganger is very good with faces, naturally, and is certain that the man has passed him several times, always close behind a couple or group. But, every time he passes the man is wearing a different outfit.

The thin, dry vellum pages take the spark with very little effort. Spidery, flickering flames begin to spread over the tabletop. The left door is made of thin, soft wood. It is unlatched and swings open silently on oiled hinges. Beyond is a tiny bedroom. A simple bed, table, and wardrobe are all that adorn this room. A half melted candle in a brass holder rests on the bedside table. The wardrobe is closed.

The captain's face takes a grim set. His scowl betrays him. He will not be helpful. Anvil's suggestion changes his tune. "My superior," he scoffs spitting on the road. "Not hardly, but I do suppose dealing with you is above my station. I'll take you to see the Duke, but you cannot go armed. You don't carry a sword. What about other weapons? Will you consent to be bound?"

"Enjoy," Danica says with a sultry smile. As Alexi passes up the stairs one of the bouncers gives him a polite nod. Irt is a simple matter for the nobleman to slip, unnoticed, out of sight, through a window, and down to the street below. Passing quietly though warm, starlit streets, Alexi makes his way across the city towards the other brothel.

Not a soul is aware of Alexi's presence unless he wishes it, and as the pale sliver of the moon shines down through the light cloud cover he reaches a shadowy alley across from The Midnight Silk. Jaromir is definitely in attendance. There are goons on the front door, not the beautiful kind always employed by the pleasure houses. There is also an ornate, some would say gaudy or ostentatious, carriage pulled up beside the building.

The Midnight Silk is three stories tall, made of coal black stone. Faux columns, carved with swirling clouds of smoke and waving banners, are carved into the walls every twenty feet or so. Large square windows are set regularly between them. Infiltration shouldn't be a problem.

Jacob sees nothing of apparent religious significance. The work crew is made up of members of several of the common races. Mostly dwarves but there are several humans and a few halflings mixed in as well. All are wearing simple, protective clothing and carrying tools. None but the work boss seem to be at ease. They creep forward en mass, half hunched over, jumping at shadows.

When Jacob speaks all of the members of the work crew cry out in alarm, drop their tools, and flee out the door and back up the passage as fast as their legs will carry them. The leader's response is a bit more collected. He snaps around and raises a gloved hand, pointing it at Jacob's metal chest. An arcane inscription glows on the palm and runes of fire dance in the air around his hand. "Aaaaand... who are you?" he asks, clearly more curious than scared.

The burble of sewage echoes in the reeking tunnels. The stones shimmer in the light of Vessa's sword. Her eyes give her no clues but her ears pick up another low murmur mingling with the sounds of running water. Voices. Two of them. Upstream. And something isn't right about their words. The language is common Vessa is sure of that, but the words are slurred, sibilant, she can't quite make them out.

Moment's after Remulus puts the finishing touches on his disguise hunting hounds burst out of the underbrush. Their noses aren't fooled by the gnoll's disguise. They race towards him, baying and howling. They begin to jump and snarl at him just as the pursuing knights break through the trees. "Back!" the lead knight calls out. "Wolf! Blu! Heel!"

A squire performs a speed dismount as another knight rides up to grab his now riderless mount's bridle. The young man runs up and grabs the dogs by their harnesses. "Good ser," the leader calls from horseback. He seems repulsed by the diseased appearance of the knight before him. He is utterly fooled by Remulus' disguise, "My men and I are hunting a traitor through these hills, the murderer of the Duke of Volkvolf, his fiendish adopted son, know as the Lepper Knight. Have you seen him?"

[J-H]

Alcibad monitors the man's thoughts, certain that he must be a pickpocket or other thief. He's interested in knowing if the man works alone, or if he has partners or a superior.

[PallentisLunam]

Alcibad feels an unexpected resistance when he casts his gaze over the man. A barrier easily swept aside but nonetheless troubling, and then the man resists his probe. The noble stops and shudders, despite the warm sun. Glancing around with narrowed eyes the man does a quick scan of his surroundings. Seeing nothing terribly out of place he does a sharp heel turn and strides off quickly in the opposite direction of the group he was most recently tailing.

[J-H]

Alcibad

The boy follows the man at a distance to see where he goes. When the crowds are dense, he subtly shifts appearance several times, so that over the course of a couple of minutes he has gained four inches (which changes his gait), a tan, and substantially darker and curlier hair. He wants to see where the man goes; when the man stops and enters someplace, Alcibad will continue past.

If they head to a substantially different area of town (slums, etc.), he will reconsider his strategy.

[KingFrog]

Jacob

"A name, yes....." Jacob considers briefly before deciding against giving his true name. Names were things of power, and he had no desire to lose his new, ageless life. However, lies were also things of power, and it would be an ill omen to begin a new life with untruth. He settled on a middle ground, an obfuscating truth. "You may call me Adamant. That was the name which I earned. And you, my stalwart friend, when your companions are not fleeing like sparrows at the sight of a cloud-shadow, what do they call you?"

Jacob waits a moment for the dwarf to respond, then continues, giving him little time to get out more than the requested name before gesturing to the display of magical talent or gear, Are you a student of the wyrd?" The word was pronounced clearly, but seemed simultaneously to have been 'word' and 'weird.' Seeing no sign of recognition on the dwarf's face, Jacob continues, searching for the word he had heard the gifted among the sons of stone use.... "the.... Keth'Kadren, the Runelore, was it called?"


The Wyrd, Keth'Kadren and Runelore are all just words that denote the study and use of magic from Jacob's own time, if that wasn't clear.

[Jormengand]

Asha sighs, and knocks open the other door in the same way.

[Syless]

The burble of sewage echoes in the reeking tunnels. The stones shimmer in the light of Vessa's sword. Her eyes give her no clues but her ears pick up another low murmur mingling with the sounds of running water. Voices. Two of them. Upstream. And something isn't right about their words. The language is common Vessa is sure of that, but the words are slurred, sibilant, she can't quite make them out.

The thought to try and sneak up on the mysterious voices occurs to Vessa, but she hasn't the slightest idea how to not be heard sloshing through the sewer water. So she takes the opposite tack, and charges right towards the voices, hoping to reach them before they flee, her sword tilted away to not seem hostile and her shield before her.

[igordragonian]

Remulus\

Remulus panted, and coughed.
"I.. am not.. sure.. I'v seen some scary fella running.. that way.' he pointed right.

[Nettlekid]

It's times like these that Anvil has to call back on his inner tranquility, remind himself that ignorance is a virtue to the unenlightened, and that mortal lives are worth protection even when they try desperately to convince him otherwise.
"I carry no weapon save for my body itself. I will allow you to bind me only because it will not hinder me in the slightest. For this reason it would be prudent for you not to do so, to stop wasting our collective time, and see my purpose through. I will not be delayed further."

[dascarletm]

Seeing opportunity to infiltrate the establishment, Alexi shifts to the clothing and guise of The Candlelit Assassin. He pulls his porcelain mask from his haversack, and dons it with respect and adoration, carefully adjusting it perfectly so that no skin is visible at all.

Sticking to shadows and cover he attempts to enter the building through an unwatched window, careful to make sure none notice him.

[PallentisLunam]

The man weaves quickly through the throngs of people. He seems alert and wary of his surroundings. He wends and winds and doubles back on his own trail more than once obviously worried that he is being followed. His eyes pass over Alcibad more than once but each time there is no recognition. It takes the man half an hour to go about half a dozen blocks away from where Alcibad first brushed against his mind. After the first ten minutes the shapeshifter notices something. Every once in a while as the man passes someone his hand darts out and back, always empty to begin with and always with a glint of gold afterwards. He is obviously a masterful pickpocket and only prolonged observation has allowed Alcibad to pick up on his pattern.

Eventually the man makes his way to a brothel and, after a quick whispered word to one of the scantily clad women on the porch, he ducks inside. Alcibad is able to catch a quick flicker from her mind, "Quintus." The man's name and it is accompanied by an urgency, a sense of danger.

"Adamant..." the dwarf mumbles to himself, lowering his hand as Jacob continues speaking. Then realizing he has been asked a question he replies, "My given name is Stahl-" He appear to be about to launch into his genealogy as dwarves are wont to do when introducing themselves for the first time when Jacob interrupts with his question about Stahl's gifts. The dwarf scratches his head and as the smell of singed leather fills the room. "You're lucky I'm a historian, Master Adamant. That's as old a name for the craft as is remembered even among my people. I've kin, and elders mind you, who wouldn't know to what you were referring. As for your answer, I have not a shred of talent with proper magic, Keth'Kadren, as you know it. No, I am what is called these days an Uhr-mach. I can bind magic to an object, like fire to my glove here. But, I could no more cast a spell than a mole could fly."

The table now burns merrily as Asha moves to the other door. It is also unlocked. Inside is a small lab, filled with glass ware and lined with cabinets. All manner of arcane components sit distorted behind small clear crystal doors. An experiment seems to be underway since a fire burns under one piece of glassware that is full of a bight purple liquid. The steam from that liquid is conduced up trough a spiral of glass to drip into an open pan having turned a dull green. Also in this room is a small desk with a chair. Quills, ink, and paper are all arranged neatly atop it.

Rounding a bend in the tunnel Vessa realizes that the nature of the sewers cast the voices much farther than she had anticipated. Two figures stand at the farthest reach of the light cast by her sword. They seem humanoid but their skin causes the light to break into a thousand tiny reflections. "It'sss her!" one of them exclaims.

"Go. Tell the othersss to come here. I will retrieve the prize," a masculine voice answers. Suddenly both figures writhe and shift. There are two soft plops and Vessa loses sight of them, but not, she is sure, because they ran away. They seemed to sink into the ground!

"You have our thanks and that of the realm, ser knight. May the gods smile on you," the leader says spurring his horse onwards. The dogs are still insistent that they have found their target and have to be leashed up and fairly dragged away by the other two men, but shortly Remulus is left alone, although he knows if the dogs are allowed to lead again they will circle back and his disguise might not hold a second time.

As the captain raises a hand to call for shackles there is a flash of light and a loud crack. The girl who ran off, the one the captain referred to as the "mind-mage" has returned, with a significantly older woman. She is dressed in a white robe with a golden belt. Around her shoulder length black hair float several small stones. She bows low to Anvil. "Master Inevitable, the Duke will see you now."

The captain stares aghast at the woman and appears to be on the verge of saying something when she straightens up and casts him a baleful look. Stepping forward she holds out her hand to the mechanical man.With a smile that boarders on the arrogant she says, "I usually warn people not to hold their breath. But with you I don't believe I have to worry."

[Nettlekid]

Anvil nods, though he does not take the woman's hand.
"Very good, bring me to the Duke. I wish to discuss the circumstances of the broken peace treaty and the nature of the conflict that has broken out since."

[Syless]

Rounding a bend in the tunnel Vessa realizes that the nature of the sewers cast the voices much farther than she had anticipated. Two figures stand at the farthest reach of the light cast by her sword. They seem humanoid but their skin causes the light to break into a thousand tiny reflections. "It'sss her!" one of them exclaims.

"Go. Tell the othersss to come here. I will retrieve the prize," a masculine voice answers. Suddenly both figures writhe and shift. There are two soft plops and Vessa loses sight of them, but not, she is sure, because they ran away. They seemed to sink into the ground!

Stark fear rushes through Vessa as the mysterious creatures notice her. Somewhat snakelike? The hissing and refracted skin seems to back that up. She keeps advancing, far more slowly this time, to where the creatures came from, half-expecting one of them to pop back up and surprise her. As she does, she whispers another small prayer to the shield. "Heironeous, grant me your protection so I may fight in your name." Should nothing occur by the time she reaches where the creature who mentioned 'retrieving the prize' disappeared, Vessa will touch her sword to the ground, seeing if there's any response.

Casting Shield of Warding.

[igordragonian]

Remulus trying to grab mud from the river, and cover his smell as best as he could. And with that, he tried to walk to the opposite direction of the knight who are chasing him down.

He haven't forgotten to thank the gods in his heart for their mercy.

Now... he almost had a time for grief.
But.. not yet.

[KingFrog]

Jacob

Jacob paused a brief span of seconds, the lack of respiration or unconscious motor ticks that mark living things resulting in a slightly unsettling moment for Stahl. "I count myself lucky indeed to have met a historian. If what you say is true, I have slept through far too much while my work remains undone. Unstarted, if I lay the bones of my truth bare to the skies." Trying to make a leap of insight with only the knowledge of Stahl's craft and hobby to guide him, Jacob suspects that this son of stone would derive greater satisfaction from earning the knowledge with his own questions. For this reason, Jacob leaves the baited hook of his mention of his 'work' dangling.

Gesturing towards the recently breached door, the enormous heretic and the archaic, graceful gesture seem at odds. But I have bespoken a boon, have I not? Come, let me show you the ore from which I was wrought. It was rich then, and it should be so still, if you are the first visitors to rouse me. While we walk, I would count it a benison if you told me of the world outside. I .... must leave soon, and my ignorance would prove a hindrance.

Jacob is not trying to drop hints about his origin/prior life, but he spent only a few years of his life dealing with other cultures. As such, he doesn't realize that certain linguistic/gestural habits might give clues to a well-read historian. Specifically, the "lay the bones of my truth bare to the skies" is used to preface a painful acknowledgment among the students of the Temple of the Four Winds, and the gesture that starts the second paragraph is a way to guide someone without presuming to go before them (important in a rank-obsessed culture like the one Jacob comes from).

[J-H]

Alcibad

Alcibad passes the brothel, turning into a gap between buildings; he emerges from the other side looking like a young man or older teenager. He walks around to the back of the brothel and leans against the wall opposite it, looking up at the windows longingly. His clothes are a bit more worn, and the young man looks like he can't even afford to step inside.

He keeps his mind open, and watches the rear door. If this place is a hub for organized crime, some of the traffic will leave via the rear (or underground, or into adjacent buildings, but there's no way to detect that).

[Jormengand]

Asha sighs, then sets more fires in the room, then throws the chair onto the alchemy set from a safe distance and leaves, letting the house burn down behind her.

[PallentisLunam]

There is a brief pause as Anvils words hang in the air. With an exasperated sigh the woman takes another step closer and plants her palm in the middle of his metal chest. Her eyes glow as she mumbles something vaguely derogatory about lawful outsiders. Suddenly the air around the two warps and their images appear to twist together spiraling inward to a single point between the two of them.

For a brief moment that seems to last longer than it should the two hurtle through space, surrounded by jumbled sights too fast even for Anvil's eyes to sort out.With a bang the world comes to a halt again. Men in gleaming mail level halberds at the two travelers. A strong voice calls out, "Put those away you fools. They wouldn't be of much use against Alliera anyways."

A man, young and broad shouldered with dark skin, pouring over a map laid out upon a circular table, speaks without turning around. Seven older men stand around the table's edge, two of them have thrown back their cloaks and laid hands to swords. They relax at the Duke's command and in recognition of the intruder. Straightening up the Duke turns around. "What news-" he begins before being startled by Anvil's presence. "Who is this?" he asks instead.

"My lord-brother," Alliera says her voice lined with pride, arrogance, and playfully exaggerated seriousness, "Might I present for your royal pleasure, an Inevitable of Mechanus, here to inquire about our grievances against Metze."

The Dukes face sours. "This is no time for jokes or games!" he snaps.

As Vessa makes her cautious way up the tunnel there is a sudden splash of water as a large snake shoots out of it, hissing loudly fangs bared.
[roll0]; Confirm [roll1]; Damage [roll2] If hit make a Fort Save
Initiative [roll3]

The sounds of the hunting party grow more and more distant. Soon Remulus can't hear them at all.

The woods are deep and beautiful. Towering pine trees mix with sturdy oaks. Birds and beasts are everywhere, although they give the gnoll a wide berth. Eventually as the day sinks into night an Remulus begins to look for a place to rest he comes upon a sheer cliff side. The base of it may provide some shelter, especially with the heavy forestation all around, but a short ways up Remulus can see a cave mouth through the tree branches.

Stahl is more than content to allow Jacob to show him the vein of adamantine. In the mean time he expounds upon any topic the enchanting suit of armor wishes to discuss. Stahl mentions several times that most tire of his ramblings and that he is glad of a listener so eager for knowledge. Jacob quickly becomes aware that he has been gone from the world for a vast expanse of years and all knowledge of his work or indeed his very existence has passed beyond mortal memory. The dwarf is full of answers and asks Jacob no questions himself, seeming perfectly content to merely display his own knowledge.

Eventually Stahl suggests that they return to his base camp. Almost immediately upon turning the very next corner in the complex there is a cry of, "NOW!" Stahl curses and ducks behind Jacob while also drawing a stone from his pocket and touching it to the rear of the armor's massive greaves. Crossbow quarrels zip towards the giant. A thick waxy coating appears on Jacob's chestplate. Several quarrels embed themselves in this as well as a few merely stopping dead midair and clattering to the ground.

"What in the names of all the gods of dwarves and men do you think yer doin'?" Stahl roars from behind Jacob. "Stand down!"

One of the assistants who fled when Jacob first spoke stands behind a line of crossbowmen with a dull expression on his face. "We wuz stagin' a rescue, boss," he says.

People do in fact come and go out the back of the establishment, as well as using the alley for activities that Alcibad finds both repulsive and highly unsanitary. Through the window he can see that the man is obviously known in the establishment, however he quickly loses sight of him. Most of the people going in and out of the place have only one thing on their minds but others seem to think that the place has an entirely different purpose. About one in ten patrons have no interest in flesh. One short, scruffy looking character is there to see a fence about some gemstones. A young man, barely fifteen years of age with narrow shoulders, thin limbs, and long hair, is carrying a report for someone named Harket. A tall leggy woman seeks a blessing from the church of Olidammara for a job, some type of heist.

The various arcane components fizz, crackle, and spark in surprising and entertaining ways. The glassware shatters with an extremely satisfying crash, almost making the trek through the swamp worth it. The experiment is utterly ruined as the purple liquid turns to a puff of smoke in an instant and the green begins to eat through the table. With the abode in shambles, burning, melting, and who knows what else shortly, Asha makes her exit out the front door. Just as she clears the island upon which the house sits there is a loud and queer crunching sound followed by a chatter and a whoosh. Suddenly the thatch of the roof is burning a truly spectacular bluish-green color, while the stones of the chimney are quickly turning bright red.

[Syless]

As Vessa makes her cautious way up the tunnel there is a sudden splash of water as a large snake shoots out of it, hissing loudly fangs bared.
[roll0]; Confirm [roll1]; Damage [roll2] If hit make a Fort Save
Initiative [roll3]

Vessa recoils back. "Augh I knew it- I mean-" Stepping forward with her blade, she shouts energetically. "Surrender or perish, foul creature!" She launches a swing of her own, hoping she can get it before the serpentine creature feasts on her innards.

[roll0]; Confirm [roll1]; Damage [roll2]

[Nettlekid]

Anvil is briefly confused. It seems as though the people speaking to him are not thankful for his presence, which is unusual in most circumstances.
Sense Motive [roll0] to gauge everyone in the room, and why they may think his appearance a joke.
"You may plainly see that I am indeed an Inevitable. Any joke or prank would have had to bypass the structure of order under which Mechanus operates, which is not possible. I do not understand the meaning of your inquiry. I had been informed that the city-state of Metze had breached a peace treaty between your nations and that a request for Inevitable investigation had been submitted. A peace treaty is a contract and agreement between two nations; its breaking is within my purview as a Kolyarut. Have I been supplied with incorrect information?"

[igordragonian]

The weary gnoll felt home, enjoying the wild grace of the forest. Savages or not, nature was the natural for gnolls. Gnolls were not meant to be caged in silk and stone like human nobles did.

But more than anything, Remulus's muscules begged for a rest, his stomach starved for food, and his soul were thirsty for time to mourn.

But first, he needed a shelter. His instinct warned him, to go slowly, to sneak and listen carefully.
But the banished Duke was impatient. So he found the middle ground- he stepped forward pulling the Duke Blade, not trying to hide himself. However he perked his ears and listened.

[roll0]

[Jormengand]

Asha doesn't immediately look back as the house bursts into flames, more concerned with gaining a safe distance - the fact that this provides her with a brilliant walking-away-from-explosion scene is incidental. When she's a safe amount away, she watches the fireworks, ready to react if something untoward happens.

[PallentisLunam]

The shadows themselves wrap tightly around the assassin. He slips around the side of the building and looks up at the ornate edifice. It's great for displaying absolutely obscene amounts of wealth, but it also makes for an easy climb. There is a window just outside the radius of a nearby streetlamp where the shadows are darkest. Half rising to move Alexi freezes in place as one of the ugly brutes stumps around the corner waving a lantern.

Knowing that the eye is more drawn to movements than shapes in this light Alexi resists the urge to crouch back down. The stupid oaf strolls down the side of the building. He seems to be patrolling more to keep himself awake than out of any concern for his master's safety. Reaching the far back corner of the building, he hangs his lantern on the outstretched hand of one of the carven men. He then fumbles with his belt and there is a quiet splashing sound.

Confident in the fact that his potential observer is sufficiently distracted, Alexi dashes across the open space like smoke on the wind and doesn't even slow to scamper up the wall. Hanging by one hand he draws his dagger and slides its narrow blade under the window to flick the latch open. He slips inside as the guard finishes reliving himself and takes back his lantern to continue his route around the building.

Inside, Alexi pushes the window closed but doesn't relatch it just in case he has need of a quick exit. He is in a long dark hallway. A few candles of fantastic hues glimmer in scones filling the hallway with an exotic, spiced scent. The wooden floor is covered with a luxurious fur rug. Ornately trimmed doors stand on either side of the hallway. There is one right next to Alexi at the very end of the hall, a set of double doors on the opposite wall about thirty feet away, and a final one on the same side as the first some sixty feet from the assassin. All is quiet on this floor, although Alexi can hear the muffled rhythms of drums being played down stairs, usually the sign of a particularly wild round of debauchery.

[dascarletm]

Having successfully entered the establishment, Alexi begins moving through the halls, careful to listen to any who would be roaming them, readying to hide, or turn invisible the second he sees another soul. As he travels down the hallway he begins snuffing the candles out one after the other. The hallway grows darker and darker has he moves down it, not a sound to be heard besides the carousing downstairs, and the sizzle of candles being extinguished between his index finger and thumb. He moves patiently and methodically, ensuring to pause a moment at each sconce to ensure he is truly alone.

He moves towards the sounds of debauchery, keeping an eye out for a room which may look like an office of the man in charge.

[J-H]

Alcibad

Alcibad saunters after the woman when she leaves. As she turns, he ducks between buildings to parallel her course. While in the alley, he shifts his form, turning into a male half-elf with pointy ears and brown hair, dressed in practical, durable, and close-fitting brown garments of heavy cotton and leather.

If possible, he will catch up to her, and attempt to pick her pocket.

Just going for something convenient; a trinket, a coin, a lockpick, anything that she would know is probably hers. Nothing hard to get to.

Next steps depend on success.

Sleight of Hand [roll0]

[KingFrog]

Jacob

Easily shrugging off the crossbow bolts but fearful of the wyrdcraft of one who specializes in item lore, Jacob immediately whirls to face Stahl with the crimson pinpricks that serve as his eyes flaring like fatal suns as he more than doubles in size, filling the passage. His mind still moves sluggishly, and it takes him a moment to recognize the Ur-Mach's magic as a protective measure rather than a betrayal. Seeing that in his alarm he nearly injured the dwarf, Jacob reaches out a steadying hand to help Stahl keep his feet. "Forgive me. I ... mistook your warding for an attack. I will give you a moment to explain the situation to your companions before we continue to our destination."

With that, the colossal Jacob begins to shrink as he dismisses his psionic power... for the moment. He keeps a wary eye on the creatures who attacked him to ensure they plan no further surprises. Jacob is curious to see how Stahl describes him, and will likely play into the dwarf's assumptions until he is more sure of his new 'friend.'

Jacob just used a 7 PP Expansion before realizing Stahl wasn't attacking him. Once he sees this, Jacob dismisses the power so that Stahl's attempt to calm his companions will be a bit easier.

[PallentisLunam]

The shield on her arm almost feels as if it moves of its own accord. Whatever the impetus though it ends up between the young woman and the snake. The serpent's teeth are deflected with a bong that reverberates up and down the tunnel. With a quick step and a fierce cut Vessa lands a blow that by all rights should be the end of the creature. Her blade bites deeply into its scales right at the base of its skull. In the light of her sword she can see muscle, sinew, and even bone part for an instant, but before her blade even clears the wound track the snake's body knits back together until what was clearly a mortal blow becomes just a flesh wound.

However the serpent clearly did not expect Vessa to be able to inflict any hurt upon it at all and becomes much more cautious. Slipping into the opaque sewage it tries to blend into its surroundings.

The creature has a significant amount of Damage Reduction.
Taking the withdraw action. The snake has concealment from the sewage water. Hide check [roll0]
The snake is 10 ft up the passage from you, having swum against the current.

The strange interaction has nothing to do with Anvil. There is clearly some type of tension between the Duke and his sister. She seems to be making light of the whole situation, for some reason, while he, as well as his advisers, are all grim and serious.
The Duke turns to Anvil. "My most humble apologies, Master Inevitable," he says with a deep and gracious bow. "Your information is accurate. We signed a nonaggression pact with the sovereign city of Metze not two moons ago and less than three days past their armies marched upon this place. Not to conquer, but merely to pillage."

Turning back to the map the Duke leans heavily on the table and sighs from the bottom of his soul. "It is strange. Our cities have never been exactly friendly. You see, we both strive for the same limited resources, not the least of which are power and influence over the surrounding lands, but neither have we ever been openly hostile with each other." He pushes a few of the markers around the board trying to formulate a plan for a reprisal against Metze. His advisers look on offering occasional suggestions or bits of wisdom earned on previous campaigns. "For almost a generation now we have been a merchant city, rather than a military one. Few of my people younger than these," he gestures at the men around the table, who Anvil estimates are all at least fifty, "have ever seen battle. And I have only commanded small skirmishes."

Alliera sighs dramatically and collapses into a nearby chair thumping her boots up on the table and pushing back in an exaggerated stretch. She points a finger at an apple in a nearby basket and it flies to her hand. Taking a bite out of it she begins talking with her mouth full. Flecks of juice fly from her lips. "All this fretting is silly. My psionic corps will make short work of Metze's barbarians, they'll wish they had never picked a fight with us, this paltry little war will be over by midsummer, and we will be all the richer for it."

The small cottage really does give a beautiful show as all of the arcane materials inside do wondrous things when ignited in an uncontrolled fashion. after about an hour most of the interesting things have stopped and the house is a blazing wreck. The roof fell in with a shower of sparks around the thirty minute mark and pulled the chimney with it. The surrounding swamp plants are fairly waterlogged so there is little risk of the fire spreading.

About this time a lithe half elf comes sprinting out of the swamp with a distressed cry. Uttering a word of power and clapping of his hands, the hem of his red robes and his leather boots are instantly cleansed of the swamp water that clung to them. He then immediately launches into the casting of another spell.

If the layout of the Midnight Silk is the same as other pleasure houses Alexi has visited then the first floor will be where more tame and public thrills occur, while the second floor is for private arrangements, with the third floor housing the living quarters of the staff as well as administrative spaces. No sound emanates from any the the doors he passes, but then again the rooms in these types of places are usually sound proofed, to protect the privacy of the guests, and so as not to disturb other patrons.

Reaching the end of the hallway Alexi peeks around the corner and sees a T intersection. If he can trust his sense of the building he would say that he is about a third of the way across it. The hallway that he is looking down continues most of the width of the building and turns left at the end, near to the Midnight Silk's far outer wall. That way is probably more bedchambers like the ones he just snuck past. In about the middle of the building is the T. A hallway turns to the right and continues out of sight. That way is better lit. The orange flicker of lanterns spills out from that way, as does the throbbing music from below. There is probably a grand staircase in the middle of the building, along with many people. Sound of muffled voices and laughter reach Alexi's ears.

Slipping quietly into step behind the woman, Alcibad reaches out and slides his hand into a pack slung over her shoulder. He comes away with a small glass ball that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. Inside is a small bit of powder and seems to change color when the globe is shaken.

When Jacob grows and turns on Stahl in anger the dwarf pales in an instant and raises his hands, futilely to ward off the coming blow. Wiping the sudden sweat from his brow the dwarf swallows hard and struggles to find his voice. "Ha-Half a moment," he says composing himself briefly before stepping around the armor's bulk. Facing his men he is every inch the calm collected explorer that Jacob has been talking to for the last hour or so, simply more angry.

Stomping up to the line, Stahl grabs the limbs of the his assistants crossbow and jams the stock back into his shoulder, pinning him against the wall. "First of all, ye pea-brained ninny, all ye would have done with these things is waste my money. Ye ain't gonna beat adamantine wit steel. Second of all, when ye stage a rescue, KEEP YER RESCUEE OUT O' THE LINE O' FIRE!" Stahl then grows disturbingly calm. And third of all," he says in a quiet voice, "NEVER SHOOT AT THINGS JUST CAUSE YER SCARED OF EM!" With that last line he delivers a swift kick to between the man's legs and takes the crossbow from him as he crumples to the ground. "Is anybody else feeling particularly stupid today?" he asks with a fiery gleam in his eyes. Everybody present shakes their heads rapidly as the man rolls around on the ground clutching his nether regions."Good," Stahl says. "Now, I am perfectly fine. This creature here," he indicates Jacob, "Is not to be harmed or harassed in any way. I surmise that whatever his origins or nature he now holds the strongest claim to this place and as such he will be treated with the respect due to him as master of these halls. In his kindness he has granted us access to a vein of adamantine that will make us all very wealthy. No one is to touch a single other bauble in this place without his permission. And that means putting back the things we have already excavated." The others stare dumbly at Stahl. 'GET MOVING!" he shouts, jolting them all into action. They dash off, two men carrying the still moaning leader between them.

After they leave Stahl collapses against the wall and turns to Jacob all of the fear returning to him in an instant. "Ye've my thanks for not turning me in to a greasy spot on yer floors, Master Adamant. They're stupid, but I never really considered that they might get me killed." He breathes heavily. "I really need to find better help." he says absentmindedly with a sigh. Then, looking up at the giant suit of armor, as if for the first time, a thought occurs to him, one that probably should have a while ago, "What manner of creature are you?" Stahl asks. "And why were you sleeping in yer armor in that sealed chamber wit that skeleton? And how did you get big like that?"

[Syless]

The shield on her arm almost feels as if it moves of its own accord. Whatever the impetus though it ends up between the young woman and the snake. The serpent's teeth are deflected with a bong that reverberates up and down the tunnel. With a quick step and a fierce cut Vessa lands a blow that by all rights should be the end of the creature. Her blade bites deeply into its scales right at the base of its skull. In the light of her sword she can see muscle, sinew, and even bone part for an instant, but before her blade even clears the wound track the snake's body knits back together until what was clearly a mortal blow becomes just a flesh wound.

However the serpent clearly did not expect Vessa to be able to inflict any hurt upon it at all and becomes much more cautious. Slipping into the opaque sewage it tries to blend into its surroundings.

The creature has a significant amount of Damage Reduction.
Taking the withdraw action. The snake has concealment from the sewage water. Hide check [roll0]
The snake is 10 ft up the passage from you, having swum against the current.

"G-get out here, you sinister serpent, so that you may be slaughtered!" Vessa stammers out, hoping alliteration is at least better than sound as terrified as she is. "Heironeous, unleash your true might upon my blade!" Her blade's soft glow bursts into a radiant light, and she moves down the passage towards where the second creature left, keeping an eye out for the first one.

Casting Holy Sword, making a futile spot check:
Spot- [roll0]

[J-H]

Alcibad

The half-elven man gently tugs on the woman's sleeve. "Excuse me, but I think you dropped this." He discreetly displays it in his palm for her to take. "I'd like to know where you got this. I'm new in town, and don't want to cross the wrong people."

He attempts to read her mind for details that she might think of but not share, as he probes for an overt entry point into the thieves guild.

[Esprit15]

Ilil
The little imp takes a seat, invisibly, on the roof of the collected soul's house, watching the inferno that had once been a barn. He wondered if he should submit the brother's soul as well, but chances were that another had instructed him in how to undermine his kin. No matter, Ilil would be able to claim credit for its collection, even if not the temptation that sealed its fate. He can't help but chuckle at the human's pride, at his greed, at his willingness to betray, despite admitting that his son would make far more as a wizard than he could ever as a farmer. It was curious, the role of devils in Creation: they tempt the weakest of the mortals to be more like them, only to kill them off. Thoss who are strong meanwhile are to be pursuaded to become stronger, more expansionistic, to create societies modeled after the beautiful structuring that was Hell. Those same weak mortals, in such a nation, are then permitted to live their lives from birth to death, so long as they embody the ideals of said a society. It has an inherently contradictory feel to it, but the reasoning behind it is simple: one is a factory of souls, aggressively expanding to take in yet more humanoids and other races to manufacture yet more souls, becoming a factory that produces yet more factories; the other is just a small cart with a single good, moved to a different path leading to one of many destinations, but can still be coaxed back to its original path. Better to rob the cart now than wait for someone to point them away from his desired destination.

Ah yes, he would have to do more than tempt a single man into damnation to earn the attention of a superior. Bringing one of these small factories into existance would surely prove him worthy of further promotion. He was a scout: his job was to lay the groundwork for his superiors and report back.

Ilil watches the fires burn for a few more minutes. As the structure begins to fall in on itself, he nods. That should be more than sufficient. Still undetectable to the eye, the imp takes wing, flying toward the nearest town. Supposedly, the church worshipped a deity of Law there, caring not whether it was applied to Good or Evil ends, so long as there was order. While the devout worshippers would be harder, given they they were destined for their god's domain, he could at least ensure that the values upheld and demonstrated to the gullible populace would be swayed to the more ambitious side of the morality pool.

[Nettlekid]

Anvil listens to the the duke's recounting of the situation, not letting any emotion show on his face because he wasn't experiencing much.
"As it stands, you are certainly within your rights to retaliate against Metze and recoup restitution proportional to the cost of existing and future damages, the cost of gathering and maintaining your army, on top of the penalties incurred for breaking the treaty. If as you say your retaliation will be swift, you stand to make a decent profit.

I have two related questions about the situation, as some of what you described seems illogical to me. You say that the two city-states have never been openly hostile, and it has been decades since you have seen a proper battle. But you say that the non-aggression pact was signed less than two months ago. My questions are firstly, if you had never been openly hostile with Metze for decades even without a declared non-aggression pact, what circumstances necessitated the establishment of one so recently? And secondly, if there was no non-aggression pact preventing outright war between your nations before two months ago, then if Metze had hostile intention why did they not invade two months ago before the pact was signed and they had a better legal position to do so? In short, why was the non-aggression pact signed at all? It seems like it was only maintaining for Avendorf a tenuous peace that had existed for decades without regulation, and for Metze it becomes a hindrance. What motive would either party have for signing it at all, especially Metze?"

[KingFrog]

Jacob

In a voice booming with an authority that comes as much from force of will as from the massive adamantine frame, Jacob speaks "Let all those here bear witness: I abdicate any claim to these holdings beyond my freedom and that which I presently carry. I name as my inheritor Stahl, Ur-Mach of the Stonekin, who stands before me."

The sense of formal proclamation fades from Jacob's voice as he turns back to Stahl, "I honor your respect for the rights of others, but this place has served me to my final need of it. I will answer all of your questions, but perhaps it would be wise to wait for a more .. private setting. In the mean time, I shall provide one answer at least." With that, facing in such a way as only Stahl will be able to see, Jacob briefly opens the faceplate of his armor, revealing the emptiness within. In the absence of the framing effect of the armor's mask even the crimson pinpricks of his eyes are imperceptible, but after a brief moment Jacob reseals his helm and hides his hollow interior once again.

"You are now master of these halls, Ur-Mach, but I have a request if you will deign to honor it. I ask that you alone enter and investigate the room where you found me, and be cautious of divulging what you discover there."

If Stahl or his companions do not object, Jacob resumes guiding the dwarf toward the vein where he was mined, and using his time to question the Ur-Mach about the nations of the world. In time, it becomes apparent to Stahl that the huge creature is especially interested in the social and power structures within the realms of the world. If Stahl is even slightly perceptive, he will be able to deduce that Jacob has a special hatred of slavers and cultures where they are tolerated.

[dascarletm]

Doing his best to stay hidden, Alexi approaches where he thinks the staircase my be. He keeps a hand close to his blade, and readies turning himself invisible swiftly, should he need it.

[Jormengand]

Asha rushes forwards, chain-sword in hand, and charges out at the mage.

Assuming the mage is surprised by my charge, which I take as a partial charge using the standard action I'm limited to in the surprise round, I attack immediately against his flat-footed AC, power attacking for full and taking the entire penalty to my AC instead of my attack roll:

Hit 1st attack.
[roll1] Crit confirm (if threatened) 1st attack.
[roll]2d4+2d6+26 Damage 1st attack.
Hit 2nd attack.
[roll3] Crit confirm (if threatened) 2nd attack.
[roll]2d4+2d6+26 Damage 2nd attack.

If he's still alive, initiative: [roll4]

[Jormengand]

[roll0]+[roll1] and [roll2]+[roll3]