The Dark Ward IC

[SorenKnight]

You all meet in a tavern. Cliche perhaps, but after a long day of smuggling/talking to yourself/scheming can't a man/gestalt psychic entity/fiend just get a drink?

Evidently not, as shortly after you sit at the only table with any spare seats you realize one of you fellow patrons is collapsed face down in his soup with his neck bent at an obscene angle, still as the grave and dead as a door nail.

Nathar, Jix, and at least one of kjelfalconer's personalities all have ranks in Know Local, and something about the man feels slightly familiar to you, you can roll to see if you can remember exactly what.

[Ancient]

"Oh dear, are you all right sweetie?"

Nemora a comely blonde that looks a little too innocent for her line of work, examines the man with the practices hands of someone that looks like they know what they are doing.


Heal Check, to make sure he's dead and cause of death: [roll0]
Sleight of Hand Check to Pick his Pockets and see if he has any goodies: [roll1]

[kjelfalconer]

Ren tries very hard not to look at the dead body. It wasn't that he wasn't used to seeing them (especially since Crowe had shown up), the apparent human just really doesn't want to draw attention to himself.
"This is what you have to look forwards to. Meaninglessly dying, with people barely even pretending to care. Would anyone even notice you were gone?" Caedan was already in a bad mood after today's recruitment had gone poorly, and his barbs even more vicious than usual, as he paced around the table.

He tries to ignore Crowe's half hearted attempts to choke a man drunkenly singing, doomed to failure due to his lack of physical form, and fails to suppress a whimper as Caedan grips him by the neck.
"I said, would anyone even notice-" He pauses suddenly. "That man. I know him from somewhere." Caedan yanks Ren's head up, forcing him to properly look at the dead body for the first time.
"I... I don't know him..." he replies, as quietly as possible, as Crowe comes over to join them.
"They did good work."

"Ngh!" snarls Caedan, gripping even tighter, until Ren feels like he can barely breathe. "Why can't I think who he is?"



Rolling knowledge local for Caedon (though all the skills are technically shared if they don't come from temporary armiger spheres) : [roll0]

Also, for everyone's sake any voices which are just in his head are in italics, so it should be easier to tell at a glance who you can actually hear.

[Jormengand]

Jix took a moment to examine the body as well, and her looped tail twitched - it was always attached to the knife in its sheath under her long coat - as she worked through the dead man's pockets1 with a skill that would prevent any casual observer from realising what she was up to. As she worked, she looked to see what was up with this man; did she know him?2

She understood that she wasn't alone, and that some pretty girl who was obviously way in over her head was checking out the body while a man deep in thought tried to recognise the man. Suddenly, a living, breathing rat leapt out of the man's mouth, and even Jix was a little taken aback. She shrugged; the myths that ratfolk could speak with rats were unfounded. She sighed, and tried anyway3, mostly for show.

1: [roll0] SoH. [roll1] Perception.
2: [roll2] K (L).
3: [roll3] HA. Not sure what, if anything, this roll will actually get me, but I have a +4 to HA rolls on rodents, dammit! :smalltongue:

[SorenKnight]

As you ruffle through his pockets you find a whole hundred gold pieces, an awful lot for a random peasant. Even more surprising, when you lift his hat to check for hidden valuables his skin flickers and changes to reveal hideous burns masked under an illusion.

The rat nips at your fingers and skitters off, scattering food off the table and drawing eyes. Muttering and whispering spreads through the tavern like wildfire as the occupants eye the dead man and you see a small group near the door turn to leave without bothering to pay for their drinks.

The bartender doesn't even seem to notice, too busy looking at the dead man with the blood rapidly draining from his face.

[Jormengand]

Jix pockets the money happily, hiding it away in one of her many hiding places. She looks with a level of suspicion at the hat too, and slips that away for safekeeping.

"Getz'Rerdahl!", she swears in the demi-language of the ratfolk as she's bitten, then shakes her head. Rerdahl's Tail! Why ratfolk cursed the tail of one of their legendary figures, she didn't know. Probably a euphemism, but not the point. The point was that she was here with the dead body of... a noble?1 It was kinda hard to tell under all those burns.

She sighed, and made sure she was absolutely ready to fight or flee as appropriate if anything should happen.

1: K (N) [roll0]

[Ancient]

One would suppose that a live rat popping out of a corpses mouth would be unsettling, but it wasn't like it was the first time Nemora had seen such things, she had seen much much worse. The ratling was near her "assisting" in her efforts, presumably much more profitably than her own.

The ratling screeched some of her gibberish and looked tense, while it seemed the man was under some sort of glamer, and his face looked as if he had spent some time burning in the lower realms.

"Everything all right, dearie?", Nemora asked as lightly as possible, no need to scare off the ratling.

Perception: [roll0] to see where the rat ran off to

Sense Motive: [roll1] to determine Jix's mood

[TheRedFox201]

"That person is probably dead." *Nathar wonders if he knows the man.*

[Jormengand]

Keeping a straight-enough face despite Nemora's scrutiny1. "Zu etz'kha... I mean, the rat bit me," she explained, swapping back into common. "I'm fine, apart from, you know, dead guy." Not the first person who'd worked with Jix to die, and some of the times it had actually genuinely been her fault, so she wasn't exactly thrown by it.

1: I believe that poker-faces are bluff: [roll0]

[SorenKnight]

"That person is probably dead." *Nathar wonders if he knows the man.*

Nathar does, in fact, know the man. You recognize him as one Estran Kuzruthen. The burns make it fairly obvious, given his status as one of the highest ranked and most dangerous members of the Burned Men. The scars are a vital part of their initiation ritual, if you remember correctly. Either way, every member is covered in them, and its strange to see them deliberately hidden. The horrific scars tend to be worn with a great deal of pride.

[Ancient]

Keeping a straight-enough face despite Nemora's scrutiny1. "Zu etz'kha... I mean, the rat bit me," she explained, swapping back into common. "I'm fine, apart from, you know, dead guy." Not the first person who'd worked with Jix to die, and some of the times it had actually genuinely been her fault, so she wasn't exactly thrown by it.

1: I believe that poker-faces are bluff: [roll0]

Nemora gives Jix the eye, but tears a bit of silk from the hem of her dress and uses it to bind the wound.

"Best to clean that out with spirit and fresh water when you get the chance dearie"


Heal Check [roll0]
Sense Motive [roll1]

[TheRedFox201]

"Y'know this guy is somewhat of a gang/cult boss. Usually they don't try hiding scars. Probably going to be trouble since we ended up anywhere near him."

*Nathar drinks whatever he has or can readily access. Today's probably going to be long.*

[Ancient]

"Y'know this guy is somewhat of a gang/cult boss. Usually they don't try hiding scars. Probably going to be trouble since we ended up anywhere near him."

*Nathar drinks whatever he has or can readily access. Today's probably going to be long.*

Nemora addresses the group telepathically

<Might be best to leave then, maybe I should stick around in a disguise and see who is interested in claiming him>

[Jormengand]

Jix shrugged. "Whenever you're ready, I can make a scene that should buy us a little time to get out, if we need to," she whispered to Nathar. She turned to Nemora. "Stick around if ya like; I ain't planning on it."

[kjelfalconer]

He flinches at the mental voice.
"No... No... Not another one-" he whimpers, until Caedan whacks him in the back of the head.
"Stop your snivelling. That came from outside, not one of us."
"We should leave. People might think you did it."

He nods weakly, before slipping for the door as quietly as he can. He takes a deep breath as he leans against the outside wall, not even bothering to check if anyone watched him leave.
"It... it wasn't you, was it?" he asked, eyeing Crowe worriedly. He shrugged.
"I kill a lot of people. Probably not that one though."
"You do like your neck snaps," Caedan comments drily.
"Their technique was excellent," he agrees with a nod, the pair of them ignoring Ren for the moment as he slunk his way through the backstreets. "I'm a little jealous it wasn't me."
"It's a shame. Someone like that could have been a useful pawn down the line. People like him are always willing to cause trouble. Unlike Someone we know."


Rolling Stealth: [roll0]

[TheRedFox201]

"Eh, sure. Don't want to leave anyone in danger, that'd just make more problems."

[Jormengand]

"Watch a master at work. Let's move."

A scream echoes from somewhere nearby, an axe thuds into a table, someone roars at the top of their voice, gunshots ring out, and steel clashes with steel. Footseteps ring out, and the clanking of armoured city watchmen tearing their way towards the building rings out.1

Jix uses the distraction to rush for the side door,2 swiping up anything useful or valuable that she can3 as she moves out of the tavern.

1: Ghost sound, DC 10. I reckon enough people will buy it to cause some ruckus, though.
2: Stealth, [roll0]
3: SoH, [roll1]

[Ancient]

All hell breaks loose and Nemora almost smiles...instead she tries to act as naively as possible and dive under a table. If one was paying attention, they might expect the young blonde to come back up. Instead, a dark haired boy scampers under the table and into the shadows.


Bluff: to melt into the chaos: [roll0]
Using changeshape to assume the form of a young waif
Stealth: to scamper away: [roll1]
Perception: see how the crowd reacts [roll2]
Sense Motive: to see if I've been made in my attempt at a switcheroo [roll3]

[SorenKnight]

The door bursts open at the end of a heavy boot and a towering figure squeezes through the door, dragging a terrified looking man by the scruff of his neck. The massive half-orc glares around the room casting instant silence through sheer intimidation. Raw red scars adorn every visible surface of his body, curling around it in intricate patterns and designs.

Then his gaze falls on the dead man, and his jaw clenches. "WHO?! WHO DID THIS? WHO SAW IT?! A thousand gold to anyone who helps find the culprit and a painful death to anyone to waste my time!"


Intimidate [roll0]
Perception [roll1]

[TheRedFox201]

"Dead when I sat down, looks like someone tried to cover this up."

*Nathar is not fond of staying somewhere this monster of a man can swing, but he believes it would be worse to be caught running.*

[Ancient]

Nemora continues to hide and keep her ears open.

<Looks like another one of this guys friends, half-orc, many many scars, and hella scary, he's offering a big bounty of whomever did his mate in.>, she relays telepathically, to those not present.

[SorenKnight]

The orc looms over you, muscles twitching in his jaw as he visibly restrains himself. Tell me everything. Everything you saw, anything weird, I need to know it all.

[TheRedFox201]

"Yes, so he was dead when we arrived, think a rat? Crawled out of his mouth, I noticed he was dead, and his tattos were concealed, thought that was odd. Then I realized this was probably going to be my whole day while everyone else scattered. No idea any particulars of how he was killed."
*Nathar seems willing to help, but also apathetic due to his lack of helpful knowledge.*

[SorenKnight]

A rat? Those bastards are taunting us! They think they can survive our fire, then they'll get burned to ashes!


While the orc rants and raves at Nathar, Jix sees a scrawny ratfolk in a ratty grey vest approach her as she's leaving. Please, help me out. You're an illusionist right? We'd both better hide, or they'll tear us apart!

A gaunt human with his face divided into two halves, everything below his nose is seared red, everything above is pristine, rushes through the door and stops in shock at the sight of the body.

Aw, hells.

He swallows and leans in to whisper into the orc's ear.


You know what'll happen if the boss find's out we let his baby brother die without giving him the culprit's head at the same time, right?


The orc nods slowly at his companion's words. If he doesn't have a target the whole district will go up in flames. We need to control the narrative, and until then... He eyes the crowded tavern, summoning fire between his palms. No witnesses.