Tools of the Trade [IC]

[3SecondCultist]

"Tools of the Trade"

Dear Professionals,

I hope this missive finds you in good health. I have been watching your progress for some time, and wish to meet you in order to secure long-term employment. Yours are talents that can put to good use, and it so happens that I have many uses for them. I am prepared to offer competitive - some might say lucrative - rates in exchange. If you are amenable to meet, please make your way to the World Serpent Inn on the third weekend of the month and ask to see the Lady in Black. I assure you that I will make the trip worth your while.

Sincerely,

A Friend


The World Serpent Inn (http://archive.wizards.com/dnd/files/World_Serpent.pdf)

The note was brief and to the point, and yet here you are. What might have motivated you to answer such a summons is your own - a search for answers, more food to eat, or just an appetite for implied coin - but the World Serpent Inn lies before you all the same. A strange locale among strange locales, but the doors are easy to find if you know where to look. Thankfully, all of you have had ample warning and are resourceful enough in your own rights to arrive at the appropriate time. Through bolthole and ruin from a dozen worlds, travelers to the Inn arrive invariably find themselves passing through a set of grand double doors, through the coat rooms where your weapons are registered but never taken, and into the esteemed Common Room.

The Common Room is exactly what you expected: a chamber that resembles an ancient tavern, with plank floors underfoot and venerable wooden beams overhead. The Common Room is illuminated by both scattered fluted pillars that possess their own inherent glow, and a large shaft of light in its center over the bar proper. This bar, obviously, dominates the space, and itself centers around a massive pillar lined with shelves, which are stacked with the most exotic beverages one can imagine - and more than a few that one can't. An eerie, sweet-smelling blue mist - like a non-toxic smoke - fills the air of the common room and obscures vision, making it impossible to see the entirety of the room at one time and ensuring a nice, obscuring haziness fills the place. The bar is surrounded by tables and chairs of all shapes and sizes, whilst booths and long tables line the walls. There, plastered on one of the pillars, you spot a list that has been reproduced in a number of languages.


Food's on the house. Drinks are not.
Leave when you're ready.
Do not attack the waitstaff.
If you must fight with another patron, do it in the brawling pit.
Management is not responsible for the loss of property or life in the backrooms.

Asking one the barmaids - a short cherubic gnome woman wearing the distinct uniform of a revealing dress formed of shimmering indigo scales - about the Lady in Black earns a quick nod of understanding and direction towards one of the smooth stone corridors leading out of the Common Room. "She's rented out a backroom from Mitch for the week," the waitress says with a practiced shrug. "She said that anyone asking for her can find here there."

Following the path laid out before you, at one point or another the six of you emerge from the misty hallway into what appears to be a second taproom. Much smaller and more intimate than the Common Room that you may be used to, here the bar is a simple mahogany with a single bearded barman behind it. A few patrons sit about on the same kinds of tables you saw when you entered earlier, and the blue mist from before is gone so their faces are clearer. A pair of merchants sit at the nearest table, mulling over cups of sparking orange wine and listening to the lone musician play in the raised corner stage. The furthest table has but one customer, who by the looks of things is trying to chat up one of the uniformed waitresses. The last table is empty. You spot a robed drow woman and a fellow who has the purple skin and eyes of one of the gith sitting at opposite ends of the bar, glaring daggers at each other over their drinks. Finally, a set of barred double doors to the south are guarded by a very brawny lizardfolk wielding a number of blades. He leers at you openly when you enter, but doesn't approach or say anything.

"Sit anywhere you like," calls out the bearded man serving drinks as each of you walks in, "and let me know if I can get you anything! Any food you want we can have run in from the kitchens, but we've got everything and more to drink back here." He says nothing about the Lady in Black, or how long you will be expected to wait here. For the moment, it would seem as though you're just customers.

So over this course of time, feel free to introduce yourselves, interact with each other or the NPCs in this side room, and when everyone's posted once or twice we can get the ball rolling. If you want to make any dice rolls outside of combat, you can put it in a spoiler in your IC post, in an OOC post, or roll it in the Roll20.

[BelGareth]

Will having received the message, thought it an opportune moment to evade his hunters for the moment, a new business, team, and benefactor could do wonders, and who knows, perhaps he'd be able to either find some like minded fellows to help him, or he could acquire the coin to pay off the debt?

Arriving at the Inn he was amused and impressed at once, he'd never come here before, and this was his first time to the mythical waypoint, noting the directions to the back room he walked down the hallway with measured steps, taking everything in he could, he knew his magic was suppressed here, but, so too were the warriors, if but in a different manner, so his words would be his weapon, much like the majority of his life.

He stepped into the room, and scanned it as the bearded man talked to him, moving up to the bar, directly between the gith and drow at the very center of the bar, "How about a drink? Something...exotic, but...well, I'm here on a professional meeting, so nothing too intoxicating though."

[Archmage1]

Having found a recent message(A somewhat unusual occurance) lodged in the crack of the door to the house he was in, it didn't take long for Tarith to read it. A message, for me? And here? Unexpected. And a job offer... Well, I don't have anything interesting planned, and this might be, so... why not? Now, where to find the World Serpent Inn... That barkeep? Whatshisface? Sure...
After a series of somewhat murderous investigations, Tarith finds himself in the brightly lit common room, and wincing. So much light... couldn't they keep it at a reasonable brightness? He spends a few moments looking around the room, quickly reading the rules, before he approaches a gnomish woman, looming over her. She quickly answers his questions, and Tarith continues on his way, soon finding himself into another brightly lit taproom. Still too much light, and I need to wait as well. This is rapidly becoming less interesting, but I'm here now.
Looking around, Tarith quickly spots an empty table, not far from the lizardman, and takes a seat in the corner, looking across the room, away from the light.

[CozJa]

Reading the letter was a welcome news for the necromancer, but the long wait was something that he grew unaccustomed to, after his prolonged stay on the World Serpent Inn. Sometimes, he felt more like furniture than a real customer, since he got to know almost everyone here. He put the letter away and took his deck, at least he had something to do between a dose of Darkeye and another book on the art of channeling negative energy...

... and another long game was reaching its end at the table. Kraksha and Quilvarin were the only ones still playing, after the last Githyanki left the game.
The ghost elf placed his first card on the table, a Three of Clubs, then waited for his fellow player to draw and play. And Kraksha didn't let him wait too much.
"The Queen of Diamonds; is that your best bet?" said the elven necromancer, while the Rakshasa showed his first card.
'It may very well be my last one, little elf'.

The pair of players looked into each other eyes for a moment that seemed eternal, or brief, depending on perspectives. Then, Quilvarin raised his hand and placed his second card: a Seven of Clubs.

Right after him, the Rakshasa drew another Queen, of Hearts, this time. He sneered, then moved his palm down, gesturing the ghost elf to show his last card.
Quilvarin drew and put the last card: an Ace... of Spades?
"Wait a minute!" he thought, widening his eyes at the card laid before him. "Something's not right! If that's the ace..."
He raised up noisly, almost sending his chair flying.
"You accursed Rakshasa! That's the time of my meeting, and I'm here betting souls with you? I'd wish for the Nine Hells to devour you, if I still had time to do it!"

Quilvarin leaves the table with haste, running through crooked corridors and chambers. As his steps take on an almost constant rythm, a door, the right door, appears in front of him. He stops, recomposes himself, pulls back his hairs, and enter the place.
Around him, the usual festival of planar travelers dance around. He passes by a couple of strangers near the door and walks to the bar, sitting himself between a drow woman and a man he never saw before.
"A glass of Glacial Blue Wine, please."

[Ryuuk]

Do you know nothing? Travel to Fairhaven and by night take a flower from the Queen's Kiss. Rend it, spread the petals before the shop's entrance and enter it. That is all you need to do to answer the summons. Oh, and do try to look presentable.

With a glamer correcting her appearence, short blond hair tied behind her and a simple gown, albeit with an intricate pattern, Immith makes her way through the inn. Oh how I miss this place, if these walls could talk. I spent what felt like years in those back rooms. They are endless you know, and hold so many untold secrets... The atmosphere was strange to her, too welcoming. When she reaches the rented out common room she has a look around until the bearded man calls out with the offer. Then she remembers the notice. A world of possiblities here and that is what draws you? Bah...

She takes one of the remaining seats at the bar, leaving the spot between her and the gith empty. "A meal. Do you serve beef stew?"

[3SecondCultist]

The barman - who cheerily introduces himself as Marten to those of you who make your way to the bar - immediately starts to whip up a concoction or two when you place your orders. From a cupboard, the man produces a pair of glasses. The first is clearly for wine, which he fills nicely with a pale blue but stunningly clear liquor that can only be a glacial vintage. The substance emanates the kind of chill fog one might see during a midwinter sunset. The second vessel is more of a highball. Pulling out a shaker from underneath the bar, the man begins to blend... something together. You can see a few strange looking lights from the metal tumbler as he finally pours a silvery liquid out into the glass. As Will looks closer, he realizes that he can actually see his own reflection quite perfectly in the elixir.

"Here we are, a glacial blue for the elven gentleman. Our house Stygian blend, mixed with essence of celestial blossom. And for the human, I present a Limbo Legere: all of the best parts of a chaos flask, with none of the drawbacks. I daresay that one of these will be enough for an evening; make sure to take very small sips." Marten beams at the two of you, quite happy to have been of service. As Immith arrives at the counter and asks for food, he nods smartly and rings a small bell near the back. Before she has a chance to turn around, the scaled gnome appears right behind her with a small parchment and hands her the house menu with a genial smile that only somebody in this industry can conjure.

And they do, in fact, serve beef stew.

"You must be new," drawls a voice to Will's left. The drow woman, her curvaceous figure draped in a tight red and black dress made to resemble armor, openly examines his drink with a smirk. "Marten doesn't go all out like that for anyone accustomed to spending any time in the Thirteenth Hour. Don't worry, I'm not going to bite. My name is Terezina, although Zina will suit," she says as she extends a hand to shake - or perhaps to kiss? Her eyebrow raises in indolent expectation of one form of greeting or another.

[BelGareth]

Will claps his hands at the show of skill, and nods to to the barkeep in thanks, "I shall endeavor to remember that, sips only!" he turns to the drowess and smiles as she talks taking a sip of his Limbo Legere enjoying it's fascinating combination of flavors, at the profered hand, he decides to meet her in the middle, and takes her hand with his left and kisses it on her knuckle.

"Well met Zina, I am Will, what brings you to such a locale, it has been such a long time since I have enjoyed the company as the likes of...you" he says with his most dashing smile


[roll0]

[Snowbluff]

Rain

A pale half orc with soft features is sitting at a table. She's wearing typical druid equipment, with a lot of leather and feathers. She was trying to enjoy a nice, tall glass of milk, but it was spilled when a large, white tiger climbed onto the table and started laying on it.

"Get off, you idiot," she mutter angrily, but the tiger is having none of it. As she tries to push it off of the table, it rolls over, and grabs her with its forelegs and mouth.

Still, it's important that the drow gets an eye kept on her. People like Terezina are trouble. Most drow are trouble, in fact, but drow are basically the worst.


It's not racist if they're ALWAYS EVIL!
[roll0]

[LairdMaon]

Error steps through the doorway into the World Serpent Inn. His right arm twitches slightly and then settles down. He stalks forward awkwardly, as if out of place in this Inn.

He sniffs around, for the most part ignoring the bar maid. When she comes too close for his comfort he stares his empty gaze upon her and takes a bite from the halfling leg he'd kept in his satchel.

Catching the smell he was looking for, he makes his way to the back room and finds his target.

Settling at Rain's table, the warforged begins giving the ghost tiger vigorous scratches under it's jaw.

[CozJa]

As the human and the drow at his sides discuss with each other, Quilvarin starts drinking his wine, then glances at Will, without raising his head, and talks to him.
"Beware at what you're kissing. Many of the Spider Queen's spawn are known for their ability to mutate their hands into arachnids, which are then used to serve their wicked goddess. You never know if the finger you touched butchered a fly only a minute ago."

[Archmage1]

Sitting back in his chair with no food or drink, Tarith observes the happenings. Sounds like someone's looking to get punched by a drow, and someone else hasn't trained their pet to not eat them yet.

[Ryuuk]

Immith turns and takes the waiting menu. She scans it, and when finding what she wants, returns it. "You do. A serving of the stew then... if you will." There is little musicality in her voice, it is almost monotonous. Once her dealing with the help is done, she turns back to the bar and closes her eyes to get a better, focused look at those gathered in the room. No, no, that makes perfect sense. The scorpion worshippers crawling in the ruins of the giants are the exception to the rule. They are indeed the Spider Queen's spawn in other realms, you see...

She tighten her brows close and takes a hand with long black nails to her forehead, listening half heartedly to the prince of fools' lecture as it played in her head.

[BelGareth]

Will only smiled as he kissed the soft skin of the drowess. He wasn't an Idiot.

"And who's to say I would dislike the fingers I touched butchering a fly?" he says trailing off her fingers slowly, letting them go one by one, smiling at her as he spoke.

[3SecondCultist]

Zina's tittering laughter is a clear brook through a meadow. "Well, you certainly know how to flatter a girl," the drow says with a coy smirk playing around her full lips. "Your friend isn't wrong, but you seem like a smart enough fellow to have surmised the same already. And if it makes anyone here feel any better, my hands are butchery-free today. I actually happen to be on my last day of vacation before heading home. I had planned on going to watch the brawling ring for a while..." The sentence is left open-ended as an obvious invitation.

The musician in the corner stops playing for a moment as the table nearest the stage becomes a show in and of itself. As the huge ghost tiger clambers up onto the surface, she spills not only Rain's drink but also those of the other two patrons who had been enjoying the music. Milk mixes with an Karrnathi dark ale and spiced wine and spatters through the wooden boards to make a mess on the ground, as both man and women get up in obvious disgust and irritation. One of the gnome servants appears behind you, and with a wave of her hand the mess starts to evaporate. But that does not cool the tempers present.

"Mch'elwa!" cries the dark-skinned merchant in a thick accent that some of you recognize as Calim. He gestures at Sasha, clearly not happy at recent events, and eventually locks eyes with Error. "You'd better get your damned beast off the table and pay for my next drink, or by Azuth you will regret it."

Near the far end of the bar, Immith's stew arrives. It is delicious.

It's subtle, but watching and listening closely to Zina reveals a slight tension and cadence of her voice that some of you might be familiar with: her behavior is consistent with somebody who has been ensnared by an enchantment effect. Her specific motives - or those of whoever might be influencing her - in speaking to Will aren't clear, but the signs are there.

[BelGareth]

Will's smile turns decidedly bemused.

He takes a sip of his Limbo Legere, and only a sip, while he sends his thoughts telepathically to Zina, <Well, I was going to wait out my time here at the bar, but maybe we can entertain each other while I wait for my employer?> He looks around and sighs, not seeing any booths, the seating was decidedly lacking in this particular area of the inn.

[Snowbluff]

Rain

<Careful, she's enchanted. On second thought, they're ALL enchanted,> Rain sends to Will with Message.

She then looks up at the man who is bothering her. She flips him a coin. "Drinks on me. This cat isn't moving. You know how they can be." Sasha ignores the exchange, instead merely enjoying the attention she's receiving. Rain glances around surreptitiously, keeping an eye out for the enchanter. Whoever it is, they might be keeping a close eye on the exchange.


Flipping the man a plat (10 gp)
[roll0]

Spot
[roll1]

[BelGareth]

Will turns his head sideways looking at whoever sent the missive.

<What...who, how do you know?>

[Archmage1]

Tarith's slowly roaming eyes pause on the drow woman, before looking around at the many other individuals, coming to a quick conclusion.

Looks like a fight's about to happen, but... wait... the drow, she isn't acting normally... none of them are. They're all not acting of their own free will. Which means something about this place... but the only off limits location is the lizardman, so... let's see how well this works. The tables have shadows, so I drop something, go down to retrieve it, and vanish? Depending on what the reaction is, I can then go for the door, or bypass it.

Having considered a course of action, Tarith reaches into his pocket, but fumbles the pull, dropping his ration pack beneath the table. Without a moment's hesitation, he follows it, and quietly vanishes.

Shadow Blend time, using the shadows beneath the table. He is looking around the room, looking for reactions to his vanishing.
Hide: 27
Move Silently: 28

[Snowbluff]

Rain

<It's fairly obvious. There responses are programmed. There's a slight lag involved, which translates into a minute loss of expressiveness,> Rain replies. <More importantly, we're surrounded, including by this jerk who's trying to tell my cast what do do.> Rain pauses. She's often taken aback by her own attention to detail.

[LairdMaon]

"My beast? There is no 'my beast'." Error stares at the merchant, "Know who you are dealing with before you speak. Unless you wish to take this to the brawling pit. Do you wish to be my next meal so much?"

Error turns back to the large cat and continues to pet it playfully.

[BelGareth]

Not caring about the ruse. Will stands up.

"Well damn." he says simply.

<Were you asked to come here too? I wander if this is some kind of test.>

He scans the room looking for anything strange. Well, stranger.

[3SecondCultist]

The merchant glares openly at Error's threat, and seems about to say something fiery in response when Rain offers to pay for his next drink. "Hm," he sniffs with visible disdain. "That will have to do. When the waitress comes around, please tell her to send over a glass of Nasaqh Seawine to Bassam Qwehyl. I will be sitting over there for the time being." Bassam points to the table where one more fellow is listening as the musician strikes up a second jaunty tune. In a ruffle of silks, the merchant makes his leave with a stiff bow.

At the bar, Zina stands up as though she is expecting Will to take her arm. Her smile hasn't fully disappeared, but she appears to be giving him a more appraising glance as he speaks to her telepathically. <I'm sure that we can find a few ways to pass the time.> She waits for his reply. However, as Will receives new information and speaks out loud, Zina's smile falters for the first time. Her white eyebrows are furrowed in some confusion. "Is there something the matter? Do you have another engagement?"

Meanwhile, the alert lizardman - who has hitherto barely moved since you arrived - is watching Tarith cautiously as he climbs underneath the table in search of his 'fallen rations'. When Tarith doesn't re-emerge, he just grunts and takes a cautious step forward. With a muscled grip, he leans down under the table and puts his head into the shadows. "Oy," he gravels directly at where Tarith is hiding, eyes alighting on the only place where the shadow man's form can be, "you alright down here? Best not to try hiding here. It's not against the rules per se, but folk don't like it much. Come on out."

[Archmage1]

Taking advantage of the concealing shadows cast by the flickering torches, Tarith tries to slide around, resting momentarily in the Lizardman's own shadow, before darting towards the door and attempting to quietly open it, as a prelude to slipping through, and shutting it.


[roll0] Hide
[roll1] Move Silently

[BelGareth]

Not seeing anything amiss, Will shrugs "Not at all my dear, please, lead on." as he takes another sip. <Well, I'm unable to see anything off, and well, if this is all scripted, im scheduled for a good time.> he mentally winks at Rain, still not know who exatly he was talking to. <Much obliged for the heads up>

[CozJa]

Quilvarin keeps drinking his wine, looking at the men at his right. When he raises and starts looking around, the Ghost Elves changes seat just to look at him and the drow. "Such pathetic people, acting like fools following a script slowly bringing them to death. They are so worthless of attention..." he looks at his glass, looking at his reflection in the wine. "Maybe I've been a fool like them, too, playing a part that wasn't mine. But how can they go on with their lives? ...how sad"
The Elf turns again to the bartender. "Another one, please."

[Snowbluff]

Rain

<More likely it was a trap. I was called here as well, ostensibly for my skills. It would make sense for an enchanter to make a honeypot out of coin and women,> Rain replies to Will. Of course, this makes Rain question the motives of the merchant. Of course, people will be angered over spilled milk, ensorceled or not.

[Ryuuk]

Immith

Immith nods to herself, ignoring whoever it was that brought the stew. She eats slowly, savoring each spoonful. Prepared meals were so wasteful. What was the point of the spices, or of serving it at this temperature? It just changed the flavor, did nothing for the nourishment. Another spoonful. She licks her lips. So frivolous...

When the lizardman speaks up, saying something about the customers being displeased, she turns around. She compares what she detected and what she saw, something didn't match. She follows the spot that looked empty, tilting her head. Unconciously, she runs the thumb on one of her hands over her fingers, making a clicking sound when the nail met flesh. Easy, this is a civilized establishment, but very well, lets see. She closes her eyes for a moment and opens them slightly wider.

Using Ipos's Flash of Insight, for 1 round of True Seeing.

[3SecondCultist]

Immith, invoking one of the powers beyond reality that she is chained to, manages to make the most of her new vision. Although at first she cannot see exactly where the lithe figure of Tarith has gone, her mental acuity picks up the traces of his consciousness near the double doors that the lizardman has moved away from. The very same guard, growling in irritation when his summons aren't heeded, tosses back a chair with one clawed hand. "Listen here, you little sh*t," he hisses into the darkness, evidently not having noticed the shadow's disappearance. "I didn't die and turn into a lizard just so I could guard doors. Phoebus has better things to do than that. So if you're gonna draw this out, I promise I will hurt you for wasting my time."

Tarith himself, having gotten to the door, finds the portal securely locked against his passage. Not only do the handles have no give, but there don't seem to be any latches or keyholes in sight. It must open from the inside somehow. He's only stymied for a second, but a second is all it takes.

The drow Terezina does not make it a few paces down one of the multifaceted hallways that leads out the Thirteenth Hour before her face slackens slightly, before adopting a very different sort of smile than before. Where once the maiden was coy and suggestive, here the whites of Zina's teeth are reminiscent of a sated lioness idly watching a herd of gazelles. "Well damn," she echoes Will's words from moments ago. Her lips are moving, but it's not her voice anymore. "You were simply going to walk out of here with a an ensorcelled seductress. That requires either surety of talent or a severe lack of survival instinct. I would keep up the charade, but you already know. More importantly, I know you you know."

Looking around the bar, you can see that every other patron has stopped what they are doing. Any pretense at normality has been utterly shattered in the wake of this revelation, with patron and staff alike simply standing stock still and staring at the six of you. The lizardman's anger washes out of him like a stone as he presses a hand to the double doors, and they open. They wait for you to pass before resuming their activities as though you were never here at all.

"If you wouldn't mind stepping inside," Phoebus calls out to all of you. "I'm waiting."

[Snowbluff]

Rain

"Alright, get up," Rain says to Sasha, bapping the tiger on the nose. Sasha complies. The pair walk to the door. "I hope this charade was worth it for you. Thanks to somebody, I didn't even get to enjoy my drink," Rain tells Phoebus unimpressed. "I would like to know the reasoning. It'll bother me all evening if I have to ponder it, which would be sufficiently distracting from your offer." Rain only arrived in the first place out of curiosity. The money wasn't so much an impetus as the person who would need her assistance. On the other hand, having some coins to maybe buy Sasha a nice collar wouldn't be too bad, but Sasha hasn't been behaving anyway.

[Archmage1]

Not missing a beat, Tarith looks up at the lizardman as he opens the door, but his mask betrays no emotion. With nothing else to do, Tarith starts down the corridor. All a test? One that one failed. And the potential client enjoys large scale mind control..

[CozJa]

Definitely amused by the whole scene, especially the drink spilling and drow enchanting part, Quilvarin listens to the different voice coming from the woman, then decides to join the rest of the group.
"Looks like I underestimated some of the clients here." He thinks to himself, considering that the large scale mind controlling part is amusing only if he's not on the recieving hand of it.

[Ryuuk]

Immith

It was strange to see the lizardman lash out in anger at the darkness beneath the table. She kept track of the original source, as long as it stayed away and did not threaten her, she had no complaint. Once the staff and other patrons break character, her own unflinching gaze meets theirs. She simply nods, gently. You should have noticed they were acting under an influence. How did you not? She ignores this. The frivolous meal had sat well at least.

She leaves her spot at the bar and makes her way past Phoebus, through the double door.

[LairdMaon]

Error stands up and looks around the room at the formerly controlled pawns. He takes about bite from the halfling leg and mutters, "Puppets." with disdain.

He remarks to Will, "Called the bluff, well done."

Grinding meat, bone, and gristle in his jaws, he walks through the double doors and finds a wall to lean against.

[BelGareth]

Will mocks horror, which quickly changes to a **** eating grin, he takes another sip, he was enjoying this drink.

"Well my dear, you either double down, or you fold, and I'm not one to fold easily, though, I do like to hedge my bets, either way, it seemed like I was in for a good night." winking, he shrugged and stepped off, leaving the drowess alone, he was sure he would have another enemy on his tail if she ever escaped her current captor.

As he moved off, he noticed all the other actors in the room had stopped, and everyone who had entered were all looking about, well, it wasn't the first time he had broken a whole room of people. He performed a shallow bow "You're welcome." He said mockingly, turned to Rain he nodded in genuine appreciation, and then turned to enter the room.

[3SecondCultist]

"I will make sure a second drink is sent to you," the lizard guard says in response to Rain's outburst by the double doors. "Now, would you kindly step inside? I will explain everything, I promise." True to his (her?) word, Marten immediately starts to get a new glass ready and reaches one of the cabinets to fetch more milk for the frostblood orc. The rest of you press on through the doors and into the hallway beyond.

Tarith, having already pushed through, is the first to arrive at the end of the passage. At the top of a flight of stairs, the hall opens up into a lavishly appointed chamber, complete with a flickering fireplace at the far side of the room. While not overly large, the smoothly carved stone and richly colored tapestries along the walls speak to a particular brand of understated opulence. At first glance, all of these scenes appear to be landscapes. Here, a mountain. There, a garden or a coastline under stormy weather. Those of you that choose to look closer, however, notice a few sinister details woven into the backgrounds. A few skulls hide in the shadows of the rock face. The far rows of the garden are being fed with blood. There are the dark blotches of sailors drowning after a presumed shipwreck.

A long table of polished, seamless dark wood dominates the middle of the room. There are exactly seven seats, all made from the same material. There is no way to tell how this furniture was made, as there are absolutely no signs of any of it ever having been touched by mortal tools. Laid out atop the table is a sumptuous summer feast: meats and vegetables from worlds of all assortments. You spy ashi bread with honey from the Shadow Marches, next to two plates of glistening smoked rothé sausage. A bushel of Cormyrian apples and luxurious faro fruit from the wastes of Athas lie together in a wooden bowl, promising sweet release. A second bowl, this one containing smoking grilled halloumi from Zief, emits a powerful and heady aroma that attacks your noses relentlessly. All told, the food here could probably buy a small village.

"Please, everyone take a seat. There's no need to stand on ceremony here." The speaker sits at the far end of the table, her outline illuminated against the backdrop of the smokeless flames roiling in the grand fireplace. Her voice is a low contralto, speaking with an effortless musicality that seems entirely genuine. As you move further into the room, you get a good look at her. The Lady has waves of rich chestnut brown hair that reach just past her shoulders, framing her fair heart-shaped face in just the right amount of shadow. Whereas Zina oozed sensuality, this woman appears to have a friendly, earnest smile. Her dress might as well be tailored from pure shadow, that's how dark it is. The cloth almost seems to absorb the light. But what really draws your attention are the Lady's eyes: they are completely dark, with no pupil or iris. Instead, there are pinpricks of what looks a lot like starlight behind them.

"Before we get started, I'd like to apologize for the theater show. First impressions are hard to get right, and I wanted to get a measure of you before meeting you face to face. You're a very colorful group of people; you can hardly fault me for being curious. Now please, avail yourselves to some food and drink, introduce yourselves, and relax while I explain how I'm going to make you rich beyond your wildest dreams."

[Archmage1]

Having casually walked up the stairs, Tarith gives the room a quick once over as he shifts to the side, to wait for the others to follow. Tapestries... could be concealing a secret chamber behind them, but I'm not seeing any movement. A feast fit for a king, but considering that she mind controlled everyone in the room, probably not worth risking eating anything first. Nice dress, however. I wonder if I can get any of that material? Without a word, Tarith pulls out one of the end seats, and takes it. His mask remains in place, offering little hint as to his own identity. After a few moments, it occurs to him to be somewhat polite, and he speaks one word, his voice harsh, and abrupt. "Tarith."

[Ryuuk]

Immith

Looking over the tapestries, the hidden details remind her of the forest surrounding her home. The banquet was grand if unnecesary, but if it was an indicator of the reach and riches that the Lady in Black could grant for services offered, then she was in the right place. This was a potential patron, she keeps this in mind as she offers a short bow in thanks and takes a seat. The part of her that did not belong to her alone recoiled at the thought, and judged this 'earnest' sorceress harshly, but she ignored it.

"Thank you." She takes one of the seats closest to their host. she'd been asked to introduce herself. Very well, she yearns for knowledge. She straightens herself, and speaks clearly. "I am a medium for Zceryll, a practitioner of pact magic. My name is Immith Stayanoga."

[BelGareth]

Will looks at the tapestries and nods to the slight quirks therein, he wouldn't be surprised if they were portals to other worlds, or demiplanes in an of themselves, it would be what he would do if he had the power to do so.

He liked his new employer, she had a certain panache to her actions, she many people lacked that in current circles, this was a thrilling idea just being near her. Of course, the power she radiated wasn't off putting either.

Taking a seat, and cutting off a piece of smoked rothé sausage and Cormyrian apple, and placed them on his plate. Food was still a delicacy to him, and well, if the food was already a delicacy, it was all the more exquisite. Anyone paying attention, would notice he had some quirks of his own. He was extremely polite, and used utensils, cutting the food precisely, before taking the bite, skewering with his fork, and slowly placing it in his mouth, savoring, every, single, moment.

After taking a bite and audibly sighing, he looked up, finding an opening in the conversation and piped up.

"My name is Will, I'm a practitioner of the Will and the Word, we find power in the spoken word and I'm also a dabbler in the arts of gambling and sorcery, though, I've heard of powerful Mindbenders, I've never met one quite as powerful as you."

[Snowbluff]

Rain

Rain responds to Will's respectful nod by tousling his hair. She might have nodded back, but that would simply be silly after he ran headlong into danger despite her warning. He still earns some points for the thought, and despite being a half orc, her gesture isn't particularly rough. In fact, she seems quite weak for an orc.

"I'm Rain, crazy cat lady," she says flippantly. She pulls Sasha away from Error, and says "this is Sasha. Cat."

[CozJa]

Quilvarin enters and observes the room. He finds the tapestry amazingly beautiful, and loses himself in the imageplay of skulls and stones, reminding him of his days spent in the underdark.
As the others start seating, he bow at their guest, then choose one seat and does it as well, taking a slice of bread.

As the others start presenting themselves, the ghost elf considers that it may be quite useless for the Lady in Black, since she clearly knows them, maybe even a bit more than he is comfortable with. That said, getting to know those stranger he may spend some time with is a welcome deviation to his normal routine in the planar inn.

"My name is Quilvarin; I am a scholar in the art of molding negative energies and follower of the ways of the Eternal Dragons."

[LairdMaon]

The black warforged follows last. He nods at each of his new partners, with a flat "Fancy." to all. "I kill things. It's usually messy, but I've been known to clean up after my meals. See, I eat things."

With surprisingly quiet steps, makes his way for the mounds of food and snatches up a handful. "Speaking of which..." He begins shoveling the expensive fare threw his grinding teeth.

[3SecondCultist]

The Lady smiles with a grace that is far too heartfelt to be anything but benevolent. "It's wonderful to officially meet you all. I have many names, but for now you may call me the 'Black', or 'Lady' for short. Not lady, you understand - I can hear the difference."

"As for why you are all here: my role is behind the scenes, an operator. I get things done for people when they need doing. The job doesn't matter to me, as long as I get something out of the bargain. In the past, I used handle cases myself, but some time ago I became too busy for legwork. So I hired out contractors, adventurers for hire who could take on any number of jobs for me. You are one such team, assembled in the wake of a rising demand for jobs that are... less than scrupulous. Assassination, sabotage, spycraft: these are but some of the tasks I would have the six of you undertake on my behalf." The Lady stops speaking for a moment, sampling a taste of rich dark liquid from a silver chalice that stands near her left hand. Her pause has nothing to do with letting all of you absorb the content of her words, of course.

"If you aren't interested, I'll pay for your food and drink, and you'll be free to go on your way. I'm only interested in people that want to work for me. If you decide to stay... then we can discuss the particulars."

[LairdMaon]

"Ah, Lady. I will kill for you. Just give me more to eat, yeah?"

"For some reason," he pulls out the remaining disembodied ankle and foot from his bag, everyone keeps forgetting to keep me fed. I don't think you will, Lady." He pops that last morsel in his jaws. "No, I think you'll keep me well fed. I can taste it!"

[Ryuuk]

Immith

A sorcerer of the Word and one who deals with dragons and the dead. Another may be a machine meant to serve as an Otyugh, while the rest keep to themselves. So these will be your coworkers? You must know more. Immith ignores her thoughts, unflinching eyes resting on Error's consumption, briefly, before turning back to the Lady.

She watches her drink from the chalice, trying to think through the noise. Most of those actions she could do, the first two well enough. The last could be arranged, she had the tools. "Those tasks should not be an issue if there is good travel and coin."

[Archmage1]

Still not touching the food, Tarith's inscrutable face nods, before he speaks. "Details." He doesn't react in the slightest to Error's insanity.

[BelGareth]

Sipping his drink, Will smiles and nods.

"Sounds interesting, I have need of some coin, probably more than others." he frowns at the last part, as if he wasn't sure he should have said it, and then visibly shrugs and continuing to spread butter on some bread he found.

[Snowbluff]

Rain

"I'm going to have to agree with the loquacious orator over there," Rain says pointing at Tarith. She's not interested in killing for money, unless she can further her own work through it. Of course, this kind of operation piques her curiosity innately. It could be hiding something more important.

[CozJa]

Quilvarin ponders the Lady's offer, appreciating her earnestness in explaining her needs; "Mh... legwork... I'm getting too old for this... but aging in this ageless place could be worse." He thinks to himself.

"I'm interested, money can be earned in many ways even here, but the occasion to travel the planes again is too good to pass up. Now, I'm pretty sure those 'particulars' you mentioned may be worth our attention."

[3SecondCultist]

When confronted with Error's erratic eating, the Lady's smile only broadens into a bright beaming grin. "I'd heard that you had unusual appetites, and I'm glad to see that my associates weren't wrong! I will do my best to keep you fed."

Turning to the rest of the group, your prospective employer reaches into the midnight folds of her clothing to produce a single piece of parchment. After all of the pomp and displays of opulence, this note seems quite mundane, but as you glance over the elegant script there, you start to piece together the details.

Dear Professionals,

Your first target is an unknown entity that operates somewhere in the vicinity of the third moon of Gethros. Nearly a month ago, a party of accelerationist Doomguard agents left Sigil in search of a ruin on that celestial body. It would appear that they found more than they had expected. One of the Doomlords - who shall remain anonymous - received a magical missive that claimed their group had found an ancient facility of some kind but was under attack from a beast they called 'the Eldritch'.

Our intelligence reports can only make the most haphazard guesses as to the identity of whatever killed or incapacitated the Doomguard party. The name 'Eldritch' does not appear to correspond to any particular alias or faction we are aware of, thus leading us to conclude that whatever happened to the Doomguard expedition was the work of a solitary agent or monster. Whatever it is, this being is powerful and resourceful enough to take out nearly an entire force of trained operatives with next to no warning.

Your assignment is to trace the steps of the Doomguard group to the Gethrani moon. Investigate this facility, find the 'Eldritch', and kill it. For this task, we are prepared to reward each of you 10,000 in any currency of your choosing.
"All of the pertinent details are there," the Lady says airily as the letter is passed around to each of you. "I'll add that this isn't a usual case for me. I've chosen it specifically for your group as a sort of trial run, a test of your abilities if you will. The starting fee is standard for agents on my payroll. Further missions will earn you better rates. If you wish to retain extra copies of this contract, just let me know and I can whip them up for you. Oh, and as long as you're working for me, you won't need to worry about transportation. I have a ship and crew on my payroll; they will be able to ferry you between planes."

"Now, do any of you have any questions, or are you all 'on board'?"

Those familiar with the layout or history of the star system of Gethros recognize it as a once-great empire that went extinct over a hundred thousand years ago. This civilization was comprised primarily of various castes of giants, who excelled in the fields of magic and science alike. The giant-kin that made up this empire is said to have been similar, but not identical to the kinds of giants that currently exist today, such as cloud or storm giants. They were purportedly quite enlightened and valued the pursuit of knowledge above all things.

It is thought that the primordial giants on other planes such as Eberron are actually descended from their number, although the provenance of the genealogy makes it hard to tell for certain. Whoever the Gethrani were, they had some sort of major impact on current day star and plane-faring civilizations through the advanced use of planar charts and other artifacts.

[LairdMaon]

Error doesn't even read the letter, just passing it on when it makes it's way to him. "Yeah, I got a question. Can someone read that for me?"

[Archmage1]

Reading through the document, Tarith's mind slowly starts coming alive, but three questions quickly form, and he speaks once more, his harsh voice out of place among the finery. "Extraction? Survivable environment? Proof of mission completion?"

A few moments later, Tarith registers the question, and nods. His voice remains harshly passive. "Go to Third moon of Gethros. Kill the Eldritch. Doomguards already failed. Trace them. Complete their mission. Not in that order. Pay ten thousand in any currency."

[LairdMaon]

"Kill something that slew Doomguards? I'm in."

[3SecondCultist]

The Lady nods graciously in response to Tarith's curt questioning. "For this assignment - and any future assignments, should you stay on past this mission - you will need to coordinate with the Good Venture for extraction purposes. They will be at your beck and call for as long as you work for me; suffice it to say that the captain owes me a debt."

"The third moon of Gethros is indeed an inhospitable environment. The atmosphere is too thin to support oxygen-breathing creatures, and the gravitational pull there is lighter than normal terrestrial planes. You will need to find your own way to adapt to the environment there, but I'm sure you are resourceful enough for such a feat. As far as proof of completion is concerned... you need not worry about that. I can monitor your progress from anywhere."

[Snowbluff]

Rain

Rain glances up and to the right. "I'm prepared for that contingency. Don't ask me why, I don't know either. Sometimes nature works in strange ways. " Rain doesn't like to think about the reasons she does some thing. Working this long with only Sasha for company led to many instinctual quirks that she can't keep track off. She even learned a category of magic without realizing it. Sasha makes a sympathetic noise for Rain.

It's an unspoken thought she was speaking of the atmosphere and the Lady's tracking.

[Ryuuk]

Immith's eyes widen as she looks over the parchement. A trip to a far off celestial body to investigate ancient ruins. She was pleased, this had potential, especially with the presence of an 'Eldritch'. She raises an eyebrow at the thought that one amongst those here could not read. The summary presented was suitable.

You must be glad to have me here. As long as I am with you, the climate of a moon will be inconsequential, remember that. She nods to herself, that was clear enough, fine.

"An expedition to the ruins left behind by giants more than a hundred millenia ago." Her voice is different, it drips with pride. She moves and emotes with a joy that was distinctly lacking before. "I must thank you for the opportunity, my Lady, I will make the most of this chance to visit Gethros."

[Archmage1]

Need air to live. No way to do it now. Going to be expensive. Tarith shakes his head. "Not survivable. Insufficient funds to prepare."

[CozJa]

The ghost elf's curiosity is piqued by Immith words: "Giant ruins? I see that in that matter you know more than I do. Please enlighten me, when you have time."

As the Lady speaks, Quilvarin ponders again her words, and considers those of his would-be companions.

"Our sweet talker here has got a point, though. The mission proposed seem to be quite difficult. I had dealings with the Doomguards in the past, and I know they are an unpredictable but capable group. If they were wiped out... well, can we know for sure that it was this Eldritch attacking them who ended them, and not some malfunctioning that got them killed by the hostile environment?"

The elf shifts on his seat, looking again at the paintings and around the room. He then shifts suddenly his eyes toward the Lady in Black

"I like this deal, Lady, and I'm sure you brought together a group such as this because you already know we can push toward the objective. That said, I'm concerned about the lack of faith and cohesion that we will inevitabily show in our first mission, if this will be the first of more. So, as much as I'm sure that you will live up to your part of the deal, would you be so gentle to show us some immediate generosity, maybe some trinket that could be useful to survive in this hostile environment? I'm pretty sure something like this would help many of us in being more at ease with risking our lives, and more focused on the task at hand."


Uh well, Diplomacy? [roll0]

[BelGareth]

Will turns his head as he listens, sipping on his drink, and taking small bites savoring the food. Rain had a way to deal with the vacuum? Interesting

Then the blasé comment about the lady being able to watch them wherever made him raise an eyebrow, she as much more powerful than he thought, that, or she had an excellent poker face, and balls of adamantium.

He decided he liked both prospects.

"My dear," he begins, talking to Rain, "Would you care to share how you can deal with these environmental issues? I know that I do love to breath, and well, going into space does sound fun, not breathing does not."

He then turns to the Lady in Black and gives her one of his dashing smiles. "And are you able and willing to provide us with aide in regards to the specific environmental issues? Or do we, as part of the test, need to go rob a bank to complete it, is resourcefulness a positive trait in this regards, while I'm sure it is, it would definitely waste both our time I think, perhaps you could help us out here?"

He pointedly ignored the comment from Tarith.


[roll0]

[Snowbluff]

Rain

Rain rolls her eyes. "Now you're begging for help," she says to Quilvarian and Tarith. "I've more than enough magic to cover the both of you. I can do it twice if you're aching for assurances." Rain is eager to move one. She doesn't feel like she's being served by sitting around. "As for 'cohesion,' if you all act like adults it shouldn't be a problem for us to work together. I have no need of harming any of you, and having you die fruitlessly would simply be a waste of nature's resources. Frankly your lack of trust is disturbing in its own right."

"It's simple planar magic," Rain says to Will. "I'll perform it before we depart, as it's limited to a 24 hour duration. The spell insulates the targets from harmful effects specific to a plane, including an unbreathable atmosphere and radiation. Also, I welcome your flattery, but understand little will come of it." Sasha the tiger saunters over and butts her had on Will.

[3SecondCultist]

The Lady's laughter is the tinkering of bells at midmorning. Those of you watching her face see little crow's feet around her eyes and mouth, the only real indicator of her age. The starry eyes glint with benign amusement, although you aren't sure if it is directed at Tarith's brusque bargaining or Will and Quilvarin's flattery. Either way.

"I was counting on one of you having an answer to the 'outer space' problem, and look! Here we are with a solution. Rain will be able to cover you while on the moon of Gethros. There is also no need to worry about most planar effects while on board the Good Venture; the entire ship is warded against those kinds of nuisances." The Lady pauses for a moment, her smile fading ever so slightly. She seems to consider both the elf and the man.

"However, since you asked so nicely, I can provide a bit of extra magical assistance as a back-up, should things go wrong. I have here a scroll that can protect all of you from vacuum conditions and radiation for the better part of half a day, if Rain's magic or the Good Venture fails you. It will need to be used by one gifted in the arcane arts, or otherwise has an ability to fool magical items." From the same place that she pulled the original contract, your employer removes a tightly bound vellum scroll and places it between Will and Quilvarin, inviting one of them to take it.

"I will be deducting a total cost equal to half of this item's fair market price from all of your contract totals equally," the Lady warns you. "You have not yet earned enough of my goodwill to take this scroll without paying some cost, but I will not hold it against you until the mission is complete."

The scroll in question is a scroll of planar tolerance (CL 11th, 4,125 gp). The effect wards you for 11 hours and should cover the entire party if necessary.

[LairdMaon]

Error looks up from his new plate of assorted delicacies and glares at the scroll. The way he bites into his snack betrays how upset he is about sacrificing a third of his pay for something that can do him no good.

The sound of crunching flatware isn't quiet at all.

[Archmage1]

Tarith looks around the room at his erstwhile allies. "Backups helpful."

[Ryuuk]

Immith gives a ghost elf a nod and a smile, "It would be my pleasure." She taps the side of her head and continues once Quilvarin finishes speaking, privately. <Admittedly, I know little beyond the fact that they were. Giants of different castes, masters of the arcane and science, enlightenend enough to value the pursuit of knowledge above all things. They were supposed to have been similar to the storm and cloud giants that remain. I want to believe that, like in ruins of other dead civilizations, there may still be something of worth amongst the bone and rot.>

See how invaluable I am? As the others speak, she takes a deep breath and seems to return to a much more reserved demeanor. As valuable as one of three layers. She watches the scroll carefully, less gold, but more options. The cube in her haversack was empty, after all.

"We should not have to resort to it, but to have it would be better than to not."

[3SecondCultist]

"So it's settled then!" The Lady claps her hands together in excitement. "I'm aware this is all very sudden, but trust me when I say that you were the most reliable crew of unscrupulous professionals with questionable ethics that I could scrounge together at the last minute! In all seriousness, I have every confidence that you are the crew I am looking for. The six of you - sorry, Sasha, make that seven - are going to be perfect for this line of work."

Folding away the few wrinkles in her otherwise immaculate gown, your patron rises to her feet. Her hair falls around her shoulders, giving her high cheekbones and sculpted neck a perfect contour. As she gets up, you notice a silver pendant tucked away beneath her hemline, which she quickly but carefully obscures from view with a single hand motion. "Now then," the Lady says with a sweep of her hand at a space of unoccupied room. "If you all agree to this trial run, then we should get on with it."

Suddenly, the air where the Lady is pointing ripples and splits. In easy violation of the natural laws of the World Serpent Inn, a magical doorway into nothingness appears before you, wide enough for even Error to fit easily within its frame. As you look more closely, you can see that the apparent void beyond is actually just a pall of shadow, and you can actually make out lights and the sounds of called voices from the other side. Whatever destination the Lady is showing you is not some hellhole, but rather the next step on your journey.

"The Good Venture awaits your departure. I'd give you the tour myself, but I'm needed elsewhere."

Seeing the myriad arcane signs of overpowering conjuration, you recognize the spell being cast as an extended gate, in spite of the demiplane's traits.

[Archmage1]

Not wasting time, Tarith gets up, and looks through the portal, to assess the destination. He seems to more with an unnatural swiftness, but every step seems planned.


[roll0] Spot
[roll1] Listen

[BelGareth]

Will, sipping on his drink eyes the scroll, he didn't know what it was, not without a cantrip, and he couldn't do anything like that in this place, he didn't know how, hell, he didn't know how he cast spells normally, let alone in a place like this, he was no mage. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured she was genuine, and took the scroll, pocketing it in a pocket.

Standing, pushing his chair backwards, he looked to everyone else, who seemed to have stopped and just looked at the portal, sighing again, he shrugged his shoulders and stepped through.

[LairdMaon]

Error glances back at their 'benefactor', "We'll be back."

His plate and everything on it comfortably eaten, the warforged lumbers through the portal.

[Ryuuk]

Carefully, Immith pushes her chair back and stands. She closes her eyes and lowers her head before this new benefactor, and quietly steps through the portal. On crossing it, she scans the vicinity, trying to identify the voices coming from the other side.

I'd like a look through Mindsight, if possible. Number of minds, types and Int scores of those within 100ft.

I'm also curious about the Lady, but I'm expecting her to not be picked up through Mindsight.

[Snowbluff]

Sasha

Sasha saunters over to the Lady and bumps her head into her.

"Stop that and get over here," Rain says quietly, but gruffly. Sasha complies reluctantly.

They head through the portal, but Rain's interest has been piqued. She is questioning the Lady's status.


[roll0] spot on the pendant
[roll1] Sense Motive
[roll2] arcane just in case

[3SecondCultist]

Looking ahead and through the planar lens, you get a better idea of what is on the other side. The lights come from regularly placed lanterns, which illuminate a wooden surface you realize is a deck. The voices come from a few men and women wearing standing near the other side, who appear to be looking in towards you. Words float over the boundaries of space and time, although you only pick up a few snippets of it through the gate.

"... through now. Somebody go get the captain!"

"I believe now is when we say our farewells," the Lady says as first Tarith and then the rest of you begin to step towards the breach. "Best of luck with your first assignment! Hopefully you all make it out of there alive. And if not, well then it was a genuine pleasure knowing you for a few minutes." The last statement would be a lot less ominous if the Lady did not look and sound completely sincere while delivering it. She catches Rain studying her pendant and gives her an open wink before giving you all a wave as Quilvarin - the last of you - steps through the gate and over to the other side. Then, just like that, the portal closes.


What lies beyond is open sky... or at least, it should be sky. The air here is heavy and thick with roiling green-grey clouds, with no end in sight. There is no land or water around you, and yet your feet are on solid ground. Taking stock of your immediate surroundings, you see that your original assessment was true: you are on the deck of a large airship. By the looks of it, the craft has been modeled after the classic Eberron soarwood design, about fifty feet wide and at least six times that in length. You're closer to the stern end so the forecastle isn't visible from your position, but you see a raised quarterdeck armed with a monstrous ballista, and a sterncastle complete with a proper helm. Those of you familiar with these kinds of flying vessels would recognize such a helm as a magical Wheel of Wind and Water, a House Lyrandar artifact. All told, the airship seems pretty standard at first, if a bit worn in.

That is, until you look at the binding struts.

Where normally a series of four stabilizing pillars would hold the bound elemental that powers the ship in place, here there are only two. More to the point, they do not look like standard stabilizing struts. Metal springs and coils surround a pair of monstrous looking conduits, which regulate and disperse the elemental energies throughout the ship. They are attached to what appears to be a thin metal ring that encircles the center of the ship. Around the ring flows tightly coiled lightning, a living storm that hugs the airship in a grip that is too far away to be lethal and too close to be comfortable. Surprisingly the entire apparatus is next to noiseless, the light show appearing without any accompaniment of thunder.

"Don't worry, everyone gets used to it after a while." The gravelly voice brings you back to the deck, where a number of crew mates in varying styles of dress have stopped working to watch your arrival. The speaker is near the front of the pack, a hulking figure in stone-like muscle standing nearly seven feet tall. His cloth is plain and unadorned, but it's clear that he takes care of his polished armor and monstrous purple crystal axe he wears over his shoulder. The figure's skin is broken only by the gem-like lithoderms that jut out from his joints and musculature. One of his pale blue eyes is clouded over, owing from a series of scars that take up the left side of his face. "The name's Lanath, but you can call me Thunderbraid. Everyone here does. I'm the ship's bosun. Welcome to the Good Venture."

Within the range of her Mindsight, Immith picks up 9 other minds that aren't members of the party. Most of them are humanoids with relatively average Intelligence scores (anywhere between 8-12), but there are two exceptions. The first is the fellow who introduced himself as the Thunderbraid, who is a monstrous humanoid with an Intelligence of 12. The second is an elf woman dressed in black who is walking down the deck to introduce herself. She is humanoid, but has an Intelligence of 24.

[CozJa]

As the Lady opens the portal, Quilvarin listens to Immith thelepatic words, nodding thankfully for the explanation, then considers everything that happened, trying to remember the most important things about their new 'contractor'.

"So, that Lady has enough power to be able to scry on us, thought that could be a bluff, and must have some kind of deal with the higher ups in this place. Interesting."

Slowly, still looking around, the ghost elf rises, and moves toward the portal, waiting for his other companions to get through, after all, you never know what can be out there; when he dosen't hear screams of horror, Quilvarin steps through.

(...)

Startled by the view of this ship, Quilvarin looks around, paying particular attention at the Elelemental propulsion system, not that he knows that much about those things, but some of it brings him back memory about his studies on Necromentals.
As Thunderbraid presents himself, Quilvarin bows and answers back. "A pleasure to meet you, master Thunderbraid, I suppose you are here to guide us to our destination?"

[Archmage1]

Not seeing any threats, and seeing people moveing around on the other side of the portal, Tarith steps through, quickly sliding to the side afterwards, both to clear the way, and to reduce his chances of being caught in a trap on the other side.
Luckily, nothing happens.

After arriving, he looks around the flying boat, and... has no real idea what he was looking at, beyond a lot of stuff to not touch. He doesn't speak.

[Ryuuk]

Crossing through, Immith breifly looks over the ship before closing her eyes and focusing on the crew. Her expression giving little away, she simply nods at Thundebraid's introduction and lets the others take the lead. They were the arranged transport, she needed little from them beyond that.

You should not even need that... Your employer would have been nothing to me. There was some frustration here and she found herself looking at the woman coming from the deck through narrowed eyes. She was used to being eclipsed by the one in charge, but part of her was not. She shakes her head and blinks, idly turning back to Thunderbraid.

[Snowbluff]

Rain

"Arrr it looks like we be seeing some fine sailors on these here waters. Shiver me timbers," Rain says. She doesn't hang out with nautical folk often.

Sasha gives her a look while tilting ehr head.

"Right, sorry, I'll stop. I'm Rain," she says more seriously.

[3SecondCultist]

"I'm a member of the crew," the Thunderbraid rumbles in response to Quilvarin, a touch of what could very well be amusement on his stony features. He stares at Rain when the frostblood orc makes her impression, but doesn't deign her with a response. "I'm not much of a guide though, truth be told. I'm guessing you lot haven't spent much time aboard a ship? Come on, let me introduce you to everyone."

The circle around you grows slightly smaller as the curious faces press in. Most of the crew mates are humans, and of that number nearly all of them are men. There seem to be about a dozen all in all, not including the large figure posed by the Thunderbraid. "This here's Lodan, our ship's carpenter. Phaedrus, one of our ship's mates. And would you look at that, the Queen of Poisons herself decided to show up!" He signals the arrival of a sunburned half-orc woman with a particularly sloppy naval salute. The figure, who carries a truly breathtaking number of knives at her belt, wipes a bit of blood onto the front of her leather jerkin and glares at the goliath in response.

"Well I've been trying to kill you for years and it still won't take, so I'd say the title is up for grabs. Hemlocke, I'm the ship's cook." She leans towards Tarith, as he is the closest member of your group. "No need to worry, love. I wouldn't poison you unless there was any real profit in it. As it happens, most of us are paid far too well in this outfit for that sort of thing."

"So," a third voice cuts into the conversation, "you would be the 'professionals' that the Lady has sent us. My name is Maugrim Amascient, I am the resident mage and planar navigator here on the Good Venture." As the source of the voice steps forward, you get a better look at her. Maugrim bears the haughty cheekbones and eerily symmetrical features that only an elf can command. Her tanned skin is the color of deep bronze, a stark contrast against her pure black hair. She wears simple, elegant robes of dark grey cloth that have been fastidiously cleaned and folded at the edges. Across her brow, she wears a circlet of an unknown dark metal, which is tucked behind her ears. Maugrim's eyes are a startling gold, at once intensely focused and incredibly bored: as though she has already seen through you, read you like a book and is ready to move on to the next interesting tidbit of information.

[Ryuuk]

Immith listens and nods along at the introductions. There was little of consequence in them, but regardless this was part of the job. She turns to Maugrim, pointing to herself as she speaks. "Immith. Yes, we have just discussed the job with her. I, believe that it would be in our best interest to complete it swiftly and efficiently." He voice changes from a deadpan to a hint of good humor as she goes on. "How long will the trip to Gethros take?"

[Archmage1]

Looking around, Tarith continues to wait paitently, his dark form almost unnaturally still, but when the Queen leans in, he leans back, and smiles at her. Not a nice smile, but a cruel smile, full of confidence. "Poison ineffective."

[LairdMaon]

The metal man's eyes fixate on the bloody apron. "Queen of Poisons, is that fresh flesh-juice? Newly butchered? I am very hungry..."

[BelGareth]

Will merely smiles and nods as if happy with the arrangement of the ship.

His eyes light up at the mention of the mage, and a hint of competitive lust washes over him, but fades as he adjusts. He simply gawks over the scenery, drinking everything in, to include the conversation happening around him.

[3SecondCultist]

The half-orc woman lets out a great belly laugh at Error's proclamation, before fixing both Tarith and the warforged with a vulpine grin. "Oh, I like you guys. I like them, Thunderbraid! Can we keep them? I've got tonight's feast brewing downstairs, come and see!" She starts to beckon the two of them towards one of the portholes that lead down belowdecks, only for the granite-skinned bosun to shake his head slightly.

"They get the tour first... unless they want to skip it."

Maugrim, for her part, eyes both Immith and Will with further interest. The blue gleam behind her eyes speaks of sorcerous power as she openly picks apart the enchantments on both figures. "Not an enchantment, an aspect perhaps? No matter. To answer your question, the duration of the trip will depend on a variety of factors. The Good Venture is equipped with a planar drive, an engine that navigates between the planes and can send the entire ship and its contents to different realms. We use the Plane of Shadow to traverse between existences, but the method is imprecise at the best of times, comparable to hitting a target while blindfolded after having imbibed a copious amount of alcohol. Theoretically speaking, of course."

"Oh yeah of course, theoretically." Hemlocke lets out a quiet chuckle, which earns her a glare from the elf in black. The cook either misses it or ignores it, as she continues unabated. "Let's call a spade a spade: we all huddle belowdecks to wait out the nightmares while this one and the Captain steer the ship through the universe's shady assh*le."

[Archmage1]

Tarith starts to follow Hemlocke, but pauses as the tour is interrupted, and simply waits.

[Snowbluff]

Rain

The druid half orc eyes the half orc cook suspiciously. Her upbringing taught her to distrust orcs and their kin. "Hm, poison I can handle. Orcs, perhaps not."

Sense motive [roll0]

[LairdMaon]

"So much waiting. I'd like to see the bodies before they cool off. Cold flesh-juice is less than pleasant."

[Ryuuk]

She saw something. As Maugrim speaks, Immith absentmindedly clenches and releases her right fist. An onlooked just saw a hand with black nails, but she felt the dagger-like digits and rough, aberrant flesh with each twitch. How much, I wonder?

Outwardly, she clung to every word. "To take this entire vessel and its crew through the plane of shadows, what power!" She turns to the conduits as if seeing them for the first time, nodding with excitement. She chuckles at Hemlocke's comment, "If you can come and go through it reliably, it sounds better than other methods. Regardless, I would love to see these 'nightmares' first hand, would there be room above deck for one more?"

[CozJa]

Quilvarin keeps observing the ship, paying as little attention as needed to the crew members. He prefers to be polite, and the newly came elf is surely an interesting sight, but he knows all too well that is better to consider them expendables in his march toward the future, exactly as they probably think about him.

He takes a mental note to pay a visit to the half-orc 'cook', thinking it may be of use in getting to see some still unknown poison, and considers asking Maugrim if she has some rare spell components aviable, after all, the departure from the World Serpent Inn was so sudden he didn't even have the time to spend the money he won from Kraksha.

"Better to wait for this 'tour' to end." thinks the ghost elf.

[BelGareth]

Will nods and takes a sip of his drink, "Oh yes! a Tour!"