Peril & Fame: Interlude (IC)

[Nefarion Xid]

Chapter 1 - High and Dry

It’s just a little rain. That’s what you thought six hours ago and now it shows no sign of stopping. It's only gotten worse and it’s not yet sundown. Not that it matters, black as it is in this storm.

You can make out the dim blue-white glean of cobbles beneath your feet. The Old Empire’s roads are slick as sin when wet, polished by a thousand years of boots and weather, but at least they’re level and you can follow them blind. They always lead somewhere. Usually it’s somewhere good.

When the lightning flashes, you see the arches and piers of a bridge ahead. Bridges mean rivers. Rivers mean civilization. Civilization means warm food. Normally, a river wouldn’t be the safest place in a torrential downpour, but the bridge is ancient. It’s hasn’t washed away yet and it’s been here an age or two, flash floods be damned. It will probably still be here when this kingdom crumbles and everyone’s speaking a different language. Maybe the praefecti are laughing at the people living ephemeral lives in the ruins of their empire, but they’re as dead as everyone else.

Half a mile off yet, you discern the outline of some sort of gatehouse or tiny castle, a squat L-shaped tower complex at the midpoint of the bridge, rising straight out of the rocky island. The glow of a fire is visible through the arched windows on the lower level. After an evening caught out in a storm, it might as well be the open gates of Heaven.

The temperature is hovering around 40 degrees and the soaking rain is absolutely miserable.

Describe how you might have kept the rain off of you. This is probably a Survival check with a DC of 16 unless you think of an appropriate spell or something else very creative. Should you fail to stay dry, make a DC 16 Fortitude save vs Fatigue. This Fatigue can thankfully be alleviated by an hour of rest, dry clothes and warming up.

Go ahead and post once, and then I will update before you reach the bridge.

You very pleased with yourself for knowing the proper declension for 'praefectus'. Unfortunately, you also believe that Praefectus just a really common given name because it's always first on all these old statues. Like, if you wanted your kid to be successful enough to get statues made in his image, name him Praefectus. They always got some great government job. Naming your kid Hastatus is just setting him up for failure because there are tons of grave markers with HASTATVS written on them.

You have a hefty resistance to Cold. The cold rain is more of an annoyance than a source of misery, thus you do not have to make a Fortitude save.

[Tychris1]

"I guess I grew up on an old dirt road
Petal made o' metal always did what I was told
'Till I found out that my brand new clothes
Came second hand from the rich kids next door
When I grew up fast I guess I grew up mean
There's a thousand things inside my head I wish I ain't seen
And now I just wander through a real bad dream
Feelin' like I'm coming apart at the seams..."

The young woman slowly sang to herself as she sat amidst the weathered trees, left leg hanging haphazardly off the branch she was laying on, and her hands were quickly at work threading together a clump of leaves with her rope. Snaking around the length of rotten wood, its stained form became suddenly rigid as she pirouetted off the side, and landed on the wet ground. Rope in hand, she gave it a smirk, snorted, and without looking the rope untied itself and began to coil around her body forming an impromptu rain coat. Bristling with mud and leaves she smiled and began to skip ahead to the bridge.


[roll0]

[Othniel]

A tall, thin man trudged forward. He was cold, colder than he should have been, but he wasn't dressed for the weather, wearing only a loose linen outfit. The last nice place he'd been hadn't had any rain, and he'd become too comfortable. He glanced up as the lightning flashed and his hopes rose as he glimpsed first the bridge and then the structure in the distance. He grasped the hilt of the curved knife on his belt as if to reassure himself of its presence and pressed onward, the hope of warmth and food giving him the focus to shrug off the elements.

[zabbarot]

It was miserable out, but he had seen worse. He was going to need a fire to dry out his cloak though. Not much of a chance of getting that in some random burrow, assuming he could even find one out here, but the lights ahead looked promising. He hopped a little faster in anticipation of being out of the rain.


Survival! [roll0]
Fort Save, because i doubt that will succeed [roll1]

[Tychris1]

”Ew, sh*t.... agh, muh mouth too? Facken hells, wait.” She stopped trudging against the rain and turned her back against the wind. Shaking herself loose, she dropped the end of her rope upon the ground, and watched as the straight length of rope instantly turned into a noose when touching the ground. Gazing into its gaping hole she glanced from side to side on the old cobble road and shrugged.

“Fukkit. It’s not too far away.”

She let the rope limply drag behind her, snickering as it snaked about seemingly of its own accord, and continued to whistle her jaunty tune.

[Jade_Tarem]

That the rain was not an immediate threat to Tombossa didn't mean he wasn't annoyed. Still, he'd learned long ago that no one likes a whiner, so he kept a sardonic grin fixed firmly in place and carried on, long feline tail lashing behind him in a whip of white and scarlet to showcase his agitation. He didn't quite know the history of these lands, or the local forecast, or even where the hell they were, but people? Tombossa knew people, and with this knowledge came the realization that trite words of empty encouragement would get him punched. Instead he strode forth fabulously, putting just a bit of forced swagger into his march. Follow me! I know what I'm doing!

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

Frederick was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

There had been several of those lately, but with as hard as the rain was pouring down, he had no time to reminisce on past happenings. Shivering mightily, he pulled his grey-green cloak tightly around his grey-furred body, trying as best he could to keep warm. He let out a silent prayer that at the very least his backpack was waterproof, as he had very little idea of what he would do if anything inside got damaged. Marching steadily ahead, he tried as best he could to keep one paw moving in front of the other, muttering a cadence in a soft and listless voice.

"Whoa whoa, whoa whoa,
Whoa whoa, I gotta go,
Whoa whoa, whoa whoa,
Whoa whoa, I gotta go,
Momma, momma, can't you see,
What adventure's done to me?
Momma, momma, can't you see,
What adventure's done to me?

Of robes and furs, I had sixteen,
Now my cloak is grey and green,
Of robes and furs, I had sixteen,
Now my cloak is grey and green..."

Then, he stopped. Peering through the rain, he squinted as best he could - though his nose was more sensitive than most people's, his eyesight was a little less sensitive. Even so, through the driving rain, he could see the silhouette of the bridge and tower - and, far more importantly, the fire within.

Beginning the cadence once again, he began trudging toward the bridge. Perhaps tonight would not be so bad.

Let's roll to see how successful Frederick is at not getting soaked to the bone.

Survival: [roll0]
In the likely event that fails, Fortitude roll vs DC 16: [roll1]

Frederick is now fatigued.

[Nefarion Xid]

Mysterious Woman

A section of the road washed away long ago in a storm like this one. A dark brown scar traces from a nearby hill, across the old road, and down to the deep riverbanks on your left. Normally the ten foot gap (three feet deep) wouldn't be an issue, but with this volume of rain, if you try to walk across the muddy ditch, there's a real chance you'll loose your boots or worse.

Before you can decide between making the leap or simply hiking up the hill a bit to go around, you notice an unevenness to the mud. Even obscured by an inch of running water, you make out what are clearly the boot prints of a dozen or so people trudging straight through. Mingled in with the boots are other prints as well. You needn't guess what manner of creature they belong to as your gaze follows their path to one of them. Half buried in the mud, an animated human skeleton grasps feebly at the wall of stone above him. Its fingers cannot find purchase and its mindless struggling only makes it sink deeper.

Man with the Curved Knife

Nearing the foot of the bridge, you come to a T in the road. Your approach was the one in line with the bridge, but a narrower road crosses here, running parallel to the river. You are briefly alarmed to find a torso crawling across your path. Thankfully, it's only a lone decrepit skeleton. Still alarming, but not a mortal threat to you. A baleful violet light resides in each eye socket, but it pays you no mind as it trudges forward, shuffling with a rusty longsword in one hand and making better use of the other to drag itself along the cobbles.

Everyone Else

You arrive at the summit of the bridge serendipitously at the same moment. Regardless of your initial disposition towards one another, there is a collective sigh of relief as you find that the old keep proclaims itself to be an inn. There is a slate sign with a painting of the bridge in profile and a not-to-scale bed and frothing glass tankard on top. Despite whatever colorful name the illiterate locals must have for the establishment, "Waystone" is clearly printed beneath in Cielish.

While there are no windows on the ground floor, there is a light coming from the green tinted second story windows. Wooden steps (clearly not part of the original structure) lead up to a narrow patio and the front door on the second story.

Despite the dull roar of the rain and wind, you hear men arguing up the stairs.

Describe yourselves as others might see you.

[Tychris1]

"Huh. Don' see that everyday." The woman remarked as she pulled on her clothes for protection against the elements. Squinting her eyes she rubbed the bottom of her chin in a brief epoch of manic contemplation between curiosity or caution.

She chose curiosity

Slowly lurching forward she attempted to stealthily and quietly approach the skeleton in an effort to see if it had anything of interest upon it.


[roll0]

[Othniel]

Quickly dispatching the mobile skeletal remains with a glob of acid, the man with the curved dagger hesitated. He yearned to get out of the elements, and yet...curiousity held him in its grasp. He began to follow the narrower path. Just a short distance, he told himself.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

In the end, despite his best efforts at keeping his cloak closed, the wind and wet had pierced through, and he truly looked like a drowned rat. Although, given that he was a ratfolk, this wasn't exceptionally hard.

As he came upon the sign, however, his yellow eyes lit up with anticipation as, for once that day, luck seemed to be in their favor, the promise of a warm fire and possibly even hot food awaiting him. He turned to face the others who had chanced upon the sign at the same time as he, and knew that he must look a sight - a three and a half-foot tall humanoid rat, his grey-furred snout matted black by the pouring rain. He wore a grey-green camouflage-patterned cloak close, its hem well-worn from frequent use, and held it close in a battle against the elements. Beneath, in the dim light from the inn, one might have also spotted the telltale shine of studs in leather armor, and a well-made canvas backpack and ornately carved blue bow were slung over his back.

Frederick tried to let out some pleasantries, his teeth chattering as he spoke.

"P-p-pretty awful night out, isn't it? W-with a bit of luck it'll get better from hereon." He then perked a slight ear, turning back toward the inn. "Although I h-h-hope we don't end up walking into a bar b-brawl or something... a bit l-loud, coming from inside."

[Nefarion Xid]

Mysterious Woman

If it realizes you're there, the skeleton ignores your presence and continues feebly attempting to free itself from the mud and climb back onto the road. Ahead, some two hundred feet or so, you spy the light of a lantern.

[Tychris1]

Seeing the lantern rapidly approaching, the dame took out her rope, and quickly dropped it down onto the skeletons throat. Tugging on it she quickly attempted to pull the creature up to swap places with it.

[Othniel]

"Uh, hi," said a handsome half-elven man in his mid- to late-twenties. He appeared to be wearing a white shirt and a blue sleeveless coat. Both were somewhat bedraggled on account of the weather. With these went a matching sash, and slung over his shoulder a canvas bag and a beat up longsword. He carried a curved dagger all lit up in his hand - more of a torch than a weapon at the moment. "I ran into another one a bit back," he added, jerking his head back to indicate the way he'd come. "Yours, or...?"

[Tychris1]

"Hallo," A voice sounded directly behind the man "You're a looker aintchya?" The human woman before him was a shambles. Shoulder length ginger hair slick with rain frizzed out of control and covered her head. Her blue eyes were studious yet finnicky, black war makeup pooled beneath her eyes, and streaked down her cheek. Chainmail covered the bulk of her chest though her arms were left mostly exposed to the elements. Clenched tightly in her right hand was a stained length of hemp rope currently ensnared around an unfortunately animate cadaver and her left rested upon the brutal axe at her waist. A separate yet identical axe of equally heavy design rested on the opposite side of her hip, slung alongside an unused lantern, and a strung longbow resting on her back completed the ensemble.

"Naw. Just found it. You going thattaway?" The voice continued to echo around the man's shoulders and behind his ears as she slowly loped forward with her skeleton in tow.

[Othniel]

The man ignored the direction of the voice as he kept his eyes on the strange woman and her...pet? "Sorry, I'm taken," he replied with a slight twitch of a smile. "Followed the path the bony fellow crawled up to see if anyone needed help, but I've no mind to stay out in this lovely weather any more than I have to, so I'll be heading back the way I came. Think I saw a building on the bridge a ways back. If you'll keep your graveyard reject away from my ankles we could make our way there."

[Tychris1]

"Pshaw, Frank won't hurt nobody." The woman proceeded to drag the skeleton behind her and stepped alongside the man. Closing her eyes she flashed him a smile and gestured to the tower in the distance. "Wonder'n what these fellas were s'posed to do but s'not like it matters much now I reckon."

She extended a calloused ashen hand. "Call me Agatha."

[Othniel]

"You can call me Ard," the man responded, shaking Agatha's hand. "Though you might want to ditch Frank before meeting other folks. Someone (or Frank himself) is liable to get hurt."

[zabbarot]

Sir Bunivere

https://i.etsystatic.com/14804176/r/il/af4573/1718043133/il_fullxfull.1718043133_8e9j.jpg
Bunivere waited until the door was opened and slipped inside with a nod to acknowledge the opener. Sitting up on his haunches, he set down his things, slid his overcoat off, threw it over one arm, and shook some of the water out of his fur. He ran his paws over each ear individually to brush more water off then gathered his things, most notably an adamantine glaive sized just for him and engraved end to end in images of rabbits in gardens. He stood a bit over a foot tall on his haunches, just over a foot and a half with his ears included.

"That storm really came out of nowhere, didn't it? I cannot wait to put my feet up by the fire. How about you two chaps? You from around here?" The small black rabbit smiled up at them. "Where are my manners?! I'm Sir Bunivere of Whitby Burrows."

[Jade_Tarem]

"Well hello to you all again. I guess we didn't get a good chance to exchange pleasantries outside. I'm Tombossa, no last name." He didn't remain bedraggled for long. With a flashy snap of his fingers designed to hide his other hand running through the spell's somatic component behind his back, he lit up a cantrip and began drying himself with it, bottom to top. As he did so, it revealed showy clothes better suited to a courtesan than an adventurer. It was all loose and flowing, in eye-catching shades of crimson, white, black and gold. Decorative bracelets of ebony with golden filigree adorned his arms, his bandanna sported charms - jeweled ones, not the magical kind - and an octahedral ruby in adamantine faceting hung suspended from a stout black cord at his neck, glowing with some lurid internal light.

His clothing, though, wasn't quite as striking as the rest of him. Tanned skin that did nothing to betray either its supernatural toughness or the hardships of the road was framed by his more otherworldly features - a shock of white hair, eyes with vaguely catlike pupils, fangs that flashed when he grinned, and most tellingly, an incredible seven foot long feline tail, graduating from white fur at the base through orange, red, and black nearer the tip, gave away the otherworldly influences on his origin.

Once it was all dry, he wrapped his tail around his waist like a belt and gave a little bow, more showboat than courtesy. "Delighted to meet you. I'm here to help." With his spell still running, he began drying his companions.

[Nefarion Xid]

There was a long cloakroom at the front of the establishment. It had likely served as a guardroom and armory in the days of the Old Empire. The current owner had painted the formerly bare, white-washed kilnstone walls a more inviting hunter green. The room was lit by a sconce at the near and far end; a brass rod tipped with a thumb-sized piece of quartz cast brilliant white light. There were hooks for hats and cloaks driven into the interior wall. The murder holes on the exterior wall had long ago been filled in with plaster. Through an open archway at the far end of the room, there was more light, the voices from before, and the smell of food cooking.

There was no rug on the floor, but instead a clever bit of sigil work. Anyone who passed into the room (and over the "trap") was greeted with a pleasant gust of warm air and a magical hum as their clothes were cleaned and dried just before Tombossa could tend to his fellow travelers.

The snap of broken glass and a man's cry cut off any remarks about the cozy inn's magical amenities.

"Bloody saints!" one man exclaimed in a panicked voice. "Put the sword away, Brand. You're not gonna kill us over taxes. We're just doin' our job!"

"I might! I bloody well might! If I toss you two into the river, no one'll find your rotten corpses until you wash up in Ryefeld! An' no one will weep for you 'cept your whore cousin goin' 'ungry with 'er two best customers gone."

Crowding your way into the main room, you see two men in mail with tabbards. They have matching dark grey cloaks and both carry swords on their hips -- neither drawn. One of the two is sprawled on the floor with a broken nose and multiple cuts on his face. He twitches, alive, but completely stunned. The other holds up his hands, desperately attempting to placate another fellow. The third man wears the practical clothing of an innkeeper with an apron. He looks to be in his early forties, with a mane of loose, greying blond hair. He's terribly scarred on his right side and wears an eyepatch. He holds a black adamantine bastard sword effortlessly in one hand, pointed towards the armored man's chest. Despite knowing nothing of this innkeeper, you are absolutely sure he could shove the sword through mail and man both and only the hilt would stop him.

The two armored younger men wear the colors of Duke Veregast -- a chevron argent on a sable field. You know the duke to be a bachelor in his early thirties. Like his father before him, he refuses to take sides in anyone's claim for the kingdom. You have heard rumors that his coffers are empty, but there is no clear answer for the cause.

Ard & Agatha

You two draw nearer to the inn. Two figures meet outside, then ascend the stairs together. They either didn't notice you, or more likely, they are just eager to get in out of the rain.

You hear the dim sound of glass breaking.

[Othniel]

Ard

"Sounds like some folks are having fun," Ard suggested. He then nodded to the half-skeleton. "You gonna bring Frank inside, or tie him up out here?" Without waiting for an answer, the half-elf man started for the stairs.

Ard will enter unless stopped by Agatha or something else.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

"A p-pleasure, Sir Bunivere," replied Frederick as the merry trio entered into the cloakroom. Under normal circumstances, he might have let out a bit of snark at his companion's on-the-nose appellation, but he was far too cold to do much more than exchange the usual pleasantries. Reaching up with his hand, he was almost about to begin drying himself off when the newly-named Tombossa beat him to it. Luxuriating in the sensation of being dry, Frederick nodded gratefully - he was still fatigued, but it was an improvement.

"And to you as well, Tombossa."

Then the argument and yelling stated up again, and Frederick rushed forward with Bunivere and Tombossa. Taking in the scene, he hissed out of the corner of his mouth to his companions as his right hand crawled up towards his bow.

"Duke Veregast's men. A neutral faction. Rumor's been going around his treasury's a bit on the light side. I don't suppose either of you've got experience talking people down, have you?"

[Nefarion Xid]

Seeing he had customers, the one called Brand seemed to reevaluate his stance on manslaughter and lowered his sword. "Get out of my inn and take your git cousin-brother with you."

The duke's man hesitated, waiting until Brand took a few steps back before stooping to catch his friend by the shoulders and drag him towards the safety of the cloakroom. He glanced your way and managed an awkward, "ah, cheers," by way of a greeting.

"Don't suppose one of you folk's a cleric?" His eyes searched you over for a holy symbol.

You know the man is at 0 HP. He will regain consciousness on his own, but will probably need several days to heal naturally. He'll have several nasty scars if he doesn't get magical healing.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

Frederick shook his head regretfully.

"My apologies. My powers are of a more arcane bent."

[Tychris1]

”Ya, ah figure he ain’t gonna pay his own drinks or keep his liquor down either.” She quickly looked around the outskirts of the tavern for a place to stow her unwiling companion (or atleast the undead one) and then rushed to follow after Ard. She gracefully slid her arm alongside Ard’s side and locked arms with him at the elbow to merrily proceed into the tavern.

“So’s it pretty nice? Y’know. Bein’ married and all,” She casually conversed, brushing through her hair with long pointed fingers “I can’t right imagine it’s so if you’re here instead of with your girl... guy?” She squinted her eyes briefly in an effort to utilize her gaydar.

“Not judgin’ y’know. My barn door has a loose hinge.”

[Othniel]

Ard

The man barked a quick laugh in reply. "My wife is...visiting family at the moment," Ard answered after a brief hesitation. There was a brief gleam of amusement in his eye, or perhaps it was merely a reflection from his light spell. "It was sort of an arranged marriage, but you might say our hearts are growing toward each other. I certainly have no regrets, and the honeymoon was out of this world."

[Jade_Tarem]

Tombossa

"No worries, my good sir! I'm no holy man either," In fact, holy men tended to attack Tombossa on sight, but he didn't mention that, "but there's more than one way to mend a body. Now, this spell has a curious side effect, and he may be irritable, grumpy, and/or unspeakably evil for a minute or two after the casting, but it will pass quickly." With that, and without waiting for an objection, Tombossa twisted his hand into a series of intricate arcane gestures and said something in the ancient language of his ancestors. He needed no special components for most spells, which was good, because the church frowned on purchases of devil blood. With one hand behind his back and a good-natured smirk, he added an unnecessary flourish at the end, and a moment later the man's injuries began to mend themselves before everyone's eyes, nose popping back into place and cuts sealing.

Casting Infernal Healing

[zabbarot]

Sir Bunivere's ears perked up a bit as Tombossa listed the 'side effects' of his spell, and his nose twitched at the casting. He could almost smell evil in the magic. "Oy! What was that?" His rabbit brow furrowed, hardly an intimidating gesture but he did his best. "I'll drop it because you're helping that fellow, but that hardly seems proper good healing..." He made a mental note to keep a close eye on Tombossa. So far he had seemed friendly, but you couldn't be too careful. Bunivere hopped over to the inkeep and climbed into a chair to get a better look at him.

"You, Innkeep, why are you fighting with tax collectors?"

[Nefarion Xid]

Revived by the sorcerer's touch, the man's bloodshot eyes snapped open. He would have scrambled to his feet and attempted to make good on his muttered threat to 'run the manky bastard through' if not for his friend holding him down with a knee on his chest. As his wounds knit closed, a green sliver of glass squirted from his skull and jingled to the floor.

The first guardsman seemed alarmed by the effects of the spell, but still thanked Tombossa profusely for the aid as he dragged his friend through the cloakroom. Brand the innkeeper snarled until he heard the sound of the front door.

"I don't live on the duke's land," Brand said, assessing the group of misfits. His accent turned less folksy when he wasn't angry enough to turn a man's chest into a scabbard. "Just because the townsfolk on the south side of the river swore their fealty doesn't mean he owns the bloody bridge. Ah've... I've lived here four years and no one's ever demanded coin from me 'cept a trio o' bandits. They went in the river."

Brand swung his sword to indicate the rusted mail shirts that had been nailed to one wall. There were three of them, and each had a clean split in the rings -- a killing blow from an adamantine weapon. Beneath the display was a board with carefully painted red lettering that read, "SALE: ALL BANDITS 1/2 OFF".

Ard & Agatha

A pair of men in cloaks and armor emerge from the inn. One leans heavily on the other's shoulder. They ignore you and hurry across the bridge going north, the direction opposite of your approach.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

Frederick blinked, not having any wish to provoke the innkeeper again, before raising a paw to his muzzle and clearing his throat.

"Right. In any case, now that that's out of the way, how much would it be for food and lodging for the night, my good fellow?"

[Othniel]

Ard

"A fine question indeed!" The new voice came from the entry where a now-dry half-elven man stood gazing at the scene about him. "Good evening to you all!" The speaker wore a loose linen outfit consisting of a white shirt and pants with a blue sleeveless coat embroidered with gold thread, and a blue-and-white checked scarf, an ensemble that looked more appropriate for warmer, dryer climes. He had in his hand a curved dagger that gave off light like a torch. "I suppose I shan't need this out any longer," he added, sheathing the blade. "But I should like supper, a mug of ale or similar, and a room. My name is Ard and my coin is good, I assure you."

[Jade_Tarem]

Revived by the sorcerer's touch, the man's bloodshot eyes snapped open. He would have scrambled to his feet and attempted to make good on his muttered threat to 'run the manky bastard through' if not for his friend holding him down with a knee on his chest. As his wounds knit closed, a green sliver of glass squirted from his skull and jingled to the floor.

The first guardsman seemed alarmed by the effects of the spell, but still thanked Tombossa profusely for the aid as he dragged his friend through the cloakroom. Brand the innkeeper snarled until he heard the sound of the front door.

"I don't live on the duke's land," Brand said, assessing the group of misfits. His accent turned less folksy when he wasn't angry enough to turn a man's chest into a scabbard. "Just because the townsfolk on the south side of the river swore their fealty doesn't mean he owns the bloody bridge. Ah've... I've lived here four years and no one's ever demanded coin from me 'cept a trio o' bandits. They went in the river."

Brand swung his sword to indicate the rusted mail shirts that had been nailed to one wall. There were three of them, and each had a clean split in the rings -- a killing blow from an adamantine weapon. Beneath the display was a board with carefully painted red lettering that read, "SALE: ALL BANDITS 1/2 OFF".

Tombossa followed the gesture and, without missing a beat, affixed a smirk to his face and an all-too-natural mocking lilt to his voice. "Hm~mm. It was nice of you to give them their cut, regardless."

He regarded the new arrivals when they came in, eyes still glittering, but knowing about the floor 'trap,' he made no redundant effort to aid them in drying off. "Yes, I guess I'd also like to inquire about services. Do you have a menu or is this just the kind of place where we settle the cost at the end? Either works for me, naturally."

[Tychris1]

Bumping into the men with cloaks and armor, Agatha turns her head to the more upright of the two, and hisses "Whatchyer step, mate." before turning back to quickly chase after Ard. Stopping upon the prestidigitation trap, Agatha gasped in glee, and cartwheeled out into the rain once more. "Hoohooheee! That's the way t'be! Haha!" She shimmied back and forth between the sensations of cold rain and suddenly drying air, giggling gleefully, and finally curling her way into the locale proper.

Twirling through the air was a now much finer and cleaner dame. One whose puffy orange hair whipped about like a lion's mane, framing a sharply curved face of light olive skin, and dark pools of soil colored eyes. Though she dressed predominately in a drably painted mithral chainmail from shoulder to leg it was accessorized partially with charms, talismans, and strange trophy markings. Heavy leather boots with slight modifications for trekking through the mud gripped her feet that tumbled through the air. The short yet stocky human woman worked her way through the room in a quick leap and twirl to the board. Jostling a heavy backpack she dropped it casually near the split mail and reached a hand out experimentally to feel the cut.

"Mighty fine digs! Ya handiwork? She turned back to Brand inquisitively, her face plastered with a genuinely delighted and glowing grin.

[Nefarion Xid]

Brand shouldered his sword and gave the strangers a long appraising look, then shrugged, miserly with his thoughts.

"One vin will get you a bedroll and blanket in the common room, a bowl of whatever I've got cookin' in the pot, an' one house beer. Beds in the old barracks are two vin, I'll make sure there's not just potatoes in your bowl, and you can have a second beer to wash it down. Five vin a night gets you one of the private rooms, stabling and two meals a day. Ten vin gets you all of that, plus I call you 'sir' without rollin' my eyes." He ticked off the prices on his fingers as he spoke, though only got as high as nine due to the missing little finger on his sword hand. Charitably, it was nine and a half.

"Stabling and feed is one vin per animal. An' there's no ****ing druidic companions in the bar area." He waved his sword to indicate that everything was the 'bar area'.

"My wines start at four for the bottle, an' I don't sell as many as I'd like, so if you buy one I won't even ask about the wee bunny."

To answer Agatha's question, he strode over to the hanging hauberks and poked one in the sleeve with an anemic thrust of his sword. The rings sheered open and an egg-sized piece of plaster crumbled away from the wall. He shrugged again at the results of the display and walked back to the bar where he returned the adamantine sword to its scabbard and began setting out clay tankards.

Hard to say, but you'd guess the scars on Brand's face were caused by claws -- probably a Huge animal, given how far apart they are.

[Othniel]

Ard

"I've no mount to stable," Ard said, "But I'd love a room to myself with a bottle of wine and two meals (and drinks) a day." The half-elf quickly produced a small handful of coins and offered the innkeeper a pleasant smile along with the money. "That should run me eight, yes?"

"I'd kind of like to know about the bunny though," he added, turning to look at the furry creature. "But more than that...can anyone tell me what country or land I am in and whether there are any particularly, ah, notable laws I should avoid breaking by accident? Oh, and where I can buy some weather-suitable clothing? I'm Ard, by the way. And I am terribly, terribly lost."

Diplomacy to make the innkeeper like me better/give me a deal: [roll0]

[Nefarion Xid]

Brand set his sword behind the bar top with an unnecessarily loud tap, but he snapped up Ard's eight silver coins without quibbling over the complimentary stabling.

"Yer at Laire's Cross, lad. Gods know how ye got here wi'out knowing where yer goin'. This is the river Iscan. North is Veregast's land, Duchy o' Duncaster. More north is the Carinth Mountains. Road on the south side of the river will take you to the Federation in the east. South his ****. West is worst ****. Veregast's men have taken over the town, so if you go that way, don't make fun of is nose. Or do, I ain't yer ma."

Brand plunked down a bottle of white wine and slid over a tall clay mug.

"And I can scrounge up a spare fur cloak for ya in a minute. How about the rest of you?"

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

"Laire's Cross? Well, no wonder I hurt all over after a journey like that..."

Frederick said this more to himself than anyone else as he pulled out his purse and looked quickly through what cash he had on hand. Making a decision, he looked back up to Brand.

"Frederick's my name, on the off chance anyone was curious. No wine for me, not at the moment at least, but I will also take a private room, please and thank you." He laid down five vings and pushed them in Brand's direction. "I don't have an animal companion, but I do have a familiar - that won't be an issue, will it?"

Right on cue, a tiny jerboa poked its head from beneath Frederick's collar, where it had been sheltering from the cold and wet.

[Othniel]

Ard

The strange names made Ard's poor head spin, but he nodded as if he understood. "East or north sounds better then, I suppose," he said quietly. "A spare cloak sounds wonderful; thank you," he said more loudly. Then he waited to learn more of the other strange folk gathered about.

[Tychris1]

"Tourists. Tchya, She said dismissively before focusing her gaze on Brand "How much to share the oldest and warmest bed in here?" The woman said with a coy grin on her face, her eyebrows arching inquisitively, and her hair ruffled briefly by her lounging forward lean upon the bar.


[roll0]

[zabbarot]

After a minute just observing everyone the black rabbit decided everything seemed nice enough. "I am Sir Bunivere of Whitby Burrows. I'll take that bottle of wine, but do you have any alfalfa or fresh grains? I guess hay will do if it's all you've got. Stew isn't so good on my stomach." He stood up on the stool and leaned against the bar in a particularly human way.

"Has there been any interesting news out this way? I'm on the trail of a particularly devious sort. A fox laid siege to our burrow less than a week ago and ate two of my clansmen."

[Othniel]

Ard

"That does sound rather dreadful," Ard agreed. "You have my condolences. I hope you run the blackguard down and exact justice."

[zabbarot]

"I intend to, goodman." The bunny nodded stoicly.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

Frederick shuddered at the notion of the foxman's cannibalism, and looked to Sir Bunivere with a sympathetic look of his own.

"That's absolutely awful. You have my condolences as well." He tilted his head slightly in thought, then spoke up again. "I don't suppose you're looking for a bit of assistance with that, are you? I've found myself lacking for companionship and employment as of late. I'm not much of a frontline fighter, but I can do wonders with a bow and spells."

[Othniel]

Ard

"Well, if you want some target practice, I did see a skeleton outside. Well, half of one anyway," Ard said, shying away from eye contact with Agatha. "I didn't want to assume things, but I don't suppose they're common around here, yeah? Live, I mean. Well, unliving, I suppose."

[Nefarion Xid]

"Tourists. Tchya, She said dismissively before focusing her gaze on Brand "How much to share the oldest and warmest bed in here?"

Brand sniffed, seemingly unfazed by the brazenness. "Ah. I don't known about that lass. I rent the old captain's quarters to a young wizard. Now, he's got a magic stone in his room that keeps it nice'n toasty in the winter. But I don't think he'd appreciate me subletting his bed. You keep tryin' though; lad could do with a tussle."

Once everyone had ordered and paid, the innkeeper vanished into the kitchen to return with food and drinks. The house ale was a crisp wheat that left a bitter but clean citrus finish on the tongue. It was too good to be served this far from civilization, though perfectly adequate considering the price of your accommodations. The stew was chicken, barley, corn, carrots and green beans -- bland, but salty enough to replenish your vital minerals. The rabbit was served a small crudités platter with a raw cucumber, carrot, and radish along with a handful of green beans. Brand looked skeptically at the creature, hoping he approved.

"I didn't want to assume things, but I don't suppose they're common around here, yeah? Live, I mean. Well, unliving, I suppose."

Brand spoke again. "Common? No, but not unusual. The Old Empire watered these lands with blood for a hundred years. When they'd finally driven the barbarians out, they tore down their idols and planted rye on their barrows. Course, didn't take long after the legions pulled out for the hill folk to come back and raze the Empire's temples. So, we're right sick with angry bones and there ain't no saints to keep 'em quiet."

He poured himself a finger of whisky and nursed it in silence for a moment.

"They're no trouble, usually. Just mill around unless something crosses their path. What was this one doing?"

[Othniel]

Ard

"It was missing its bottom half and crawling along a riverside path toward the bridge," Ard answered. "I wondered if anyone had fought it off or something and followed the path a ways to see. Found the lass there," he added, indicating Agatha. "We came back here after that."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Federick

Frederick sniffed at the stew and ale as Brand brought them out. Perhaps not the finest food to ever cross a plate, but certainly far more palatable than the rations he'd had to eat for the past couple of days.

"Thank you kindly."

Digging into the stew with gusto, he paused in between bites to listen to Ard discuss the skeletons with Brand.

[zabbarot]

Bunivere nodded approval at the innkeeper and took a bite of cucumber. It had been a while since he'd had one. He'd forgotten how much he liked them. They were almost a melon.

"Thank you for accommodating my tastes. If I could get one more favor, though? Could you pour me a bit of wine in a saucer? Cups are a little ungainly."

[Nefarion Xid]

"Wae, how can ye hald a glaive but nae a cup?" Brand's accent was stronger than ever as he gawked. He shook his head by way of apology and poured the rabbit an ounce of Ard's wine into a shallow dish.

"When you say toward the bridge, do you mean headin' east or north or west?" He positioned toothpicks on the bar to show the bridge crossing the gouge in the wood meant to represent the river. Then he added toothpicks to show the three roads south of the bridge and the two north.

After the clarification, Ard could confirm the skeleton had been crawling east.

"Aye, that's towards the town." He swallowed. "Listen, it's probably a lone restless dead man, but would any of you folk mind having a look? It's maybe a third of a mile. Probably nothing, but I'd appreciate it if someone would check on them tonight. I poke fun 'bout them being inbred and all, but... I mean, I care."

[Othniel]

Ard

Having finished his stew and drink, Ard was tasting the wine. He'd had better, but he was hardly in a position to complain. He blinked at the innkeeper. "You want someone to go back out in that nonsensical weather? There's so much..." he lifted his hands and gestured helplessly, "...wet. And you want us to trot down the road in the dark to check on some strangers?" He looked regretfully at the bottle of wine. A full - nearly full now that the rabbit had had a share of his wine that he had paid for, thank you very much - bottle of wine and a cozy room with a fireplace had sounded awfully nice.

Ard shrugged and pointed at Bunivere. "C'mon, Ears, let's go make sure there are no more skellymens to haunt the road."

"I'll need that cloak before I step outside again, if you don't mind," the half-elf told the innkeeper. "And save that bottle for me. I plan to drink myself to sleep tonight and not rise with the dawn."

[Nefarion Xid]

"Aye lad, that's fair. I'll trade you an oilskin coat for the trouble. Let me fetch it." Brand hustled down the steps at the end of the room and returned two minutes later with a dingy brown coat with a hood. It was large enough to be worn over armor and was lined with wool felt. The outer layer was probably sailcloth and had been painted with lacquer and brushed with linseed oil dozens of times over the years. It was effectively waterproof and quite warm.

The Oilskin Coat counts as a Cold Weather outfit and grants you a +5 Competence bonus on Survival checks to avoid the enervating effects of constant rain or sea spray.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

Frederick finished swallowing his ale, then spoke.

"I don't suppose you have any more of those cloaks, do you? I'm still getting over the chill, but I agree; better safe than sorry to check it out. I'll gladly lend my bow."

[Tychris1]

"Your loss." She said matter of factly as Brand rejected her advance. Sipping and working through her stew after rapidly quaffing her beer, the woman with tears of ink snickered at Ard's explanation of events, and lightly shook her head before dragging herself off. "Ah phooey, s'gonna take more thenna coat for me to go out there. I reckon they'll be fine t'morrow morning when it's less wet." She said dismissively, her right hand scrunching through her thick matted hair, and her left hand held out to her rope that had hung itself in an unnoticeable into a noose dangling from the sturdy rafters overhead. It coiled around her arm and then neatly bundled itself at her hip just as she moved to find this ostensibly wealthy wizard and his living quarters.

[Nefarion Xid]

"Ye can't go upstairs unless ye've..." Brand was probably going to say 'unless you've paid for a room', but realize the situation would resolve itself once the wizard's symbol of sleep trap went off.

"Ah've had this feeling ever since the rain started. Ah'm no a paranoid or superstitious man, but ma scar's been stinging for hours. Ah'd rest easy tonight if Ah know the townsfolk are safe. If you'd all just go have a look, Ah could give you a bit of coin and wine?" There was a pleading tone in the man's voice. He was clearly upset and grew increasingly manic as he spoke. "Ah know Ah sound daft, but Ah haven't felt this way since..."

Further bargaining was cut off by a sound that wasn't thunder. Something impacted the southern wall from the outside with the force of a tree flung at hurricane speed. Bottles and wine goblets overturned as the whole room shook once. A cacophony of scraping against the shingles and stone followed. The timber rafters creaked and plaster shattered around the joists. A second passed in stunned silence, but before anyone dared to voice an opinion on what was outside, a skeletal claw exploded through the window and began ripping away chunks of the wall.

You have all won initiative. The skeletal creature has used its surprise round to attack the wall. You judge it to be at least Huge in size, and guess it may need 2 more rounds to tear open a hole large enough to squeeze through. It has Cover against your attacks.

[Jade_Tarem]

Tombossa, in the process of considering whether he wanted to take the man up on his offer of investigating the town, stared with an intense look of consternation at the new hole in the wall, then waved his hand and vanished. "Nope."

Invisibility

[Tychris1]

The woad woman didn't turn around at the scarred man's protestation, nor at the sound of something unnaturally heavy hitting the wall, and it was only the sound of glass shattering that stirred her from her indignant ascent. Peering over her shoulder, she witnessed a hand of unholy size clawing about, and then instantly saw the slab of meat she considered pouncing on vanish into thin air. Whipping her head back forward she continued to run up the stairs.

"HEY! WIZAHD. MR MAGIC PANTS MAN THERE'S A F!*#ING HUGE SKELETON DOWN HERE THOUGHT Y"MIGHT WANNA, Y'KNOW, DO SUMTIN."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

Frederick blinked for a moment in horror as the massive clawed hand burst the wall.

"Well, okay. Apparently we're doing this."

Drawing his bow and nocking an arrow to the string, he infused his magic into them before unleashing it at the claw.

Apologies in advance if I screw anything up: It's my first time dealing with a magus.

Move action to draw Rhirruin, the Flame in Winter, which has its damage set to Frost.

A swift action is expended to change it to Flaming.

Then, Frederick unleashes an attack, using Spellstrike to cast Acid Arrow along with the ranged attack he makes. As he is Level 6, the acid damage will last another three rounds beyond the initial strike.

Attack: [roll0]. This includes -1 from Fatigued, +1 from Point-Blank Shot.
Damage: [roll1] plus [roll2] Fire Damage. This includes -1 from Fatigued, +1 from Point-Blank Shot.
Acid Arrow: [roll3]
Unfortunately, the arrow went wide and impacted the wall.

[Othniel]

Ard

"You ought to take up betting, mate!" Ard called to the innkeeper. "You have got a knack for knowing when something is about to happen!" Reaching within his being to grab hold of the power coursing through his veins, Ard's eyes momentarily turned white as he called forth a creature some might recognize as a cheetah, interposing the creature between himself and the skeletal thing clawing its way into the building.

Summoning a Cheetah! (https://www.d20pfsrd.com/bestiary/monster-listings/animals/felines/cat-great/cheetah/summoned-creature-cheetah/)

[zabbarot]

Bunivere calmly sipped his wine, hardly even seeming to have noticed the slamming against the wall. When the windo broke he brushed his face with one paw to knock away small drips of wine and hopped off the bar stool with glaive in hand.

"I'll be back in a minute. I need to teach this beast proper etiquette." He hopped to the door surprisingly quickly and disappeared outside.

As he rounded the corner and saw the dragon he made a quick assessment, and walked back inside.

"Well... unless one of you can give me wings I'll have to wait for it to come inside."

[Nefarion Xid]

"You've got a real sick sense of humor, Terin!" Brand didn't elucidate on who Terin was or what his connection might be to the creature. Instead he took up his adamantine sword and dashed to the far wall. Lashing wildly, he missed the grasping claw and pulverized a chunk of mortar. The claw responded by raking lazily in his direction, but succeeded only in overturning a table and chairs as Brand leapt back.

The second claw crashed in through the window on the right side of the room. It gripped the wall for support while above the thing's teeth chewed away part of the roof. Catching a glimpse of its head, the travelers could now guess the bones had belonged to a dragon.

The mindless creature thankfully lacks the capacity to focus on one entry of method for too long. However, you now guess that after the next round, there is a 50% chance of the it opening a hole in the wall big enough to get his head through, or a 50% chance the roof will begin to collapse.

Upstairs

Running door to door to rouse the resident wizard, Agatha found the third door flung open just as she came to it. Within the chamber there was a hissing black cat on a small bedside table. On the bed stood what you'd expect to see if someone described a 'young wizard' -- a man around his twentieth year with a clean shaven round face and spectacles. He wore an open blue robe and a floppy tweed hat. He was pointing what was probably the business end of a staff at the doorway, the end holding a ruby in the claw-like grasp of the gnarled wood.

"Who are you? What the **** is going on?"

[Othniel]

Ard

"Ah...well, this is a new situation to me, and I've seen some pretty weird stuff!" Ard called out as his summoned cheetah kept up its attack. The summoner himself conjured an invisible shield in front of himself and eyed the creature through the window.

Ard casts Shield on self.

Cheetah attacks:
Bite: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Confirm? [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Claw 1: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]
Confirm? [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

Claw 2: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]
Confirm? [roll10]
Damage: [roll11]

[Lord Of Mantas]

Frederick

"You know this thing?!"

Frederick cried out in alarm as the creature continued to utterly wreck the room. Expending his internal energy, he recalled the spell he had just cast, channeling it once again into his arrow before unleashing it at the skeletal behemoth.

Swift action to use Spell Recall to reuse Acid Arrow. 5/7 Arcane Pool Points remaining.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] plus [roll2] Fire
Acid Arrow: [roll3], plus more damage over an additional 3 rounds.

Sadly, as per the OOC, the critical is not confirmed.
This time, his fire-and-acid-wreathed arrow flew true, sailing through the hole and pegging the creature squarely in the skull.

[Tychris1]

"M'name's Amy but that ain't important right now you big dumb sweaty pretty egghead. There's a giant f***-all skeleton downstairs ruining everything and if'n you don't help do somethin' bout it I'll come back from the dead and bite your **** off in the not fun way and skin yer stupid cat. Got it? Now go 'n point dat stick somewhere useful instead. Ya... ya f***ing spaz. Jeez, I thought wizards were s'posed to be cool and smart'n'stuff."



Intimidate!:[roll0]