The Mysteries of Q'barra [5e Eberron] [IC]

[WhismurWanders]

Q'barra. The unexplored corner of Khorvaire. A dank mess of swamp and jungle, teeming with dangerous wildlife and savage scaled natives. This wasn't a place for anyone who couldn't handle their own, or afford the kind of help which could handle your own. Not many will act like they care to hear your story; who you are and how you got here. They've heard so many variations that it all seems to blur together. Prospectors hearing the legends of buried treasure in the End, world Mountains, sailors who call the docks of Adderport and Newthrone their home, criminals hoping to evade lawmen from other nations, Dragonmarked individuals looking to do their house proud and make a true name for themselves, natives who found themselves drawn to the advantages of 'civilized life' and something beyond the nomadic wanderings of their ancestors, clerics and paladins of any of the major faiths looking for converts and hoping to impose order on the occasionally lawless land ... the list stretches on and on. Stories like those were a dime a dozen out here, and yet they were also the lifeblood of the region.

Most recently, however, things have been shaken up. An enterprising businessman, a halfling by the name of Ostran Coppernail has sent out a letter of notice to all the civilized holdings, seeking anyone willing to brave the Q'barran Jungle and its hardships. Though he hasn't given the exact reason for his expedition, rumors of a lost temple and a treasure of unquestionable value have emerged wherever the recruitment posters have been set up. For whatever reason, you have made your way to Newthrone, the capital of civilized Q'barra, to meet with Ostran in hopes to be taken on his expedition. Ostran has enough wealth and personal connections to have rented out a tavern for the night in hopes of accomodating as much talent as his seemingly endless wealth can afford, but everyone with a sound head on their shoulders knows that the jungle is no place for a large group. The expedition will likely be small, whatever it's purpose, but if there's one truth to Khorvaire and its last hidden treasures; fortune only favors the bold.


It's a pleasant evening in Newthrone. Or rather, it's as pleasant as an evening in Newthrone can feel. Despite the town's opulent name, in truth it happens to be the capital of what many refer to as 'civilized' Q'barra by being the largest settlement, as well as one of few with proper stone walls. A far cry from the spires of Sharn, or the open spaces of the Talenta Plains on the other side of the World's End Mountains. A slight breeze occasionally kicks up dust from the street, and while the air itself is dry, it's just hot enough to feel uncomfortable, despite the sun already dipping half-way under the horizon line. The streets of Newthrone have lost the simple bustle of people moving with purpose that it usually has during the day; now people are simply ambling to where they want to be at this hour. Many taverns and entertainments are filled with sounds of laughter and merriment. No doubt plenty are celebrating their newfound success in the jungle or in the mines, or simply enjoying the end of another hot day where the beasts of the jungles beyond the fortified walls haven't managed to kill everyone just yet, though the sounds of exotic birds occasionally punctuated by a terrifying roar remind the citizens that those threats are still out there.

Each of you, for your own purposes, have found yourselves standing in front of the double-swing doors of a tavern called The Tired Anteater, the place where Ostran has called for his meeting. A large banner hanging just below the establishment's own signage declares the Anteater closed to the general public for the evening, and a pair of tough-looking mercernaries (a half-orc and a dwarf) flanking each side of the entrance offer the means to turn away any still-determined drinkers. They only watch quietly as you push through the doors to gain entrance, and the half-orc growls, "Mind your manners in there" as you move past him. The sounds of several groups enjoying the tavern's food and drinks already become clearer, and a veritable throng of prospective adventurers are sprawled around the tables and booths. On a round, elevated stage in the center of the room sits a trio of musicians providing the entertainment for the occasion. A Warforged sits at a piano, plinking away at the keys with a clear mastery of his art as he accompanies a pair of gnomish women. While both are singing, one of them has a lute in her lap which she is strumming, and the other sits atop a curious wooden box with a few metallic accents from which she provides the song's rhythm by rapping her palms and knuckles in various places on the box. The song itself (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imhE7z8oLd8) is bright and cheery, likely an attempt to encourage coins to slip away from their owners and towards eating and drinking. Various humanoids in attire befitting the serving staff weave between the various people carrying platters of simple food and curious-looking drinks. Most of the visitors are either conversing between sips of their drinks and bites of food, watching the performers on the stage, playing cards with their table neighbors, or trying to get the attention of one of the waiters or waitresses.

Most of the available seats have been taken; the main room has six tables spread around the stage, and three booths fill up two opposite walls, but there are a handful of stools at the bar and two booths on the far side of the room which haven't been occupied yet. There's no sign of Ostran anywhere, at least as far as a quick scan over the room will allow, and a few murmurs can be heard of people getting a bit antsy to hear about what the proposition of his might actually be. Whatever the reason for this potential delay, it would be wise to find a place to sit first. There's no telling how long the evening will last, and standing for its entirety would be uncomfortable for all but perhaps the most practiced of soldiers.

[czieg]

'The air here is so dry, even though we are close to the jungles, curious.' Tuulo thinks to himself as he walks down the streets of Newthrone. The tortle takes in a deep breath and breathes it out slowly. The way the air drags it's way into his lungs and seems to leave him more dried out as it leaves feels strange when compared to the constant smell of the sea of his home. 'Now, what did that notice say?' He pulls out a small notebook from his pack and flips through it until he finds the note he made about Ostran's call for explorers. Finding the name of the tavern, he stows it before beginning his walk again.

When he finds the Tired Anteater, he gives a warm smile and a nod to the half-orc and dwarf at the door as he passes them. "I will, thank you." Those watching the entrance as Tuulo enters the tavern see a tortle in fairly simple travler's clothes. Loose brown pants that end his knees and a worn off-white robe that is tied to him by his neck and around his waist, colored by the wear and tear of travel. Around his neck is a wooden carved symbol of Boldrei, shown as a hearth with flame lit. It's not extremely detailed, but the representation is there. Slung across his massive shell is a pack with the various accouterments of travel.

Tuulo looks around the room and decides to take one of the stools at the bar as chairs can be difficult for his shell'd self, leaning his staff on the bar next to him. His eyes, green like the color of seaweed, wander the room. He's not looking at anything in particular and rather just absorbing the conversation of the Tired Anteater, trying to get a general feel for those who, like him, who have answered Ostran's call.

[bc56]

Vash hurries through the city streets, her fiery hair streaming behind her. She's wearing a simple, lightweight white dress designed for the hot weather, a leather belt, to which her sword is buckled, leather sandals, and a silver teardrop earring on her right ear. As she nears the Tired Anteater, she slows to a walking pace, entering with a sidelong glance at the bouncer telling her to mind her manners. She slips quietly over to the bar and sits down on one of the stools, leaning over to her nearest neighbor. "When do we hear what the big proposal is?"

[astragalos]

Shahaar feels a sense of relief as the sun begins to set, heralding the half of the day most sacred to the Dark Six and most advantageous to those with darkvision. The imminent onset of night hasn't brought any relief from the heat yet, but perhaps it will later on, she hopes. Droaam and Sharn can both be oppressively hot as well, but the climate in Q'barra is still a mystery to the recently-arrived goblin. She smiles at the occasional roar emanating from the jungle, a reminder of the Devourer's ever-present power.

Let's see what the Traveler has in store tonight, she thinks as she approaches The Tired Anteater. She deliberately makes eye contact with both the dwarf and the half-orc at the door, showing acknowledgment but not deference. The goblin wears a fashionable armor consisting of a purple dress layered with leather and scale mail and and decorated with arcane sigils. She has several studs in her nose and rings in her pointed ears, and the Hexagram of the Dark Six openly hangs at her neck. She wears a mace at her belt, and a black shield and crossbow are strapped to her backpack. The appearance of strength is a form of strength. And this Coppernail halfling is recruiting adventurers. Well, here's a Droaamite mercenary, no need for Tharashk as a middleman.

She finds a stool at the halfling-and-goblin-sized section of the bar, which happens to be near a humanoid tortoise wearing the symbol of Boldrei and a red-haired Khoravar. She signals one of the tavern staff for a platter of meat and one of the strange Q'barran drinks, and mutters a quick grace in Goblin before she begins her meal, "Devourer and Fury, I sate my hunger and thirst in Your names." She ravenously tears into the meat, which probably comes from some strange jungle creatures and reminds her of the troll sausages of Droaam, and drinks the alcohol with equally ferocious enthusiasm. When the half-elf turns to her with a question, she swallows the mouthful of food that she was chewing, wipes her mouth on a napkin, and replies, "When Coppernail gets here, I suppose. He who has coin and a plan has power, and those with power like to show it by making others wait. Both for them and on them." She accompanies her play on words in Common with a gesture at the serving staff.

[Inspector Valin]

Patience, Sigrid, patience.

The Kundarak heiress takes a second to compose herself in front of the swing-door, straightening her braids and patting down her coat one final time. You never get a second chance at a first impression, so it's said, and she can tell even from out here that the Anteater is packed tonight. She can even smell the wafting scent of beer and roasted meat. With a frown, Sigrid withdraws a spritzer from her coat pocket, spraying a small amount of vapor about herself. It won't be enough to drive the musk of a tavern away, but it's better than nothing.

Short as she may be, Sigrid stands out somewhat amongst the tavern's rowdier patrons. Not every traveller to Q'barra comes by with a black silk coat, trimmed with gold and decorated with fine embroidery, worn atop a ruffled shirt. Were it not for her pack, you'd assume the dwarf was not meant to be here at all. The stranger flinches as she enters the room, clearly unused to the noise of so many boisterous folk, talking all at once above a jaunty tune. Sig glances around, looking for some form of sanctuary from the chaos set out before her. The booths in the back are perhaps the closest she's likely to get. With a sigh of relief, Sig falls into one of the seats, leaning forward just long enough to withdraw her pack, and shift it to the floor beneath her feet. When she alights, however, it is with a journal bound in black leather that she proceeds to begin studying intently, seemingly blind to the rest of the room.

Perfect chance to practice concentration. What could be more distracting than all this?

[esorscher]

While others may find the city of Newthrone comforting and secure, for Akshav it has the opposite effect. To her the streets and buildings are imposing and alienating, and the dry quality of the heat that some may extol seems to suck the life from her exposed skin, more accustomed to the humidity among the swamps she has called home for so long. Still, it is here that the universe has ordained for her to be at this moment, and this auspicious tavern, the Tired Anteater, which has been chosen as the setting for events to come. She adjusts her leather vest, and the pack on her back, and walks into the tavern.

Anxious among the crowd, she searches for a familiar looking face, and, finding none, her eyes rest on the goblin at the bar. At least neither of them are softskins like so many of those gathered here, and this one's appearance is as exotic as they come. With the seats near the goblin occupied by what looks like an overgrown turtle on one side and a red-haired human on the other, Akshav sits nearby, leaving an empty space between them but listening to the conversation between the redhead and this goblin as it transpires. When the bartender approaches, she orders a flagon of the bitter fermented milk that her people enjoy, and a plate of fried fish bits, both of which she consumes dispassionately as she observes the crowd, and how these representatives from so many different races interact.

[astragalos]

Shahaar glances up briefly as a conspicuously well-dressed dwarf enters the tavern and takes a seat at one of the booths, then returns to demolishing her meal and draining her mug. When a lizardfolk sits down at a nearby stool at the bar, however, she turns to both the lizard and the tortoise and asks with genuine curiosity in her voice, "Are you two from around here?" Not knowing the local context well, Shahaar assumes that the bipedal tortoise is an indigenous Q'barran just like the bipedal lizard. She notices that some of the humans and other settlers in the tavern are looking at the "scales" with suspicion. But she grew up in Droaam around kobolds, medusas, and even stranger beings, so the presence of the reptilian humanoids doesn't bother her in the least. On the contrary, she'd actually been hoping to meet some of the Q'barra natives, but just hadn't had the opportunity yet.

[esorscher]

Akshav takes a drink from her mug. "I am. Akshav," she says, putting a hand on her chest. "Not from here, here," she says, pointing at the ground, "But from here," she says, waving her hand in the air. "Not from the city. You?"

[WhismurWanders]

The halfling behind the bar takes the food and drink orders with little more than a curt nod and the whisking away of empty glasses to be replaced with full ones. While Shahaar's requests come relatively quickly, Akshav's food comes much quicker than her drink, which the halfling finally hands over with a slightly apologetic look. The taste of the fermented milk-drink isn't quite as good as Akshav might remember, but it's close enough to be a passable attempt at serving it. It would seem civilized culture hasn't quite gotten the hang of the recipe, or simply isn't used to serving the drink favored by lizardfolk. Whatever the intention, the bartender serves both drinks cold, almost too cold given the weather outside. The rims of the glasses are decorated with frost which quickly beads into cool water in the room and keep the drinks enjoyably cold. Shahaar's drink, given she ordered a local specialty, is incredibly sugary and sweet while accompanied by the tangy taste of citrus fruit. The sting of alcohol is barely noticeable, but will still apply it's mind-altering effect nonetheless if not handled responsibly.

On the other side of the room, where Sigrid has taken her seat, a rotund halfling woman comes to timidly ask if she wants anything to eat or drink, not wanting to disturb someone who has put a book between herself and the rest of the world, despite this being her job.

[czieg]

Tuulo was content to let the red-haired woman and the goblin converse, quietly listening in as he sat, getting only water to drink. When the goblin addressed him and the lizardfolk that had since walked in, he is mid-sip and shakes his head as he swallows.

"Oh no, my home is farther north, along the coast." Setting down the drink, he turns to face the lizardfolk and goblin fully. "I am Tuulo." The tortle extends one clawed hand towards Akshav to shake, then to the goblin, and those paying attention can see his arms are thick with muscle.

"I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here in Newthrone. I was under the impression your people kept to the jungle. What brings you to join a treasure-hunting expedition like this one?" The question is mainly intended for Akshav, but the way his eyes flick to the goblin and the red-haired woman invites them to answer as well.

[esorscher]

How much to reveal to these strangers? Akshav thinks, then answers, "You mean, beyond the obvious reward of treasure?" She smirks. "It is true, that we lizardfolk have historically kept to ourselves. But as the outsiders continue to encroach upon our lands, it is important that we understand as much of their ways as possible. For that reason, beyond my own curiosity, I have come to see what I can learn." She looks at Tuulo. "And you?"

[astragalos]

Shahaar grimaces at the excessive sugariness of her drink. How like these Kneelers, to sugar-coat the bitter fire of alcohol. But she enjoys its coolness and finishes her glass before ordering something a little less saccharine.

"I'm Shahaar, from Droaam," she says to Akshav and Tuulo. Since the red-haired half-elf is still sitting between her and Tuulo and Shahaar is rather short, she stands up from her halfling-sized stool in order to accept Tuulo's clawshake. She sits back down and nods in understanding at Akshav's motivations. "I'm here for similar reasons, though I'm far from home. So what do you think of the humans so far, now that you've seen them up close?" Mindful of being surrounded by humans, she switches to a very clumsy Draconic, speaking in the fast-paced and high-pitched kobold dialect:

"They is kind of a mess, no?"

[Inspector Valin]

Sigrid is quite accustomed to spotting someone lurking nearby over the edge of a book: something of a long practiced skill on her part. The Kundarak sighs, putting her tome down upon the bench beside her with a final mournful glance. As much as she'd like to hide away in the corner until the true purpose of this night begun, that wouldn't be becoming of someone in her position. She's the heir of a Dragonmarked house, after all. A daughter of the Warders would never be rude enough to outright refuse hospitality offered.

Besides... this whole thing is a risk to end all risks, when you get down to it. A good drink may steady her nerves.

After a few seconds reflection, Sigrid gives the serving woman a friendly smile. "If you've a stew pot going, I'll take a bowl. And a mug of bitter, chilled." The thought of a good drink makes Sig sigh, her memory turning to happier times. She gives the halfling a conspiratorial look, the friendly smile turning a touch roguish. "I don't suppose you've got a stock of Karrnathi Black all the way out here, but can you get me something close to it? I've a hunch tonight will be a long one."

[czieg]

"Well that's interesting. I myself am looking for knowledge that has been lost, and an expedition into unknown lands felt like a good place to start." Tuulo listens Shahaar's question and looks back at Akshav, curious. Getting a perspective of a lizardfolk on "civilization" coming to their home fascinated him. When Shahaar shifts from Common to a fast-paced, growling tongue the confusion is plain on his face, looking between the two for a moment.

[esorscher]

Akshav raises an eyebrow at the goblins use of her native tongue, or approximation of it at least. Responding in kind, she says, "<It is too soon for me to judge.>" Then, switching back to Common, she says, "My first impression of them was when they broke their treaty with us to settle on our land. At the time, I thought them greedy and deceitful. So far I have not seen anything to disprove that notion. But, I remain open to the possibility that there are some among them who will." She looks around the room, conscious of the variety of races represented, and trying to walk the line between honesty and tact, hoping that she does not offend anyone within earshot. "I am working hard to prevent my initial judgments from clouding my experience so far." Looking from Tuulo to Shahaar and back, she says, "How does their 'civilization,'" she says, the tone in her voice indicating she does not define Newthrone as such, "compare to your homes?"

[bc56]

Hearing the Goblin's assessment, Vash nods, "That's right, I suppose. Money always seems to give that sense." She turns in her seat to face the newcomers. "The name's Vash. I'm an archaeologist and a musician. I heard there was fame and treasure to be had here. I just hope I'm not mistaken." She says, glancing at the door, where their host has yet to arrive. She doesn't seem confused at all by the draconic conversation, although she says nothing in response.

[astragalos]

When Akshav answers Shahaar's question and poses a question of her own, the goblin takes a moment to think, then responds, "From what I've seen of Sharn, the Brelish are indeed greedy and deceitful, but what I find frustrating is that they claim not to be, which makes them hypocrites. Droaam is a new experiment, but we're more honest about who and what we are."

She turns towards Vash, and inclines her head in acknowledgment, "You're honest, too, in saying that you're here for the fame and the treasure."

A sly grin appears on Shahaar's face as she addresses Tuulo next, "As for other reasons why some of us are here, lost knowledge is also an interest of mine." Silently, she thinks, He wears the symbol of Boldrei, but lost knowledge could be the Shadow's just as easily as Aureon's. I'll have to take this slowly, but this could be interesting...

[WhismurWanders]

After a few seconds reflection, Sigrid gives the serving woman a friendly smile. "If you've a stew pot going, I'll take a bowl. And a mug of bitter, chilled." The thought of a good drink makes Sig sigh, her memory turning to happier times. She gives the halfling a conspiratorial look, the friendly smile turning a touch roguish. "I don't suppose you've got a stock of Karrnathi Black all the way out here, but can you get me something close to it? I've a hunch tonight will be a long one."

The halfling nods eagerly and responds cheerily, "I'll see what I can find for you!" She scurries off to fulfill the request, quickly vanishing around the stage, behind the bar, and into the room beyond, presumably a back room for storage. Those of you at the bar may notice her emerge from the room with an expensive looking bottle and a glass, as well as a beaming smile on her face. At a similar moment, you can hear a commotion from outside. Vash, who has been watching the door throughout the conversation, sees a halfling in a tailored suit and a pince-nez trailing behind him run towards the bar, dragging the sign which was previously hanging above the doorway. Out of breath, he snaps his fingers to get the bartender's attention, but instead finds himself at odds with the waitress holding expensive bottle. Without a word, he grabs the bottle from her hands, opens it, and takes a quick swig before sputtering, suprised at what he seems to have drunk without looking. "Karrnathi Black? Someone here has good taste..." he mumbles to more to himself as he catches his breath. The waitress, aghast, only manages to stutter, "M-Mr. Coppernail, please!" He waves her off and asks, "Where was this bottle going? I'll sort this out with the fine sir or lady." Flabbergasted, the waitress only points towards the booth where Sigrid was still waiting on her drink, and he rushes off with the bottle, swiping a pair of glasses from the bar on his way past, much to the displeasure of the bartender. He crosses the room quickly and slides into Sigrid's booth, sitting opposite the dwarf before taking a moment to collect himself, finally placing his spectacles back on the bridge of his nose as he places the two glasses between them. He pours Sigrid a polite amount into the glass closest to her, and then turns to pour a hearty glass for himself. "Fine taste you've got, ordering something like this. I wouldn't have imagined to think they'd have a fine drink like this out here." He downs his drink quickly before tugging at the stiff collar of his shirt. "Listen, I just need to lay low for a while. What's your name? What're we celebrating, hmm?" His eyes narrow for a moment before he interrupts, again, "Oh, and no matter what you've heard I'm definitely NOT Ostran Coppernail, no matter who asks. Understand?"

Back at the front of the tavern, most seem to have ignored the mild interruption and turn back to their drinks or conversations. A loud slam sounds from the doorway, and four broad, muscular lizardfolk push their way into the tavern. Each of them is easily 9 feet tall, dwarfing everyone else in the tavern, and the largest might even clear 10 feet. Their scales are all a dull black, almost too black to be real. The largest and most imposing brings up a pistol in one hand and fires off two shots into the ceiling, instantly silencing all activity in the room. The three smaller lizardfolk, armed with small spears, fan out through the room as if searching for something while the largest one pulls himself onto the stage. The terrified singers evacuate quickly, but the warforged pianist is given a shove as the reptilian deems his speed to be insufficient. He growls as he scans the room, and fearlessly stares down several weapons already being trained on him from several directions, including one rifle the bartender was holding. "Foolish soft-skins," he taunts, raising his voice to fill the room as he paces around the raised stage. His voice is deep and gravelly, and his Common is thickly accented. "I am only here for two things, and then you may enjoy the rest of your festival. First, I am looking for the small-man known as Ostran Coppernail. After-first, I am looking for a traitorous scaled-one, a Cold-Sun weakling. This ..." He pauses for a moment, the next word apparently giving him some difficulty, "expedition promises treasures. This is lies!" He slams his fist down on the top of the piano, with enough force to cause a quiet cacophony of strings. "The treasures are not his to give. If you come looking for trouble in the jungle, do not be suprised when it comes to your door. We will leave you all in peace, once we have found the Coppernail and the Cold-Sun. Tell us where either of them are, and all things will be good again."

During his speech, the other three lizardfolk have been searching around the room, low growls seeming to constantly leave their throats. Reptilian eyes peer over the patrons and the wait staff, and a few shrieks and gasps can be heard from around the room. One of the other lizardfolk stops in front of Akshav as his search brings him across her seat, and his eyes narrow. He turns back to the stage where the presumed leader is still waiting for results, and asks something in Draconic*. The leader turns to examine Akshav from the stage before shaking his head. He answers his companion in his broken Common, "She may be Cold-Sun, and a weakling, but she is not the one we are looking for." His eyes narrow in disgust as he turns away from her, and he mutters something under his breath, this time in his mother tongue*. The smaller thug sneers at Akshav before spitting on her, his insult landing on the scales of her chest.

"It's not this one, is it Kashruk? She's not the weakling?"
"Though it would seem there are more traitors here than we feared..."

In case people are confused to where everyone/everything is, here's a map (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1xP08ga6SprR6vRDXrSUEe3vv6xwCdQyHm_EnVnWAWJk/edit?usp=sharing).

[Inspector Valin]

"Why, as it happens I was celebrating the arrival of one Not-Ostran-Coppernail!" Sigrid's more amused by the halfling's actions than offended. Hardly discreet, but she doubts him capable of any truly heinous activity, and seeing someone so vibrant and full of energy (and able to appreciate a fine drink) is quite refreshing after days stuck going over accounts. She tops up her glass of bitter, bringing it to a level closer to the halflings. Nobody accuses a daughter of the holds of half measures. The dragonmarked heir brings her drink up for a toast, bubbles rising from the black as she looks across the rim at her new companion. With a chuckle, the dwarfen mage offers Ostran a hand to shake, a faint red mark just visible at the tip of the palm, running down beneath the coat sleeve.

"Sigrid d'Kundarak. A pleasure."

Sig takes a hearty swig of her drink; between that and Ostran it takes her a second to notice the arrival of the lizardfolk. The pistol round to the ceiling however is enough to focus her attention where it has to be. The dwarfen mage's blood runs cold as she looks up at the quartet of scaled demons, the same colour as her drink. She listens intently to the leader's words, but scowls: it's hard to take a being with a gun's sense of civic duty all that seriously. But what could she do? She's no bodyguard, or Silver Key.

But she has combat magic. And right now, a friendly face needs her help. Her mind travels back a good few years, to a lightning rail cart. She can't let this stand.

With a frown, Sigrid glances around the room, taking in the layout more closely. She mutters out of the side of her mouth, just loud enough for Ostran to hear. "Stay behind me. Run to the kitchen if you get your chance, but don't risk it if any of them are close. I'm a historian, not a bodyguard, but I've enough magic to keep them busy."

I hope To say Sigrid had doubts about this situation would be putting it mildly, but no decent Heir of the Mark lets their fears show to a client. With an exhale of breath, Sig gets to her feet, checking the dagger and wand at her beltside, before glancing up to the bottle of Karrnathi Black and Ostran. She winks at the halfling, placing a hand to her glass. "One last toast, for the road?"

[astragalos]

Shahaar belatedly notices the halfling who can only be Ostran Coppernail sitting down at a booth with the wealthy dwarf and asking for his identity to be concealed, but before she has a chance to react, the large black-scaled lizardfolk burst through the front door and one of them fires a pistol shot into the ceiling. She looks to Akshav to see how her new acquaintance reacts to their demands and to being spat upon. Akshav towers over Shahaar by several feet, but these other lizardfolk are the size of ogres...an association that triggers instinctive wariness in the goblin ex-slave. She also gets the sense that there's some sort of inter-tribal conflict or tension, but she can't figure out the details, so she stays silently observant for the time being. As for Coppernail, she has no compelling reason to risk herself for him, but she doesn't have any reason to blow his cover, either. She sees the dwarf stand up and propose a toast. That's bold, she thinks.

[bc56]

Amidst the commotion, Vash begins to hum a few bars of a song quietly to herself, her hands dropping to the hilt of her blade and to the engraved flute on her belt. She speaks in Common to the lizardman, putting on a displeased and disgusted face to help sell her lie. "Ostran ain't here yet. Bloody rich twerp is making us wait."

[czieg]

'Well, this is a mess. Where are the door guards?' Tuulo takes his staff in his hands and slides off his stool, leaning heavily on the stout wood. 'They opened with a threat, announcing themselves with a pistol. That hardly bodes well.' He lets out a loud mhmm when the one guard spits on Akshav. Tuulo's first instinct would be to admonish the lizardfolk, but he holds his tongue for the moment, watching for a reaction from Akshav.

"I'm afraid Mr. Coppernail is running late." Tuulo lets his gaze move to each of the lizardfolk, one by one. "I'm sure that whatever is the issue, we can resolve this with a calm discussion." The tortle's gaze returns to the apparent leader. "Why are you so eager to find this 'Cold-Scale' and what will you do when you find them?" Looking beyond the head lizardfolk, Tuulo looks for any sign of the two door guards, and then blood on the lizardfolk.

Perception if needed- [roll0]

[esorscher]

Her primal brain sends signals to her jaws and legs, urging her to lunge at this offender, and she nearly does so before she hears a quiet voice in the back of her mind, an admonitory hiss. Do not jeopardize your mission, the voice of her patron whispers, and instead, she looks down at the floor, then up at the lizardfolk in front of her. Wordlessly, she spits in his face.

[WhismurWanders]

With a frown, Sigrid glances around the room, taking in the layout more closely. She mutters out of the side of her mouth, just loud enough for Ostran to hear. "Stay behind me. Run to the kitchen if you get your chance, but don't risk it if any of them are close. I'm a historian, not a bodyguard, but I've enough magic to keep them busy."

Not-Ostran almost imperceptibly nods, his face white as a sheet as he staunchly refuses to look in the direction of the commotion behind him. The two gunshots were enough to shake him to the core, and he had leaned forward in intently when Sigrid's voice drops and she explains her plan. He turns his body as she stands by the front of the booth, preparing for whatever unspoken signal the dwarf is about to give. When she asks, "One last toast, for the road?" he quickly and quietly pours them each a drink, both his hands visibly shaking as he does so. "To ... to our ... to our getting out of here?" he offers weakly.


Amidst the commotion, Vash begins to hum a few bars of a song quietly to herself, her hands dropping to the hilt of her blade and to the engraved flute on her belt. She speaks in Common to the lizardman, putting on a displeased and disgusted face to help sell her lie. "Ostran ain't here yet. Bloody rich twerp is making us wait."


"I'm afraid Mr. Coppernail is running late." Tuulo lets his gaze move to each of the lizardfolk, one by one. "I'm sure that whatever is the issue, we can resolve this with a calm discussion." The tortle's gaze returns to the apparent leader. "Why are you so eager to find this 'Cold-Scale' and what will you do when you find them?" Looking beyond the head lizardfolk, Tuulo looks for any sign of the two door guards, and then blood on the lizardfolk.

The leader turns to adress these questions, slightly irritated that his cronies aren't making any progress. "Spare me your feigned interest. This is nothing that concerns you or anyone else in this room. The treasure he has promised the Coppernail is not his to give. For this, he will be treated as a thief, according to our ways. He will not be mangled, but he will be punished." He examines the four of you sitting at the bar with a spark of curiousity in his eye, and remarks, "Though I wonder if Coppernail has not already selected his warriors ... and they are waiting for his arrival, as you have said, and preparing to journey before the night is done..."

Tuulo's perceptive glances reveal no signs of blood on the lizardfolk, but the two guards who were at the door are nowhere to be seen.


Her primal brain sends signals to her jaws and legs, urging her to lunge at this offender, and she nearly does so before she hears a quiet voice in the back of her mind, an admonitory hiss. Do not jeopardize your mission, the voice of her patron whispers, and instead, she looks down at the floor, then up at the lizardfolk in front of her. Wordlessly, she spits in his face.

The dark-scaled lizardfolk recoils and hisses, bringing back one clawed hand before slapping Akshav across the face. He growls in Draconic, <"Remember your place, Cold-scale, before I devour an insect like you!"> The leader clears his throat to reassert his control over the situation, but it's easy to see the other lizardfolk are on edge after Akshav's defiance, spears at the ready as their tails thrash angrily behind them.

Blackscale Thug (M6) hits Akshav with an unarmed strike for 1 damage.

[Inspector Valin]

Sigrid clinks the glass, downing her drink without looking back. Her attention is on the lizardfolk, who seem to be continuing to focus their attention on the bar patrons. With a little luck, she'll be able to get Ostran to the kitchen, and secure him there. That won't get rid of the lizardfolk, but at least they won't be able to hurt an innocent man. With luck her fellow would be adventures will prove enough to take the scaled sacks of muscle down a peg.

If I can sneak in a casting of Mage Armor before we roll initiative, I will. :smallwink: But eh, the first die has been thrown, feels kinda cheap to ask for a chance to get a spell in. Still, can't hurt to ask, right?

[czieg]

Tuulo steps forward, his staff hitting the floor with a thunk. If attention was on him, perhaps the well-dressed dwarf could get the halfling out of the building without attracting attention.

"You may deal with one of your people in your ways. I have no say in that, and neither does anyone else here. But." The tortle straightens as much as someone with a couple hundred pound weight on their back can. "You have entered a place not your own, with a weapon that came from outside your lands, threatening us. In this, you have violated our ways. It's unreasonable demand we follow your customs, yet not follow ours."

Tuulo isn't blind to the fact that this will likely entice the lizardfolk to do something in retaliation, so he's watching for a swing from the lizardfolk near him or a shot from the one in charge.

Taking the dodge action if Tuulo can?

[WhismurWanders]

The lizards hiss violently at Tuulo's defiance, and the leader brings his pistol down to aim at Tuulo, glaring menacingly at the tortle. "A place not our own? This land was ours long before the softskins could even imagine crossing the mountains or the seas to reach us. All places in Q'barra are our own." His thumb reaches up to prime the hammer of his weapon. "I will not warn you again. Mind your own business."

Akshav, Tuulo, and Sigrid each get a turn before the lizards. Sigrid can have cast Mage Armor prior to this post.

[esorscher]

As the leader finishes speaking, Akshav takes advantage of the opening caused by his distracting words, and attempts to bite the larger lizardfolk in front of her. She lunges forward, drawing her dagger as she does so. Her pointy teeth grope for the flesh around his neck, while at the same time, the dagger in her hand tries to find a place between his ribs.

Move: Draw Dagger
Attack: Dagger ([roll0]; [roll1])
Bonus Action: Inspired Hungry Jaws ([roll2], [roll3]; [roll4])

[Inspector Valin]

Sigrid has to resist the urge to raise her glass at Tuulo's words. The strange creature very much has the right of it, and the courage to stand face to face with the giant reptile brandishing a pistol is quite inspiring. He and that other Lizardfolk, the one who the strangers had harangued, seem more than ready to throw down the gauntlet. Using the little time left to her, she starts to make a series of arcane gestures while muttering to Ostran. "We've an opening. Look to that swing door, run for it when things get dark. I'll stay as close as I can, you have my word." Tendrils of mist are starting to rise up across the tavern even as she speaks.

Delaying until Tuulo and Akshav have acted, then casting Fog Cloud as a second level spell. That gives me a sphere with a radius of 40ft, so a diameter of 80ft end to end. Centred in the room, I believe that covers almost the entire Tired Anteater (which on your map is a 70 by 80 square). While within the fog, everyone's effectively blinded: even darkvision doesn't break it since it's physical obscurement. It needs either a wind spell, or for someone to break Sigrid's concentration.

With that, Sigrid's looking to move with Ostran, keeping herself between him and the Lizardfolk, making for the flip door. To do so, she'll move up to the stage and take N9. I'm pretty sure it'll take a second round to reach the door, but once she does, she can arcane lock it with her dragonmark and get our VIP to something approaching actual safety.

[czieg]

"If you would defend your claim with strength of arm, then so be it," and then Tuulo moves, and while he does not move especially fast for his size, there is little wasted movement as he crosses the space between him and the lizardfolk on the stage. Once in range, he swings with his quarterstaff at the black-scaled warrior, then steps forward and holding his fingers together like a blade, makes a strike at the shoulder of their gun-wielding arm.

Moving from I5->I6->K6->K8 to avoid any attacks of opportunity.
Quarterstaff: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Monk Unarmed Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

[WhismurWanders]

Akshav's quick movements catch the arrogant Blackscale completely by suprise, and he screeches as both her jaws and her dagger taste blood. As Tuulo charges the leader, the massive reptilian brings up his other arm to fend off the quarterstaff, though Tuulo's claws do dig into its target, and the leader's grip on the pistol wavers for a moment. He grinds his teeth to mask the pain before pulling himself free of Tuulo's claws. Chaos ensues around the tavern as a few of the patrons take extra precautions to stay away from the erupting brawl, made even more poignant by the sudden appearance of a dense, murky fog that covers all but the furthest corners of the room, enveloping just about everyone within it. The fog is as thick as they come, and it becomes difficult to even see your own hands in front of your face without incredible effort.

One of the other thuggish lizards can be heard shouting, <"They've used magic! Someone else is aiding the interlopers!"> The leader's voice shouts back, <"Disperse for now. Find the Coppernail! He must be here!">

The lizardfolk trapped in Akshav's jaws regains enough composure to slam the butt of his spear into her chest, forcing her mouth open and giving him an opportunity to run away deeper into the fog. The leader also takes the opportunity to rid himself of Tuulo's interference, his long wiry tail disappearing into the dense fog as he snarls in frustration. The other two Blackscales can be heard moving around through the fog and occasionally knocking over the locale's furnishings, but their predatory instincts give them a talent for being unseen. Only Sigrid has an idea of where one lizard might be as the air shifts near her vantage point on the stage from sudden movement.

Not-Ostran, in the meantime, bolts towards the kitchen as quickly as his little legs will carry him. His location can only be determined by the occasional exclamations of "Pardon me!", "Coming through!" and "Make way!" which can be heard along his path. He manages to stumble out of the fog cloud's cover through the small flap which separated the main room from the bar, and is standing right in front of the door to the kitchen, taking a small moment to grab a nearby bottle and take a long swig before clunking the bottle back down on the nearby counter.


Akshav hits the Thug with both attacks for 8 total damage, and gains 5 THP
Tuulo critically hits the boss for 9 damage
Sigrid casts Fog Could (Level 2), heavily obscuring almost the entirety of the tavern
The lizardfolk spread out and take the Hide action (no Attacks of Opportunity due to heavy obscurement)
Ostran dashes to P3 (and is currently not obscured)


A note on the Fog Cloud: unless you're standing near one of the outer walls, chances are very high that you're heavily obscured. Also: a reminder that searching for a hidden enemy is an Action (Perception check).

[Inspector Valin]

The slight imbalance in the fog makes a chill run down Sigrid's spine. She's suddenly all too conscious of the faint odor of roses she'd applied to herself back before entering the Anteater. She can not afford to stay here for long. Before the lizard has a chance to lunge at her, Sig has jumped from the stage, wheeling around through the flap to stand at Ostran's side. She turns to face the tavern floor, ready for any lizardfolk to rush on the charge, but spares her new friend a sidelong glance and a look she hopes is encouraging.

"Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?"

By the Host, she hopes not. Regardless, she raps briefly on the kitchen door with her off hand. "Whenever you're ready. No one breaks a Kundarak seal." In the tavern proper, the cloud of mist is already starting to recede. As far as Sigrid's concerned, it bought her and Ostran the time they needed.

Sigrid's trying to move to P4: once there she'll delay until Ostran's through the door, then Arcane Lock it with her Dragonmark. She'll also lift the fog cloud as soon as she reaches the square: by that point Ostran has her between him and the lizardfolk and the latter won't have the advantage of concealment when their cover's gone.

[astragalos]

Shahaar finds herself impressed by Akshav's sheer audacity in spitting back at the larger lizard. She is caught by surprise, however, as complete mayhem breaks out in the Tired Anteater. Before she can decide what to do, a thick fog fills the room, obscuring her vision. "Keeper take you all!" she curses under her breath.

She hops off the stool, draws her mace, and unhooks her shield from her backpack. Suddenly, the magical fog disappears just as suddenly as it appeared, leaving everyone exposed once again. Ostran and the dwarf are nowhere to be seen, though she recalls hearing the halfling's voice earlier through the fog, somewhere off to her left. Up until now, she has been undecided how she wants to position herself in this complicated conflict. She can feel the Fury stirring within her, though, and she impulsively decides to cast her lot in with the bold Akshav rather than with the ogre-like bullies. She takes several steps closer to Akshav, raising her shield and mace defensively, and waits to see what the black-scaled lizards will do next. <"You ok?"> she asks Akshav.

Move to L6. Unfortunately, after drawing her mace I think she has to use her action to grab her shield with her other hand.

If she is allowed to do both as free actions, she readies an action to cast command ("grovel" in Draconic) against any enemies who attack her or Akshav, Wisdom DC 12.

AC: 18
HP: 24/24
1st Lvl Spells: 4/4
2nd Lvl Spells: 2/2

[bc56]

Vash stands and draws her blade. She too slips into the fog, whistling softly before clambering onto the stage and crouching down near where the piano is. She watches for Blackscale legs to come past where she is hiding.


Move to J8
Hide: [roll0]

[czieg]

'This fog works for and against the Lizardfolk.' Tuulo's mind spins for a moment, weighing everything. He couldn't see any of the lizardfolk, but he could predict where they would go. 'They want the halfling, and they want to leave here.' He starts to move toward where he could block off the way to the door for the lizardfolk, but then the fog disappates, leaving everything clear to see. Changing tac, he closes in with the black-scaled lizardfolk next to the dwarven woman, figuring himself most suited to draw their attention.

Move to M10
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
If Crit: [roll2]

Monk Unarmed Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
If Crit: [roll5]

[esorscher]

"<Fine.>" Akshav responds in Draconic, almost dismissively. She scrambles over the bar and ducks behind it to use as cover, her eyes darting around the room searching for the Blackscale Thug who had spit on her. Finding him, she calls upon her eldritch patron and sends a blast of Dendar's energy toward him.

Move to M3.
Attack: Eldritch Blast ([roll0], [roll1])

[WhismurWanders]

Not-Ostran snatches another bottle before pushing through the door. As Sigrid closes it behind him, he panicks for a moment and shouts, "Y-you'll come back for me, right?!?" but doesn't hinder Sigrid from sealing the door. As the fog lifts, two of the lizards, one thug and the leader, are suddenly caught out in the open, no longer hidden from sight. The tavern suddenly becomes a veritable battlefield as numerous bottles, a handful of spells, and a few pieces of ammunition suddenly fly through the air, the tavern's inhabitants clearly fed up with the antics of the intruders and emboldened by those of you taking a stand. Few, if any, manage to strike the lizards, but they do serve as a good distraction. Among them is Akshav's chaotic bolt, which harmlessly sails over the head of her target and fizzles against the back wall. Tuulo's staff doesn't seem to phase the imposing lizard he decided to attack, but the follow up punch manages to land squarely against an unprepared reptilian snout, forcing the thug to stumble slightly before he returns the favor, despite already breathing heavily as if the fighting spirit was leaving him quickly.

The dark-scaled lizard lashes out twice with his spear at the Tortle, the first jab harmlessly glancing off of Tuulo's shell. The second jab is more successful, finding an opening between Tuulo's fluid movements and his hard carapace. From just beyond the struggle between the two of them, the loud bang of a pistol preceding a shot that catches Tuulo in the shoulder. Quick reflexes were able to save the monk from worse damage by shifting his shell to at least dampen some of the force, but there will no doubt be a bruise there the next morning, if not later that evening.

The other lizards, having regained whatever bravery inspired them to attack in the first place, seem to swarm from their hiding places. One charges from behind a toppled table to attack Shahaar, jaws snapping hungrily, and spear thrusting wildly. She manages to avoid the mouth full of teeth with a defensive sweep of her mace, but the spear manages to slip through and jab through her armor. Another spear comes flying from somewhere behind the piano on the stage, but it harmlessly embeds itself into the stool adjacent to her, knocking it over with a loud clattering.


Ostran moves into the kitchen
Sigrid casts Arcane Lock on the door and drops concentration on Fog Cloud
Shahaar draws her mace and dons her shield (a shield always requires an action to don/doff, so unfortunately no held action applies)
Akshav's Eldritch Blast misses
Tuulo strikes the Blackscale Thug for 5 damage
Vash is hidden
Blackscale Thug moves from H8->G7->H6->K6; attacks Shahaar and hits once for 7 damage
Blackscale Thug moves from J12->K12; throws a javelin at Shahaar and misses; moves back to J12
Blackscale Thug (N10) attacks Tuulo and hits once for 8 damage
Kashruk attacks Tuulo and critically hits for 10 damage, reduced to 4 damage by Deflect Missile

[czieg]

'That might be an issue.' Tuulo grunts at the feeling of the bullet impacting his shell and the feeling of a blade making it's way past his shell and staff. He pivoted his position so he could properly engage both of the lizardfolk. Crouching low so he's better able to angle his shell in the way of attacks, he lashes out with low strike of his staff at the more injured of the two lizardfolk.

Move to N11 so in melee range for both of the lizardfolk.
Attack on Nameless Blackscale at N10, if he's down by then, switching to the pistol-wielder.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Crit: [roll2]

HP: 12/24
Ki Points: 2/3

Bonus Action, spend a ki point to Patient Defense Dodge Action

[astragalos]

Shahaar yelps as the lizard rushes her and stabs her in the shoulder with its spear, then snarls with rage. The Fury within her urges her to hurl herself at the lizard who is twice her size, but luckily the Mockery and His battle cunning prevail. Shahaar carefully retreats behind a table, shoving her mace back through her belt and muttering a quick prayer in Goblin--{Mockery, give me victory}--as she points at the lizard who wounded her. A shadowy kama appears where she had been seconds ago, slashing at the lizard's throat.

Shahaar uses her action to Disengage, moves to P7 while sheathing her mace, and then uses her bonus action to cast Spiritual Weapon at L6. Using Fury of the Small to add +3 to her melee spell attack.

Melee Spell Attack: [roll0]
Force Damage: [roll1]
Spiritual Weapon Duration: 1 minute (9 more rounds)

AC: 18
HP: 17/24
1st Lvl Spells: 4/4
2nd Lvl Spells: 1/2

[esorscher]

Displaying an almost single-minded focus, Akshav utters a curse of admonishment against the lizardfolk who challenged her, and then sends another blast of eldritch energy across the room at his chest.

Bonus: Hex (Strength Ability Checks)
Move: None
Attack: Eldritch Blast ([roll0], [roll1]+[roll2]

[Inspector Valin]

Sigrid can't hide a chuckle at Ostran's worried words. It's easy to relate to the poor man. She calls through the door, "As soon as they're gone, you'll be out and free, I promise." For the moment though, the dwarfen wizard turns back to the tavern proper. The fight is now in full swing.

Jumping back through the flap door, Sig is just in time to see a goblin woman withdrawing, her shoulder bloodied by a lizard spear. Without a word, the Kundarak wizard follows her, taking a spot at the barside between the stranger and the menacing lizard. She raises an eyebrow at the shadowy kama arising: she's evidently not the only magic worker here. A brief arcane chant of her own brings a circle of gently glowing runes up around Sigrid's hand. With a twirl of the wrist, and a few harsh syllables of her native tongue, the dwarfen mage sends three bolts of bright energy spinning out across the tavern before turning to Shahaar. "I'll stay here. This way they can't flank us, right?"

Idiotic, having to point that out. Who says something like that in the middle of a bar fight? Sigrid blushes, coughing in an attempt to excuse herself "Sorry. I'm not used to... this."

Moving to O6, aiming to cover Shahaar's escape and make sure the Lizard can't close to melee with her again. Casting Magic Missile; first one targeting the Thug that's meleeing Tuulo, second targeting Kashruk and third on the thug that was targeting Shahaar.
[roll0] Tuulo's Thug
[roll1] Kashruk
[roll2] Shahaar's Thug

Reminder: Sigrid has multiple reaction options to boost her AC. She's likely to stick to Arcane Deflection, boosting her AC to 17 against the first attack of the round. If it looks like a bunch of foes are targeting her, she'll switch up to casting Shield for AC 20 for a round.

[bc56]

Vash stands, pressing her flute to her lips. She blows, playing a discordant, uncomfortable trill, the melody laced with magic and focused on the lizardfolk leader.

Breaking stealth and casting Dissonant Whispers on Kashruk. DC 13 Wis save, [roll0] psychic damage and must use reaction to flee on a failed save, half damage on a success.

[WhismurWanders]

Tuulo's swing connects hard with the lizardfolk, Akshav's magic once again fails to connect, and one of the magical bolts from Sigrid zips in to kill the brute, a smoldering wound in his neck marking the arcane energy which felled him. The brute collapses to the floor almost silently, clawed hand attempting to swipe futilely at Tuulo as he expires.

Closer to the front of the room, the shadowy sickle summoned by Shahaar delivers a devastating slash to the thug who was previously threatening the Goblin, almost forcing him to the ground. The strike leaves him open to the homing bolt from Sigrid. In the face of such overwhelming arcane force, the thug decides to cover his losses and turns to run for the door.

The leader snarls at the sudden shift in the battle's tide, and shakes off the haunting unease that seems to emanate from Vash, despite being interrupted for a moment. Disregarding Tuulo's passive stance, he charges headlong at the half-elf responsible, drawing a curved sword from a scabbard as he roars loudly. One swing from the sword ends up grazing the piano and chipping off the top corner of wood, but the fist closed around the pistol swings down to strike Vash successfully. The remaining thug moves around the piano to flank Vash to follow up with his leader's attack. The thug relies on fang and claw, having rid himself of his weapon before, and one bite manages to draw blood despite Vash's armor.


Tuulo and Sigrid's attacks kill the Blackscale Thug (M10)
Shahaar's Spiritual Weapon deals 13 damage, Sigrid's Magic Missile deals 2 damage to Blackscale Thug (K6)
Sigrid's Magic Missile deals 4 damage to Kashruk
Kashruk makes his wisdom save (18) and takes 5 damage from Vash's Dissonant Whispers
Kashruk moves to K7; triggering an AoO from Tuulo, and attacks Vash twice; hitting once for 4 damage
Blackscale Thug(J12) moves to I8 and attacks Vash twice; hitting once for 6 damage
Blackscale Thug(K6) moves to G3 and takes the Dodge action

[astragalos]

"Stand and fight wherever you want," Shahaar responds to the dwarven spellcaster beside her, keeping her eyes focused on the fight while she speaks, but speaking in a tone of grudging respect despite her impatience with the conversation. Her battle frenzy is up and she wants to complete her vengeance against the lizard who stabbed her, but she sees that the two remaining lizards have ganged up on the half-elf Vash and recognizes that Kashruk is the biggest threat. The hovering kama, now appearing to drip blood even though it didn't actually cut its previous target, strikes at the back of the lizard leader's head. Simultaneously, a burst of black fire emits from Shahaar's hand and streaks towards Kashruk. {"Shadow, smite him!"} she prays.

As bonus action, move spiritual weapon to K6, attack Kashruk. Cast guiding bolt at Kashruk.

Spiritual Weapon Attack: [roll0]
Force Damage: [roll1]
Duration: 8 more rounds

Guiding Bolt Attack: [roll2]
Radiant Damage: [roll3]

AC: 18
HP: 17/24
1st Lvl Spells: 3/4
2nd Lvl Spells: 1/2

[esorscher]

From her position behind the bar, Akshav sees the lizardfolk who spit on her fall to the others who have taken up the fight, and feels a sense of gratitude and relief at their success. She turns her attention on the Blackscale thug attempting to flee, and sends a blast of Eldritch energy in his direction.


Bonus: Move Hex to fleeing Lizardfolk (G3)
Move: Draw Club
Attack: Eldritch Blast [roll0], [roll1]+[roll2] vs. Blackscale Thug in G3

[Inspector Valin]

"Fair enough!"

Sigrid grins as her new friend(?) turns her attention to the leader of the brigands, though that expression fades as she surveys the battlefield more closely. The strike to the piano top makes Sigrid wince alone. The remaining lizards ganging up on that half elven woman really couldn't be allowed anyway, they've as good as lost the fight already. Let's finish this quickly before anything else gets broken. With a deep breath, the dwarfen mage starts to draw magic into herself, focusing on memories of rainy days from long ago. While performing this mental exercise she starts running forward, vaulting onto the stage and plucking a dagger from her belt.

"Surrender!"

The first word will not be enough. The rolling lightning coursing across the stage might help. Sigrid's voice rings out like thunder. "... Or be destroyed!"

Bonus: Casting Dragon's Breath: Lightning
Moving to L7
Using Dragon's Breath: Kashruk and the Blackscale Thug have to pass a DC 13 reflex save or take [roll0] lightning damage. (half if they make the save)

[czieg]

Tuulo gives a thin smile of satisfaction when the lizardfolk falls under the combination of his own blow and the dwarf's magical attack. That done, he turns and sees the one black scale making a break for the exit. Judging the other combatants able to deal with the largest of the lizardfolk and his one remaining ally, he channels the power of his spirit into his legs and moves across the battle-chaos of the tavern far faster than someone his size has any right to. In a moment, he is behind the fleeing lizardfolk with his staff coming in for a strike.

Move action + Bonus Action- Step of the Wind = 80 feet. Moving N11->M12->G12->G4.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
If Crit: [roll2]

Attack of Opportunity on the first black scale to trigger it.
Attack: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
If Crit: [roll5]

HP: 12/24
Ki Points: 1/3

[bc56]

"I've gotten worse injuries from rusty nails," Vash states, "You'll have to do better than that!" Despite her bold words, she's bleeding onto the stage from where the lizardfolks' weapons cut her. She hums a few bars to heal herself and stabs at Kashruk with her rapier.


Bonus action Healing Word self: [roll0].
Attack Kashruk [roll1] to hit. Possibly with advantage from Guiding Bolt [roll2]
[roll3] damage.

[WhismurWanders]

As the amount of spells and magics seem to increase, the leader and his cronies start to lose their discipline as they slowly realize how determined you are at stopping them from leaving the tavern alive. Though the hulking leader is missed entirely by Shahaar's shadowy summoned weapon, the bolt of radiant energy momentarily blinds him. Despite this, Sigrid's thunderous spell and Vash's expertly swung rapier don't seem to phase Kashruk much, the latter being parried awkwardly with his sword while the former hits the thug behind Vash much harder.

Near the front, Akshav's magical bolt manages to severely maim the retreating lizardfolk, despite the bartender and a waiter grumpily shouting at her to watch where she's aiming (having needed to aim past two warm, non-hostile bodies to hit the reptilian in the first place). Tuulo's charge unfortunately doesn't quite connect the way he wants it to, but a follow up smash to the knee of the thug as he attempts to flee in panic brings him to the ground with a pained howl. A few remaining embers of Akshav's magic burn his fading life-force away, and he too is no longer a threat.

Realizing they are now cornered, and that the resisting group has no intention of letting them leave alive or flee, the two remaining lizards whip themselves into a frenzy, lashing out at those closest to them. The leader's jagged, curved sword swings twice at Sigrid. One strike connects into a harsh blow despite the arcane defenses and wards Sigrid has cast around her, but the backswing for the followup is interfered with by the shadowy kama flanking him, causing the swing to go wide. The thug by Vash continues to bite and claw with the ferocity of a cornered animal, this time powerful claws reopening wounds freshly closed by Vash's magic.


Shahaar's Spiritual Weapon misses; Guiding Bolt hits for 10 damage
Kashruk makes his save (25) against Sigrid's Dragon Breath and takes 5 damage, the Thug does not and takes 10 damage
Akshav's Eldritch Blast hits (despite disadvantage AND half-cover :smalleek:) for 7 damage
Tuulo's attack misses, but the AoO kills the thug
Vash (despite advantage :smallconfused:) misses her attack on Kashruk
Kashruk attacks Sigrid twice; hitting once (Arcane Deflection won't help) for 9 damage; this provokes a DC 10 concentration check to maintain Dragon Breath
Thug attacks Vash twice; hitting once for 5 damage

[Inspector Valin]

Kashruk's strike hits squarely past Sigrid's ward, striking her near the gut. The Q'barran clearly knows what he's doing when it comes to swordplay. The dwarfen mage almost falls to her knees at the pain, as blood starts to seep into her ruffled shirt. Still, looking up at the Lizardman, Sigrid's eyes gleem with defiance. "You... think that's enough to kill a Kundarak?"

With a less-than-elegent grunt, she's on her feet again, and calls out at the top of her lungs. "Guess again!" Once more lightning crackles from her mouth, buzzing around Kashruk and his remaining subordinate. Wizard or no, a Kundarak dwarf doesn't fall easily.

Reprise! [roll0] Lightning damage, half with a DC12 dex save.

[astragalos]

Shahaar cautiously moves up onto the stage as well, positioning herself behind the cajón drum. She fires another blast of magical energy at Kashruk's head, and the otherworldly kama aims itself at his throat. Keeper take your souls, she thinks, sensing victory within grasp.

Actions: Move to N11, cast another guiding bolt, attack with spiritual weapon again.

I just realized that I thought Shahaar had a 16 Wisdom, but she actually only has a 15, so her modifier for spell attacks should actually be +4 and her Spiritual Weapon damage modifier should be +2. Sorry. :smalleek:

Spiritual Weapon Attack: [roll0]
Force Damage: [roll1]
Duration: 7 more rounds

Guiding Bolt Attack: [roll2]
Radiant Damage: [roll3]

AC: 18
HP: 17/24
1st Lvl Spells: 3/4
2nd Lvl Spells: 1/2

[czieg]

As the lizardfolk falls under the weight of his strike, Tuulo reaches out and grabs the falling body for just a moment, a single claw'd finger piercing it's scales and tapping into the life energy within. Taking hold of that rapidly-fading energy, he pulls some small part of it into his own self, bolstering his body.

That done, Tuulo turns examines the other part of the fight going on, just in time to see the final blast of energy from Shahaar slam into Kashruk at the same time as the floating shadow-blade cuts deep into him, dropping him and leaving only one of the intruding lizardfolk left.

"Please put down your weapon, there is no need for more death than there already has been." Tuulo moves forward a few steps, doing his best to occupy the space the lizardfolk will have to pass through if he makes a break for it. His staff is held loosely in one hand, but if the lizardfolk tries to move past him, he will strike.

Persuasion: [roll0]

[esorscher]

Smirking at the response from the wait staff, Akshav turns her focus on the last remaining Blackscale. Sensing victory within their grasp, she transfers her curse to him, and sends a bolt of eldritch energy across the room toward him.

Bonus: Transfer Hex to Blackscale Thug in I8
Move: None
Attack: Eldritch Blast [roll0], [roll1]+[roll2] vs. Blackscale Thug in I8.

[WhismurWanders]

Indeed, Tuulo's senses are corret: the magical overload between Shahaar's and Sigrid's divine and arcane blasts threaten to tear the largest of the lizardfolk apart. He concentrates for a moment, his body vibrating as he struggles to maintain himself, eyes pouring out hatred towards the goblin and defiant dwarf. He roars at a seemingly impossible volume as shadows begin to coalesce around his form and pull him back together as quickly as the other spells seem to tear him apart. "I AM KASHRUK OF THE BLACKSCALE TRIBE! I AM A SERVANT AND DISCIPLE OF RHASHAAK, AND A GUARDIAN OF Q'BARRAN SECRETS! IF I WILL NOT BE AVENGED IN THIS LIFE, I WILL DEVOUR YOUR SOULS IN THE NEXT! I - I - I...!" His monologue breaks off as something seems to snatch away his consciousness, and the combined magical energies burn out through his eyes in an intense flash of light. As everyone's vision returns to normal, the lumbering bulk of Kashruk slumps to the floor, empty eye sockets and nostrils still smoking. The entire tavern goes silent for a moment, the sounds of glass shards falling and people whispering in awe fill the void of sound. The bartender pops his head up from behind the counter, notices the adventurers have the last lizardfolk pinned, and yells "And stay out!" with a suprising amount of bravado.

Akshav's magical attack flies wide and scorches the wood of one of the booths, and Tuulo's appearance by the last thug is enough to force him to surrender. He holds his hands up and kneels silently, apparently not fluent in Common to verbally surrender, but still able to recognize a lost battle. Whatever loyalties the lizardfolk has, apparently they aren't as highly valued as his own life.

Unless you guys want to kill him/knock him unconscious, we can end combat here.

[esorscher]

With the violence resolved, Akshav, steps out from behind the bar, removing the hempen rope from her backpack. "This one's value is the information he holds," she says, stepping toward the Blackscale. "Help me bind his arms and legs; we can question him," she pauses, looking around the room and thinking of her preferred questioning technique. "Privately. It may get a little... messy." As she begins tying up the prisoner, she whispers to him in Draconic, "<You seem to value your life. If you want to keep it, you will answer honestly and without concealing a single detail.>"

Dexterity for binding: [roll0]
Intimidate: [roll1]

[astragalos]

Shahaar savors the rush of victory--the adrenaline pumping in her veins that is the gift of the Fury, the cold satisfaction of outwitting her enemies that is the presence of the Mockery. As the adrenaline begins to wear off, however, she winces from the wound in her shoulder. She places a hand over the wound, and the magic of the Shadow begins to staunch the flow of blood. "Anyone else need healing?" she asks the other combatants, looking at the Vash and the dwarf in particular. She doesn't do charity, but they have just fought together and won, so she is feeling solidaristic.

Once wounds have been tended to, she looks over at Akshav's attempts to tie up the prisoner. "That looks a little loose, do you need any help?" She is curious to ask Akshav about the Blackscale tribe and the mysterious "Rhashaak," but not in front of the prisoner.

After the prisoner is securely bound, she leaves interrogation to Akshav, since the Q'barran native is best qualified both culturally and linguistically to communicate with the prisoner...and seems to have things well under control. She instead stoops down to examine the pistol still clutched in Kashruk's claws and to check if there is anything else of value on his body. She checks the other Blackscale corpses, too, though they seem less well equipped than their leader.


1. Cure Wounds for herself: [roll0]
HP: 24/24

For anyone else who wants it:

[roll1]
[roll2]

2. Help Akshav with tying up the prisoner, if that's something that two people can work together on.

3. Loot the bodies.

[WhismurWanders]

The combined efforts of Akshav and Shahaar are enough to bind the lizardfolk, at least for the moment. Although the lizardfolk doesn't struggle or resist, the knots are only adequately tied; there's no guarantee that he couldn't break free with considerable effort. Nonetheless, the thug coldly answers Akshav's initial threat, <"There is little to tell that you do not know. A Cold Sun follower does not appreciate the Blackscales and our divine position. To make us appear as fools, he would promise treasures from our temples to outsiders, likely in exchange for driving us off. We know he spoke to the Coppernail.">

Shahaar's examination of Kashruk and the other lizardfolk turns up with little. The other thugs carry only the tattered hides they wore as clothing, the small spears they used as weapons, and odd collections of tiny bones, rocks, and a few baubles made from glass beads. Kashruk himself was wearing slightly better leathers, but not enough to call armor. A golden armband in the shape of a snake coils around his left arm, and is probably worth quite a bit as an art piece, or jewelry. His sword is made from metal, but the blade is crooked and jagged, as if repeatedly broken and improperly repaired. The pistol he was holding is still warm to the touch, but has a suprisingly familiar appearance; a standard handheld gun that the rich often carry in self-defense. Certainly out of place and mismatched with the primitive weapons his companions were carrying. A small pouch holds what are likely personal belongings; a handful of bullets, some coins seen used by civilized Q'Barrans, and a few totems made of feathers and glass beads. The feathers are all black as night, and a small white rune has been painted on the ends of each one, but Shahaar doesn't recognize them from any language she knows.

[czieg]

Tuulo lets out a heavy breath he didn't fully realize he was holding once the final lizardfolk is secure. Looking around, it seems that the rest of the group had the room under control, so he instead moves to the front door and looks for any sign of the door guards. He'd noticed their disappearence just before everything had gotten bloody and didn't want to potentially leave someone to die when he could have helped them.

Perception Check?- [roll0]

[Inspector Valin]

Sigrid raises a hand to Shahaar, her breath a little short. "Please." After the healing spell is cast, the dwarf bows her head. "Thank you. You're not someone to trifle with in a fight." Sig winces, looking down at her torn and blood spattered shirt. A wave of her hand is enough to conjure the blood away at least, thank the Host. Danger done with for the moment, the Kundarak mage returns to the kitchen door: waving the seal upon it away with a brush of her hand.

"You can come out now, Mr. Coppernail. The fighting's over."

[esorscher]

Seeing the others looting the bodies, Akshav takes note of what they produce, and continues questioning the prisoner. "<How did you know where we would be meeting? And how did you acquire the firearm?>"

[bc56]

Vash catches her breath for a moment. She had not expected a fight, and she hadn't been prepared well. She even wore a white dress! It was going to take forever to get the bloodstains out! She sees Shahaar rifling through Kashruk's things. "Hey, save a cut of that for me." Then she goes to speak with Ostran, "Eventful night. Perhaps you could tell me what you did to get them to cause such a ruckus?"

[astragalos]

Sigrid raises a hand to Shahaar, her breath a little short. "Please." After the healing spell is cast, the dwarf bows her head. "Thank you. You're not someone to trifle with in a fight."

Shahaar makes good on her offer, placing her hand where the dwarf's ruffled shirt is stained with fresh blood. She speaks a few words in Goblin and the wound begins to heal itself. "Neither are you," she responds.

After searching the bodies, Shahaar slides the golden snake armband off of Kushruk's arm, looking at it covetously even though it is the size of a torc for her. She eyes Vash coolly, recognizing the Keeper's influence in the half-elf's comment, but she does place the pistol and armband in a pile to deal with later. She very carefully avoids touching the glass-and-feather tokens in Kushruk's belt pouch, but murmurs a quick prayer to the Shadow and is suddenly able to see any auras of magic present in the room. She looks at the tokens again with her new magically-sensitive vision.

Since no one else took her up on the offer of healing, Shahaar will use the 2nd level spell slot to heal Sigrid for 13 HP, then uses her last 1st level spell slot to cast detect magic.

1st Level Spell Slots: 0/4
2nd Level Spell Slots: 0/2

[WhismurWanders]

Tuulo lets out a heavy breath he didn't fully realize he was holding once the final lizardfolk is secure. Looking around, it seems that the rest of the group had the room under control, so he instead moves to the front door and looks for any sign of the door guards. He'd noticed their disappearence just before everything had gotten bloody and didn't want to potentially leave someone to die when he could have helped them.

As Tuulo moves to the entrance, he notices two things; the two mercenaries standing watch are slumped against each side of the swinging double-doors, and a small crowd which likely stopped to wonder what all the flashing colors and battle-sounds from within the tavern were about. Though the guards look beaten and bruised, the rising and falling of their chests and no serious wounds indicates they are alive, but will no doubt be embarassed when they awaken. As to the onlookers, some of them look expectantly at Tuulo, either waiting for an answer to an unasked question, or warily making sure the Tortle wasn't one of the aggressors now turning his focus elsewhere.

Inside, Shahaar's investigations into the magical nature of the lizardfolks' items turns up with nothing. The items are al as mundane as they come, even though she detects a lot of magical energy in the background permeating the entirety of the tavern at this point, still fading from the intense battle.


Seeing the others looting the bodies, Akshav takes note of what they produce, and continues questioning the prisoner. "<How did you know where we would be meeting? And how did you acquire the firearm?>"

<"The Coppernail did not exactly make it a secret. News traveled across the whole of the land, even farther than the mountains. Everyone with good hearing and reading-eyes knew Coppernail found something, and we wanted to know what he found. The temples of the jungles are ours to protect and keep, and we did not want to fight where it wasn't needed. The Coppernail did not wish to discuss, and fled here. We followed, and ... you know the rest."> He pauses a moment, his eyes drifting towards Kashruk's corpse. <"The fire-spitter? Kashruk did not kill for it, if that is your suspicion. Some Cold-Sun lizard offered it as tribute to Rhashaak, and Kashruk saw fit to use it properly. We do not know where the Cold-Sun obtained it.">


Danger done with for the moment, the Kundarak mage returns to the kitchen door: waving the seal upon it away with a brush of her hand.

"You can come out now, Mr. Coppernail. The fighting's over."

As Sigrid unlocks and opens the kitchen door, Ostran stumbles out, the previously full bottle he had pulled in with him now completely empty. He takes a moment to compose himself, bracing himself against the doorway and asks, "It's done? You scared those brutish scales away?" He looks around the room, not waiting for an answer, and notices the disarray and the three dead bodies of his former pursuers. His face drains of color and his pince-nez falls off his face in shock, but he doesn't withdraw. For the moment he ignores Vash's question, instead telling the two females, "I want you to gather everyone who fought, and come upstairs with me. I have a room there. You're all hired, no questions, I won't take no for an answer, and anyone who turns the offer down is a fool. A whole tavern full of prospective heroes, but I want the five who saved my neck. I owe you at least the chance to pay you for a job you're more than capable of." He cleans himself off and re-dons his pince-nez before finally answering Vash's initial inquiry. Sort of. "All will be explained. I thought I would be able to be more secretive than the evening proved, but I do have answers, I promise. Wait by Room 4, I'll be up shortly." With that, he places the empty bottle quietly back where he had retrieved it from, watching the bartender carefully as he does so. "I do think I owe the good proprietor an apology for this though..." With that, he walks over the bartender, and the two become quickly entangled in a discussion of damages and liability.

[esorscher]

Akshav turns to the group she had fought with. "This one," she gestures with her thumb. "Has little else to tell us. The treasure we seek is in a temple to Rhashaak, which the Blackscale claim ownership of. The advertisements that brought us here, brought them here as well." Looking around the room, she says, "I have no further questions for him, but if any of you do, ask them. Then, we must decide his fate." She steps away from the Lizardfolk to look at the gathered items more closely, and pockets one of the totems for herself.

[astragalos]

Away from the prisoner by the pile of loot, Shahaar asks Ashkav, "Who is this Rhashaak? A god? And what are these tokens? I can tell they're not cursed, at least."

She glances over to where Ostran stands conversing with Vash and the dwarf. "Looks like Coppernail has come out of hiding," she says with a slight sneer. Her time in Sharn where Daask and the Boromar Clan are feuding has not disposed her well to halflings in general, and Ostran's cowardice has not improved that impression. "We've shed blood for him already, I wonder what he has to say for himself?"

[Inspector Valin]

Sigrid nods to Ostran, wincing as she looks across the tavern. She takes a second to help patrons with restoring the place: righting tables, and using some simple charms to remove stains of blood or spilled liquor. There's only so much she can do, but best to remedy the situation as much as she's able prior to heading up to the second floor..

She spares a glance for the fallen Lizardfolk. They'd been the agressors here, there's no shame in defending yourself with lethal force, but anyone watching Sigrid could note her shudder. She's far from used to this.

[bc56]

Vash responds to Ostran's request by heading up to the room. She's curious what Ostran's up to, and definitely glad to be hired.

[astragalos]

As the dwarf helps clean up the tavern with magic, Shahaar approaches her and introduces herself, "I'm Shahaar. What did the halfling say?"

I don't think the rest of us heard Vash and Sigrid's conversation with Ostran?

[Inspector Valin]

Dang it, I messed up! Sorry, long day (as ever)

Sig takes a closer look at her new friend. Her eyes narrow at the sign around her neck; seeing the Hexagram worn so openly is a bizarre experience to say the least. But... well, such is life in Q'barra. And Shahaar had just healed her. The Six aren't a threat so long as you're faithful to the Sovereign Host, right? Right. A deep breath taken, Sigrid nods and offers the cleric her hand with a smile. "Sigrid d'Kundarak. A pleasure."

Shahaar's words prompt Sigrid: that's right, she should share what Ostran said with the group. She waves a hand at the turtle and smaller lizardfolk, checking to ensure everyone is listening before she continues. "We're all hired. He'll share his information on the second floor, in his private room. He claims only a fool would turn this opportunity down."

Sig places a hand to her side, chuckling ruefully. "If it pays for a new shirt, I'm willing to follow along for now. Especially if the three of you are all still interested. It'd be nice to have trustworthy people along for this."

[czieg]

Tuulo winces at the state of the two door guards. They'd merely been doing their jobs and those bruises looked painful. He'd try to treat their injuries, but he is lacking in the supplies necessary. Looking back to the crowd, he clears his throat projects his voice as best he can. "The lizardfolk have been dealt with and there is no more danger." Scanning the crowd, the tortle picks out two adults at random. "You sir, could you please go and get the guard? One of the lizardfolk have been captured and I'm sure they'd like to speak to him." He then turns to the second, "Could you go get someone to treat these two? They are in no immediate danger, but we should do our best to help them all the same."

Leaning back inside for a moment, Tuulo calls to the occupants of the tavern. "Does anyone have some medical supplies? These two could use some." He doesn't wait for a response, instead going outside again. He crouches down between the two door guards and begins helping them as best he can with what he has on him, identifying broken bones as best he can for when someone properly equipped shows up.

Persuasion: [roll0]
Medicine: [roll1]

[esorscher]

"You would call him that," Akshav says in response to Shahaar's question about Rhashaak. "He is the one all lizardfolk worship. The Blackscale claim a special relationship, however. It is the source of the power they pretend to have." Holding up the totem she had taken, she adds. "These are a mark of Rhashaak's favor; they are said to ward away evil spirits."

When Sigrid tells them of Coppernail's offer, Akshav nods, but waits to head upstairs until the captive is dealt with.

[astragalos]

Shahaar nods at Akshav's explanation. The minotaurs of Droaam worship a being they call the Horned Prince who sometimes seems to be similar to the Mockery and sometimes doesn't, so she is familiar with the phenomenon of local gods. "Will Rhashaak be angry if we go into His temple looking for treasure, or is that a lie that the Blackscales are telling?" she asks. "And will these tokens help with that?" If Akshav suggests that they might, she asks if it would be okay if she took one as well.

Shahaar ignores Tuulo's request for medical supplies. She doesn't carry any, since she is able to heal with the magic granted to her by the Six, but even if she did she wouldn't waste them on some strangers who couldn't hold their own in a fight.

When Sigrid offers her hand to shake, Shahaar accepts it. She notices Sigrid's eyes narrowing when they spot the Hexagram, and a knowing smile appears upon her face. A Kneeler, it would appear, and a dragonmarked heir. Not the company I expected on this expedition, but the Traveler has a strange sense of humor. She responds to the news that she has been hired and to Sigrid's inquiry if she'll accept the offer with a matter-of-fact observation, "We've already killed for this job. Might as well see it through, as long as we don't anger any Q'barran gods..."

[WhismurWanders]

At Tuulo's request, one of the men goes to find a nearby guardsman, and the crowd already begins to disperse, whispering and mumbling amongst themselves. There's little doubt that the night's events will be the talk of the city for a few days, with multiple incorrect versions floating around. Soon enough, two heavily armored soldiers approach, one of them with the insignia of House Deneith emblazoned on his pauldrons. It is the same soldier who adresses Tuulo, "We were told a disturber of the peace has been subdued. We'll take it from here lad, just bring us to him." Unless Tuulo or anyone else objects, the guardsmen collect the lizardfolk with little fuss. They untie him to return the rope, placing the compliant reptile in heavy shackles before marching him out between the two of them, with dignified cheering and applause coming fr the tavern patrons as they do so.

The two mercenaries at the door seem fine; simply knocked unconscious. Hearing Tuulo's request for medical supplies, a trio of halfling waiters come out to inspect the pair as well. One of them comes to a similar conclusion to Tuulo's. He comments, "Besides the bumps on their heads, I think the biggest wounds will be to their pride or their paycheck. Maybe both." Some of the other halflings chuckle at the jest before he continues, "We'll make sure nothing happens to them while they come to." With that and a quick snap of his fingers, he conjures a decently sized floating disc, and the three halflings get to work loading the half-orc and dwarf on top. Once secured, they gently push the disc inside and up the stairs, no doubt to find the unconscious fellows a pair of beds to rest in.

Vash, who is waiting upstairs, sees the halflings head into a separate room with their strange load, and after a few minutes, sees Ostran enter the one she's waiting by. "Just knock once you're all assembled," he says as he unlocks the door, steps into the room, and then quickly locks it again.

[bc56]

Vash goes back downstairs for a minute. "Hey, he's ready for us whenever you are. I'd like to get to the bottom of this, so could you please hurry up?"

[esorscher]

Akshav nods and heads upstairs to join the group. As she walks, she responds to Shahaar’s quedtion, “If it would anger him, would that stop you?”

[astragalos]

Shahaar follows Akshav up the stairs, bringing the armband and pistol with her to be collectively dealt with. She shrugs, "It's never wise to anger a god, especially unnecessarily, unless you have better protection on your side. I do walk with a lot of protection, though." Nonetheless, she does take one of the tokens as well.

[Inspector Valin]

Sigrid follows the group, though she takes a moment to look back at the common room. She ends up the last one upstairs.

[czieg]

Tuulo thanks the guards for their assistance, as well as the waiters who help with the unconscious guards. After helping load them up, he follows the floating disc inside, he follows the rest of the group up the stairs.

[WhismurWanders]

Once everyone has assembled and gathered in front of the door, there's a collective air of relief. The sounds downstairs slowly begin to fade back to people enjoying their evening as the musicians seems to have taken the stage again. One of you knocks on Ostran's door, and he shortly opens it and ushers you all inside.

The room itself isn't extravagant by any means, but all the walls are lined with all kinds of weapons and equipment. Various leather saddles in a multitude of shapes, four rifles leaning against a barrel simply labeled 'salt', enough bundles of rope to rig a small ship, a few pickaxes and shovels, and even more items hidden among the precarious stacks... It's difficult at a goance to ascertain whether the halfling is prepared for anything and everything, or simply bought a menagerie of items without much afterthought. The room has two beds, one of which contains an apparently sleeping lizardfolk, though the empty flask limply held in one hand implies a more insistent state of unconsciousness. Ostran approaches the bed and the lizardfolk, hurriedly snapping his fingers in a vain attempt to rouse the lizard. He grumbles, "I told the waiters he was only to be given food and water. Must've drunk himself to sleep." He sighs and runs one hand through his hair. "Qiakku's story will have to wait until later."

The halfling pulls out a large roll of paper and unfurls it on a large table in the middle of the room, inviting everyone to get a good look. All of you recognize it as a map of Q'Barra, though Akshav might find that several lizardfolk settlements haven't been marked or named. Ostran begins to explain, "Qiakku came to me with a curious story. Apparently, his tribe of scales has been subservient to another tribe of Blackscales living out here." He places his finger on a large expanse of the map simply labeled "Q'Barran Jungle". "According to him, the Blackscales have been demanding more and more tribute from Qiakku's people, and as it stands, there simply isn't enough to make the payment. However, he claims there's a lost temple full of relics and artifacts from bygone times close to their village. His proposition was that I would finance an expedition to the temple, and we would split up any treasures found inside. Qiakku keeps enough to 'pay off' the Blackscales, and I keep the rest to cover expenses; not to mention taking part in what could be the discovery of a lifetime. No one but the scales are allowed to set foot in those temples, so the chance to see one undisturbed, with little to no barriers to getting inside ... well, that's why you're here. Insurance that everything goes as planned and that we can take as much treasure as we can carry."

As Ostran speaks, there's a gleam in his eye. He's clearly excited to be on the ground floor of something so potentially groundbreaking, almost a zealous desire to become something of an explorer or historian. When he finishes, he takes off his pince-nez for a moment to clean the glasses against his shirt before saying, "If you're all agreed, we leave tonight. We'll take an airship I've chartered here in Newthrone to here..." His finger indicates a small town east of Adderport, but aimilarly located on the coast. "Teryth's Crossing. It's a small outpost town right on the edge of the jungles, and the closest known settlement to Qiakku's tribe's normal grounds. From there, we march into the jungle searching for this temple. Qiakku won't share its location with me, but I trust him to lead us there without issue. If anything, those thugs attacking me here tonight means that there really is something to all this." He pauses to make sure everyone is still listening before asking, "Any questions?"

[astragalos]

Tribute is the foundation of Droaam's political system, so it's quite familiar to Shahaar, but something about Ostran's story doesn't quite add up. "Why did this Qiakku come all this way to you rather than rounding up members of his own tribe?" she asks. "If these Blackscales already know about it, is the plan blown? And, of course, if we go ahead anyways, what's our cut?"

[roll0]

[czieg]

"This sort of expedition will lead us straight into the area the Blackscales want to defend the most, correct?" Tuulo scratches the underside of his chin with one claw. "If those that defend it are as zealous in their feelings as those lizardfolk downstairs, any attempt to investigate this temple and its relics will bring violent reactions." He looks towards the unconscious form in the cot. "It sounds to me as if his tribe has a lot to gain from an outside force weakening the Blackscales."

[esorscher]

"All who value freedom have a lot to gain from working against the Blackscales," Akshav says. "If what the thugs downstairs said is true, this man is of a tribe similar to my own, of a federation of tribes that long have languished under Blackscale rule. Some of us seek an end to that oppression." She pauses, considering what else has been said. "I too, anticipate violence--but together we seem a capable group, each with different strengths that complement one another well." She nods in agreement with Shahaar's question about their individual shares, adding, "Is there a specific artifact you seek?"

[bc56]

"Sounds fun. I'm in," Vash says. She's sure she can turn a profit selling these artifacts without much trouble; it seems most people would like to see the Blackscales taken down a peg.

[Inspector Valin]

The glint in Sigrid's eye is rather similar to Ostran's as she too looks over the map. The dwarf hums to herself, letting the other party members ask their questions before taking a deep breath and beginning her own.

"How're you set for provisions? What's the path to reach the temple like? Have you been to the temple before? Has Qiakku? How did you two meet? Have you done this thing before? You have to have done this sort of thing before, right? I mean, just look at all this!" She gestures around the room, more than a little awestruck by everything. A mountain of gold coins would've had less of an effect on Sigrid than all this. Clearly Ostran's a highly capable man. He knows what he's doing.

[WhismurWanders]

"Why did this Qiakku come all this way to you rather than rounding up members of his own tribe?" she asks. "If these Blackscales already know about it, is the plan blown? And, of course, if we go ahead anyways, what's our cut?"

"I frequent this tavern when time away from my business allowd, and poor Qiakku was telling his story to anyone who cared to pay for a round of drinks. This was a few weeks ago, of course; it took time to gather some information and get the flyers printed and distributed. As I understand it, the scales can be divided roughly into three groups, two of which are at odds here: the Cold Sun tribes, like Qiakku and our friend here," he says gesturing to Akshav. "And then the Blackscales, who tend to be larger and stronger than their Cold Sun cousins. I assume our purpose is to counter their brawn with our brains and superior weapons."

"I don't believe the Blackscales know the whereabouts of Qiakku's temple. Otherwise they wouldn't need to come all the way out here to antagonize me, they could set up more guards or patrols or what have you to stop us. Otherwise, I don't see how Qiakku's plan works, everything predicates on the Blackscales believing that Qiakku has something they don't own already. I might not be above removing treasures from a forgotten temple, but I'm not interested in smashing and grabbing from a well-guarded church like some barbarian."


"This sort of expedition will lead us straight into the area the Blackscales want to defend the most, correct?" Tuulo scratches the underside of his chin with one claw. "If those that defend it are as zealous in their feelings as those lizardfolk downstairs, any attempt to investigate this temple and its relics will bring violent reactions." He looks towards the unconscious form in the cot. "It sounds to me as if his tribe has a lot to gain from an outside force weakening the Blackscales."

"Savage zealotry won't be much help against determination and superior skill. If anything, I would expect they want to follow us to the temple to find its location."


"All who value freedom have a lot to gain from working against the Blackscales," Akshav says. "If what the thugs downstairs said is true, this man is of a tribe similar to my own, of a federation of tribes that long have languished under Blackscale rule. Some of us seek an end to that oppression." She pauses, considering what else has been said. "I too, anticipate violence--but together we seem a capable group, each with different strengths that complement one another well." She nods in agreement with Shahaar's question about their individual shares, adding, "Is there a specific artifact you seek?"

To this, and to Shahaar's question about the shares, Ostran answers, "Your shares come out of my own. So my half will be split up equally between the six of us. I have no idea what kinds of relics we will find, though I suppose if I were to make a wish list, a ring or a gemstone for such purpose would be a delightful prize for this endeavor."


"How're you set for provisions? What's the path to reach the temple like? Have you been to the temple before? Has Qiakku? How did you two meet? Have you done this thing before? You have to have done this sort of thing before, right? I mean, just look at all this!" She gestures around the room, more than a little awestruck by everything.

Some of Sigrid's questions have already been answered, so Ostran focuses on the thus unanswered. "I will purchase proper vittles and clean water in Teryth's Crossing, this is simply some of the equipment I heard would need to be purchased here. There is more on the airship, but there were some last-minute deliveries which I had sent here instead. As to having done this before ... truthfully I have not. But it is very exciting, isn't it? Aside from tonight's unfortunate interruption, it has been a lark to make all the preparations and meet such fascinating people as yourselves. The adventure of a lifetime, one could say!"


"Sounds fun. I'm in," Vash says. She's sure she can turn a profit selling these artifacts without much trouble; it seems most people would like to see the Blackscales taken down a peg.

Ostran claps both hands together excitedly and exclaims, "Yes! Wonderful! We simply must have a toast, I'll send for some drinks to mark the occasion with." He departs for a moment to place his order and returns quickly with a large bottle with a flowery golden label. "Fortunately my private bottle didn't get shaken up in the ruckus, so it should still be well and good." He begins to organize enough glasses for the group, and begins pouring glasses for each of you.

[astragalos]

"You're putting a lot of trust in this drunk," Shahaar points out bluntly, "But I've taken bigger risks before and survived." By the Keeper, she once helped out on a Daask mission that hinged on the ravings of a dragon's blood addict. She pointedly makes eye contact with the other mercenaries when Ostran steps out of the room to gauge their reactions to her statement, but when the halfling would-be-explorer returns, she accepts the glass that he pours her and holds it up for the toast. "To safe travels, and to finding hidden knowledge and wealth."

Meanwhile, she thinks about what Akshav said. The situation in Q'barra does seem superficially similar to that in Droaam in some ways, with the large Blackscales dominating the smaller lizardfolk. She doesn't think this crew of treasure hunters is any Daughters of Sora Kell who will come in from the outside and change things up (nor should they be), but judging by the bodies downstairs, she has already cast her lot in with the Cold Sun lizardfolk and against the Blackscales.

[esorscher]

Akshav raises her glass as well. “Let us be on our way, then,” she says, eager to be on their way.

[bc56]

Vash takes her glass and raises it for the toast. "To fame and fortune!" She drinks quickly afterwards. It's pretty good stuff, she reckons. "I can leave first thing in the morning."

[czieg]

Tuulo knocks back the single drink and will wave away any more offers of drink. The tortle mulls over what's said as he feels the vague burning spreading through his head a little. 'If nothing else, perhaps I'll find what I want as well.' After a moment, he nods. "Can we hide our trail somehow? If these Blackscales know of our objective, than we will need to move quickly."

[WhismurWanders]

"You're putting a lot of trust in this drunk," Shahaar points out bluntly, "But I've taken bigger risks before and survived."

Ostran nods grimly and replies, "I assure you he makes for a more convincing companion when he isn't three sheets to the wind. Hard drinks will do horrible things to anyone not accustomed to them."


Vash takes her glass and raises it for the toast. "To fame and fortune!" She drinks quickly afterwards. It's pretty good stuff, she reckons. "I can leave first thing in the morning."

"I'm afraid I must insist we leave tonight. If we sail through the night, we'll arrive much quicker at Teryth's Crossing and be able to set out earlier as well. Do you have another pressing errand which would prevent our departure?"


"Can we hide our trail somehow? If these Blackscales know of our objective, than we will need to move quickly."

"I'm not a professional woodsman, but I would assume it can be done."

[astragalos]

"I'm more concerned about him running his mouth about this temple full of treasure to anyone who would buy him a drink. Not exactly a well thought out plan, especially in a place like Newthrone," Shahaar says. "There's many here who would follow him to this temple and then stab him in the back. That's also assuming that he didn't make up the entire story to get some free drinks."

She shrugs, then adds, "But no matter, we'll see what we find out there, and as you saw downstairs, we can defend ourselves if there's any trouble. I'm ready to leave tonight, as long as I can get some rest on the airship."

[bc56]

"I would've liked to get a good night's sleep." and inform my fence Vash mentally adds, "But I can go tonight. I'll just need to gather my things."

[WhismurWanders]

Ostran shrugs and answers, "I promise you we won't have much to do once we've boarded the ship. You can all sleep through the night while we make the first leg of the journey, I've made all the proper arrangements." He looks over the equipment standing around the room, and then his gaze rests on Qiakku's unconscious form. "I don't suppose it would be too much to ask you to get Qiakku onto the ship as well? Our vessel is the Steady Pelican, you shouldn't be able to miss it. Otherwise, just ask around for Captain Henry Barlett. I will make sure that everything else reaches the ship, just make sure he's taken care of."

Ostran hands anyone willing to accept it a small piece of paper with a rough sketch on how to get to the docks from here. From the bed, Qiakku's form shifts slightly in unconscious sleep, and the bottle in his hand falls down to the floor and rolls around twice before stopping. It doesn't seem like he'll wake up any time soon, at least not without some outside influence.

[astragalos]

"Can we sell these in Teryth's Crossing?" Shahaar asks, holding up the vanquished Kashruk's golden armband and pistol.

Shahaar takes the makeshift map that shows how to get to the docks, then looks around for a pitcher of water to dump over Qiakku's head.

[bc56]

Vash looks at the lizardman's sleeping form. She raises her flute to her lips and blows a piercing trill. "Get up you drunken excuse for a reptile. We're shipping out tonight." Hopefully, that'll get him up; if not, someone can shake him awake or pour water on him.

[WhismurWanders]

Though Ostran winces at the shrill tone of Vash's flute, it only illicits a loud snore from Qiakku. Vash and Shahaar's quick search for water ends at a small copper basin kept on an endtable close to the beds. The water seems clean, and Ostran only raises an eyebrow as he intuits your plan, and steps away from what he deems to be the splash zone.

Dumping the basin's contents on the lizardfolk rouses him, and he curses slurredly in Draconic as he sits upright. He sputters and wipes his face somewhat dry with a cloth. His eyes are still unfocused as he looks around the room, and he speaks in broken Common, "The rivers ... the water of dreams ..." He's either delirious, still drunk, still waking up, or some combination of all three, but as he attempts to stand up it becomes clear that he's far from sober. He attempts to stand, but only wobbles back and forth on his feet before he sits back down. "Could have allowed the night's sleep..." he mumbles irately as he stops speaking pure nonsense. Ostran reapproaches and says, "You can sleep on the ship Qiakku. These fine folks will be escorting you, so try not to embarass us further." Qiakku only nods as he stands up again, leaning against one of the bedposts.

Ostran sighs and gestures to him, "I hope he won't be too much trouble. If you leave with him soon, I'll get my final preparations done and meet you at the docks."

[esorscher]

Seeing the drunkard roused, Akshav impatiently moves toward the door, ready for the party to depart this city. "Are there any last minute supplies we need to purchase?" she asks as they walk.

[astragalos]

Shahaar's pointed ears twitch at the shriek of Vash's flute. She performs the honors of dumping the water on the sleeping Qiakku. "Sorry about that," the goblin says to Qiakku as she sets down the copper basin and the drunken lizardman gets out of bed. "I'm Shahaar, by the way."

As they walk towards the airship, she replies to Akshav's question, "I can't think of anything. Seems like Ostran has supplies pretty well covered and we can get anything else we need in Teryth's Crossing."

[bc56]

"I'm ready to leave when the rest of you are." Vash starts to head towards the door. "Best not to keep the ship waiting."

[czieg]

"That seems as solid a plan as any. Let me help you there Mr. Qiakku. My name is Tuulo." The tortle offers one arm to the wobbly lizardman and begins to lead him out of the room.

[WhismurWanders]

Qiakku's stumbling gait forces him to rely on Tuulo to keep him steady and upright. The lizardfolk doesn't say much on the way to the docks, and the slightly pained expression on his face reflects his eagerness to fall back into a bed somewhere. The streets of Newthrone are quiet at this hour. Your group passes only a few others; one group of dwarves drunkenly singing and hollering their way through the dim light, a pair of watchmen idly patrolling the streets, and a pair of beggars completely wrapped up in rags as they try their best to sleep.

The path through the city begins to slope downwards towards the harbor and the docks, and those of you with keener eyes can see the outlines of various ships. High wooden masts and not-quite-inflated air balloons stand close to each other; a veritable fleet of trade ships, personal boats, and a handful impressive looking battle-ready vessels are known to frequent Newthrone for whatever reason. As you approach, consulting the map reveals that Ostran didn't leave any more specific instructions as to where his chartered vessel might be located; just where to find the docks. However, the group of dockhands sitting around and smoking would be as good a place as any to ask. Maybe.

[astragalos]

Shahaar looks around as they reach the docks. Coppernail had said they "shouldn't be able to miss" the Steady Pelican, but she has no idea which ship it is. His instructions were clear as Shadow, she thinks, frustrated.

"This map doesn't say where the ship is. Lady d'Kundarak, Vash, would one of you like to do the talking?" she asks her new temple-raiding companions. "I have a feeling this lot doesn't care much for goblins or 'scales.'"

[bc56]

"Can any of you tell me where to find the Steady Pelican?" Vash asks the dockworkers. Hopefully, they're willing to give the information away. If not, she's sure there'll be some way to persuade them.

[czieg]

Tuulo keeps one arm out and supporting Qiakku, the other clawed hand holding his staff. He nods at Shahaar's judgment that the goblin, the lizardfolk and himself were not the best suited for negotiating here. Instead, he thinks back to his brief time helping his father with the fishing boat as he glances around the docks, trying to get a better sense of who is in charge, who is supposed to be there, and who might be looking to start some trouble.

Perception: [roll0]

[WhismurWanders]

The dockworkers look up from their idle smoking and conversation as Vash approaches to ask them the question. While they quickly turn their attentions to a beautiful half-elf woman like herself asking for their assistance, they don't make eye contact with the two lizardfolk. One of them, a goblin with a pipe lolling from the corner of his mouth as he speaks, answers, "The Pelican? Oof, that's all kinds of trouble right now, but ..." He turns around to point down towards an airship with a balloon black as the night sky; no wonder it was difficult to spot. "Well, let's just hope the captain's finally got their troubles with House Lyrandar. Hoity-toity d'House nobles always give me the creeps." The rest of the group nods in agreement, and the muttering of, "Damn taskmasters" can be heard, though it's difficult to tell who said it.

Tuulo's wary eyes don't reveal much; the dock space the two groups are currently occupying is full of barrels and crates. The docks don't seem to be a popular destination at night. A brief look at the group reveals six humanoids, three half-elves, the aforementioned goblin, and two dwarves. They're all dressed plainly in dockworker's garb: tight-fitting clothing that keeps sweat from clinging to the body for long.

[esorscher]

Akshav nods her appreciation, and heads in the direction of the identified airship. While curious about what House Lyrander might be, she doesn't voice her question, afraid to betray her ignorance of the softskin culture.

[astragalos]

"What's going on with Lyrandar?" Shahaar asks the goblin in the group, intrigued.

[WhismurWanders]

The goblin confides, "They've got quite the handle on most of the shipping lanes here. Orien's rails haven't made it through the mountains, and the jungles aren't well-traveled enough for anything more lucrative than messengers and couriers on foot. The captain of the Pelican though, she doesn't want to play by House rules. Wants to fly her own flag, not pay her guild fees. Last thing Lyrandar wants is someone undercutting their prices, but she's got the Mark to do it."

[astragalos]

Shahaar glances briefly at Sigrid d'Kundarak, who has been extremely quiet ever since the tavern. "You think House Lyrandar might try to sabotage or attack the Pelican?" she asks the goblin dockworker. If there's any possible threat, best to learn of it now and not several hundred feet up in the air.

Personally, she's wary of the power the Dragonmarked Houses have in Khorvaire, like Tharashk has in Droaam. She's amused that there are some people who are challenging them, but also expects that the response will be ruthless. The powerful and wealthy usually are. That's how they got their power and wealth in the first place, after all.

[WhismurWanders]

The goblin shakes his head. "No chance. They might be uptight nobles with too much money, but they aren't murderers."

[esorscher]

"Well, let's get on with it," Akshav says as impatiently as her name might suggest. She heads off in the direction of the airship, with intent to board it once she reaches it.

[astragalos]

Shahaar laughs. "They're soft then," she remarks, following Akshav towards the Steady Pelican. Shahaar sees and assumes that the Six are the true dominant powers everywhere she goes, so sometimes she forgets that people do in fact follow the timid precepts of Aureon or lean more towards Kol Korran than towards the Keeper. Droaam and Daask aren't actually perfect microcosms of the rest of Khorvaire, either.

[bc56]

"Thanks for your help." Vash nods to the dockhands and follows after the others towards the Pelican.

[czieg]

Tuulo follows, pulling along the wobbly lizardfolk if need be. "Miss Shahaar, I've been meaning to ask, what is the significance of your necklace?" The tortle's tone is curious, with an undertone of what seems to be fascination at someone openly wearing a symbol of the Six.

[astragalos]

"It's the Hexagram of the Dark Six," Shahaar replies to Tuulo. "In Droaam, we thank Them for giving us strength and cunning, just as you worship Boldrei and the Nine here in the rest of Khorvaire." Aware that the tortle wears a symbol of Boldrei around his own neck, she diplomatically tries to emphasize the similarities between their faiths.

[WhismurWanders]

The path towards the Pelican is easy enough, now that it had been pointed out to you. The dockhands went back to their conversations as you had left, returning to murmurs about the weather, unfair wages, and the like. Qiakku has sobered up enough that he isn't leaning on Tuulo anymore, though his pace is slow (and unsteady) enough that you kep an eye on him nonetheless. He moans about being able to reach a bed soon when you arrive at your destination.

Turning a corner and walking down some steps, you approach the gangway to the large airship when you can hear some shouting. A male voice can be heard shouting, "If you think you can keep me grounded on some flimsy repairs, you've got another think coming! Lyrandar bastards won't keep me on the ground, not when I've got a contract to fulfill." A male half-elf with a bald head and wearing a dress uniform with slightly tattered gold trimmings is berating two other half-elves dressed in House Lyrandar garb who are standing with pikes between him and the ship's entrance. One of them calmly replies, "As soon as a mechanic looks at your ship in the morning, you'll be cleared to fly. Not a moment sooner, Captain Barlett." The half-elf, presumably the aforementioned captain, turns around and curses under his breath, and at this moment sees your group approaching. He turns back around and flings a few choice curses in Elvish towards the two guards and says, "Well if you can explain it to my passengers, then we'll see how far you and your Lyrandar lies get you!"

He addresses the group now with a sigh, "Folks, I don't know what to tell you and Master Coppernail, but the Pelican hasn't been cleared for take-off. Something about 'faulty mechanisms' those d'Lyrandar lunatics are using to keep me from taking you up." His hands are still balled into fists, but the resignation in his voice is quite clear; he's not sure how to get past the two of them.

[czieg]

"It's the Hexagram of the Dark Six," Shahaar replies to Tuulo. "In Droaam, we thank Them for giving us strength and cunning, just as you worship Boldrei and the Nine here in the rest of Khorvaire." Aware that the tortle wears a symbol of Boldrei around his own neck, she diplomatically tries to emphasize the similarities between their faiths.

"I see, I can understand wanting to show your thanks for such gifts. I admit, I am not very well-traveled and Droaam is something of a mystery to me." He nods, realizing Shahaar's attempts to keep things civil where religious discussions could often get heated between devout followers of specific gods. "I've spent much of my life serving with a group of monks, helping people in Boldrei's name."

Tuulo frowns at the blockage for a moment, considering their predicament. Here were two guards that were doing their jobs, but blocking the group from doing their own work and he doesn't want to hurt them. "Well, it seems like we'll be here some time then my good fellows." The tortle lets out a heavy sigh, then hands Qiakku his quarterstaff. "Hold onto this for me please, I'm going to just be a moment." He turns to the rest of his companions and the arguing half-elves. "I don't know about you, but I don't much feel like sitting out here without something to drink, how about you all?" Without waiting for a response Tuulo turns and heads to go find another tavern and buy two bottles of wine.

[esorscher]

"I am not one for conversation," Akshav says. "But perhaps we could convince them to let us board." She punches her fist into her palm to emphasize her point.

[astragalos]

"Let's try talking first," Shahaar says to Akshav, though in a tone that suggests that she has no problem with Akshav's proposed plan.

Shahaar knows how her old enemies in the Boromar Clan would handle wannabe tough guys from the Dragonmarked Houses. The Dragonmarked understand only one language, the bottom line. "Nice docks you got here," she says to one of the Lyrandar half-elves. "It'd be a real shame if your workers got tired of their low wages and something happened to 'em. A real shame."

Use Channel Divinity (Knowledge of the Ages) to gain proficiency in Intimidate for 10 minutes.

Intimidate: [roll0]

[WhismurWanders]

Tuulo begins to wander off in search of a tavern, but he doesn't recall having seen one recently. Perhaps the helpful dockhands could spare a bottle or know where he could buy one at this hour.

Shahaar's threat certainly leaves an impression on the pair of half-elves. They both warily point their pikes defensively at Shahaar, and one tersely asks, "Are you openly threatening an agent of Lyrandar while he does his House-imposed duty? Tell me why we shouldn't just impale you on the spot, goblin." They both, however, back up slightly, back and away from the ship's loading ramp as they notice how outnumbered they are if your friends decide to help you if/when a fight breaks loose.

[astragalos]

"Threatening you? Hardly." Shahaar scoffs contemptuously at the scared Khoravar, ignoring the pikes pointed at her, then speaks to her companions. "Well, if we can't get on the airship tonight, then our turtle friend has the right idea. Let's go buy some drinks for our working class comrades."

[esorscher]

Akshav walks away with the others, shaking her head. "You give in too easily. If they will not let us pass, we must go around them," She begins, pausing to ensure everyone is listening to her before emphasizing, "Sneakily. There must be a way to board that ship, and depart, without their knowledge. Don't forget, we are not the only ones seeking the treasure. Every second's delay could cost us."

[czieg]

Tuulo frowns at the lack of any taverns nearby, sailors loved their drinks so he'd expected a tavern relatively close at hand. But of course, if there wasn't one in the immediate vicinity the dockhands would know where to look. He walks over to the group and waves as he does.

"It seems you all were correct, some guards have no intention of letting us on that ship tonight." He lets out an annoyed sigh, then shrugs. "I was hoping to pass the night with some drinks, I don't suppose any of you know where I could get some at this hour?"

[astragalos]

Shahaar doesn't walk away quite yet, waiting to see if her words convince the Lyrandar guards that letting them onto the Steady Pelican will be less trouble than allowing Shahaar and the others to potentially stir up labor unrest among the dockworkers.

She notices Akshav's impatience and guesses that Khorvairan society is too unfamiliar to the lizardfolk for her to pick up on the subtext of the conversation. She can relate: when she first immigrated from Droaam to Sharn, she didn't know how the Dragonmarked Houses worked either.

[WhismurWanders]

The goblin shakes his head and swears under his breath before speaking, "Some guards? Don't tell me those Lyrandar loons have started sending goons with weapons to our docks... Last thing we need is a bunch of uptight elves with weapons thinking they own the place." He takes a deep breath to calm himself down amongst more grumbling from his companions before answering Tuulo's other question. "If you can settle for a bottle of rotgut to commiserate with, I think we could spare something from our stash." The dwarf from the group walks off to a crate somewhere and returns with an earthenware jug with the initials DDTF etched into the surface where the label on a glass bottle would be. He pops the cork off and gives the opening a sniff before flinching and squinting his nose and eyes. "Yep, still good." He holds it out to Tuulo, allowing him to inspect it if he wishes.

As the others appear, the goblin waves for them to come over. Some of the dockworkers have pulled up more crates and barrels as improptu stools and chairs so that everyone can sit. "So tell us, what brings an eclectic group like you out here this time of night anyways? Ain't often we get people askin' around about stuff."

[astragalos]

Let it be on their heads, Shahaar thinks angrily as the Lyrandar guards continue to point their pikes at her. She leaves with the others. "Care to join us, Captain Barlett?" she asks the renegade half-elf.

As they walk down the dock, she voices agreement with Akshav. "Traveler willing, let's find a way to sneak on board tonight. Anyone seen Ostran?"

Regardless of whether they come up with a plan or not, they have to fetch Tuulo anyways, so Shahaar does take a moment to drink and chat with the dockworkers. "Got business early in the morning tomorrow. But the Lyrandars won't let us board. Seems like those bastards have been working you to the bone here, too." She tries to appeal to their shared resentment of the Lyrandar bosses, perhaps it will make them more likely to help her and her crew.

Persuasion to establish rapport with the dockworkers: [roll0]

[czieg]

Tuulo takes the bottle and gives it a sniff and coughs a bit at the power. "Well, this certainly deserves the name." He looks at the initials on the bottle, cocking an eyebrow. "DDTF?"

"Seems nonsense to me that some guards have the right to keep a man from his ship, even those of a House. The Lyrandar have all they need, it's a shame they'd take more." Tuulo is somewhat ambivalent towards the Dragonmarked Houses, but he also knows how people can resent those above. "My father is a fisherman up the coast and he'd crack his shell over the head of anyone that told him he couldn't sail out in his own boat."

I want to help Sharaar get the general sympathies of the dock workers. If I can't give them advantage since they already rolled, then I'll roll in OOC.

[WhismurWanders]

Captain Barlett walks with you, but doesn't join the social circle initially. He keeps grumbling under his breath until Shahaar asks about Ostran. "Master Coppernail? Haven't seen him yet, but I'm sure he'll be cross when he finds out we can't get out of here." He reaches for a flask from inside his own jacket and takes a quick nip from it before stowing it back in its hiding place. "Don't know that he'll have the clout to dissuade the House though. Even money only gets you so far with those types." The foreman agrees and seems to get a bit restless with all the griping and grumbling going around. "Yeah, but what're you gonna do? Last thing any of us want is to lose our jobs. Even if we do outnumber the suckers by a large margin."

The dwarf chuckles at Tuulo's appropriate reaction. "Ain't a name, it's a warning label. 'Don't Drink Too Fast'. At least try some. It'll put hair on yer chest." He pauses for a moment as he realizes he's speaking with a Tortle, and embarassedly adds, "Well, it'll make your shell a bit thicker."

[bc56]

Vash nods along with the conversation. They are in a bit of a pickle, aren't they. Luckily, she has an idea. She reaches for the bottle. "Pass me that. I think I have a plan."


How many guards are watching the ship?

[WhismurWanders]

Vash recalls having seen only two guards.

[bc56]

Vash leans close for a conspiratorial whisper. "When Coppernail gets here, I can use my magic to make them a bit friendlier. Then maybe we can convince them to let us all on board under some pretense."

[esorscher]

Akshav crosses her arms over her chest, skeptical at this unusual approach. Diplomacy, where she came from, typically involved more aggressive behavior. However, she defers to the smoothskins, and their familiarity with their own cultures.

[WhismurWanders]

As you all discuss the way to move forward, drinks are shared (the dockworkers bring out a skin of much friendlier and tasty wine that everyone may sip from) and the conversation continues to heat up the impassioned workers. Captain Bartlett also seems to loosen up, though he only drinks from the flask hidden in his jacket, refusing any other drinks offered to him. The conversation tends to mostly stay on the topic of the tyranny of House Lyrandar, and whether or not trying to break their monopoly on air travel and transportation would be a good idea. This carries on for several minutes, but the passage of time is barely noticeable as the everbright lanterns keep the dock plainly lit.

Some huffing and puffing alongside some rapidly approaching heavy steps alert you to Ostran's arrival, along with a sturdy looking warforged carrying a small stack of crates. The halfling passes you initially, but speaks up after a confused double take. "Captain Bartlett? My crew? What's going on here? We need to set sail immediately!"

[bc56]

"About that," Vash points out, "Those Lyrandar jerks aren't letting us board."

[esorscher]

Akshav shifts her weight impatiently, looking at the gnome for guidance. "There are more of us than there are of them. We do not need to listen to their words."