Beyond the City of Thieves IC

[Kaptin Keen]

'Just people' is exactly what I'd pretend to be if I was sneaking up on someone to stab them in the back. Or, well, I mean - if I ever snuck up on anyone, or stabbed anyone in the back - then that's how I'd do it.

He turns to Moll:

There are several things you need to explain in greater detail. What was the deal? What did Bone take from the urn? Why did you back out? What do you know about Therin?

Now, there's hope to be had in the fact that you're likely beneath the notice of one such as Bone - on the other hand, he could propably kill the lot of you with but a handwave, then bind your souls for some terrible purpose, simply because that's what he does.

But .. we can and will help, if you tell us truthfully what you know.

[Woggle]

Moll nods in acknowledgement toward Rosa, adding a "Nosy buggers!" under her breath. She shoots a look to Rodrick and Aleyn. Aleyn remains quiet and subdued, while Rodrick simply offers a grunt of agreement as the burly man finishes making a makeshift bandage for his arm.

Moll, having taken on the roll of spokeswoman for the trio, looks to Borgrim and listens carefully to his questions.

"The deal was to recover the urn, intact and unopened, as well as any maps, ast-ro-logic charts, and notes we could find. We decided to screw the deal when Chester had his leg taken off by some devil-spell, and we ran into that blasted grey-skinned sort what turned halfway into a crow. Bone's man never said anything about that, and we'd asked whether there was anything dangerous to look out for before we accepted. We ain't complete fools. We thought we might be able to get a bit more for the urn selling it than handing it over, and we kinda wanted to spite the bastard at the same time." Moll pauses to take a breath, and listens for a moment or two for any sounds coming up from below.

Outside, César and the corvex watch from their shadowed vantage point as the three figures in the courtyard confer amongst themselves for a word or two. They appear to reach some consensus. One lights a small hooded lantern, and then three walk slowly toward the east side of the house, likely heading for a street-level entrance. Moving from his spy-point might risk discovery, so César remains still for a moment as they near.

Inside, Moll continues. "Inside the urn were a couple of bones, looked like they could be human to me, and bits of leather or something like it. A few of the pieces looked like they had markings on them, like runes or sumthin'. Didn't pay much attention to them, since we were busy sellin' the urn itself. When Bone appeared that night, he took the bones and leather patches, and the few charts we'd found."

"Therin? He's an odd sort, even for a gnome, but he's been reliable the couple times we've had goods to fence to 'im. Likes curios and anti-qui-ties, weird, old stuff. But he's also got an eye for fine silverware and the like. Don't really know much else about him, keeps his nose clean, and never asks any questions. Good qualities in a fence."

Below, César watches as the three move out of sight, close to the east side of the building. A second or two later, a loud knocking can be heard coming up from the street level.

"You say there's somewhere we'd be safe from t'curse?" Moll dares to look just a little hopeful.

[WalkingTheShade]

When she tells about Therin, Rosa nods in acknowledgement toward Moll, adding a "Creepy buggers!" under her breath.

"We know a priest, Furtha he's called. He'll at least meet and listen if you say Rosa and Borgrim sent you. Then, you will need to convince him, but please, no roughing him up. Try to come up with a price he doesn't like but agrees to. You might need to," Rosa coughs, "acquire some of the components he requires to lower his price. He should be able to conjure a magic circle that'll actually do something. He's at the temple of Ath'ar. If you get into business, leave him a message for us, where we can reach you again. Might have need of your skills one day."

Rosa is lost in thought for a moment. "Really, as long as you're 'acquiring' things from well-off merchants and nobles or other thieves, I don't see a problem. If you ever start targeting ordinary decent working folk, be sure I'll come for you. And you, Aleyn?"

Rosa marks a beat to be certain she's got the youth's full attention. "When the dust settle, go find another trade to apprentice yourself into. Tavernkeep or fishmonger or silversmith or cobbler or whatever, really."

All the while, Rosa has been stuffing her pipe. She finally lights it and takes her first drag, hoping to see Bone somewhere around.

Spoiler: OOC

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Stay out of the Noose, kids.

Rosa is a family friendly hero who knows her ethics and morals.

[iTookUrNick]

"They're caw-ming up?" croaks the raven "Caw-me out?"
As for himself, César spies inside the room, ready to start blasting.

[Woggle]

"Furtha. Got it." Moll moves over toward the trapdoor behind where Aleyn sits, standing above it and listening to the sounds coming from below.

Aleyn looks sheepish. "I-I- I guess I'can go back to Ma's... she can al-always use help with the shop..." Aleyn looks down at his tunic and picks a bit of fluff from it, avoiding the others' gazes.

Rodrick grunts, "Hmmf! I'm sure she'll b'pleased t'see ya. Might give yer ears a boxin', but just remember it'll be from the heart. You'll be alright."

As the raven flutters in with its warning, followed shortly by César, Rosa takes a long draw from the pipe and the room fades from her vision.

******

Rosa ignores the prominent scents of Moll and Rodrick, hints of cheap perfume and herbs mixed with sweat and oils, to sift deeper through the layers. She catches a whiff of something decaying, rotting, repulsively sweet, but can't put her finger on it. A moment later she latches on to Bones now familiar smell: dry, dusty, bones suffused with magical overtones. She concentrates, and the smoke about her begins to form into shapes. They resolve into the shadowy forms of Moll and Rodrick, at one side of the room, and Bone and (presumably) his servant on the other, the latter being draped in a long, tattered cloak and cowl hiding all of its features.

She hears Bone's clattering speech echo from a great distance: "... all that was in the urn? Where is the rest, hmm? No, you've not been foolish enough to hide it away. No matter. Take what is mine." Bone points imperiously, his servant following the gesture and gathering up some indistinct objects from beside Moll and Rodrick. "Now, I'm afraid you will die. Before the next full moon, I will return. Do not fret, it will be painless. I suggest you make your peace with your fate. I--" Bone pauses, his cowled head twisting as if searching for something. Rosa hears a snuffling sound, and Bone's head turns to face her. The deep, empty eye sockets of his skull seem to bore into her. "Ah, our watcher has returned. I bid you adieu." This last seems addressed to Moll and Rodrick, but Bone's gaze remains locked on where Rosa would be standing.

Bone gestures to his servant. The creature steps to the window and floats outward. Bone then raises his left hand. He twists his elongated, demonically deformed fingers in an arcane gesture, and before Rosa can react (her normally cat-like reflexes dulled by the pipe smoke) a searing pain explodes within her forehead.

******

Rosa recoils backward in pain, the pipe-vision wrenched away as she returns to the waking world. Moll, Rodrick and Aleyn look to her in mild panic.

From below, the sounds of tramping feet walking up a staircase can be heard.

Spoiler: OOC

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Rosa must make a DC 13 Wisdom saving throw, or take psychic damage. A success reduces the damage to half.

PhantasmalBurst - (4d6)[12] Psychic damage, save for half.

[WalkingTheShade]

In her pipeweed induced dream, Rosa raises her hand in salute and nearly says hi to Bone before being subjected of his spell.

She grits her teeth, refusing to let out any sound. "Sh!t, Borgrim, that here was some foul sorcery from Bone and it hurts. He was here, alright, they're telling the truth,"

Blood drips from Rosa's nose as she approaches the window and empties her pipe-bowl outside. "We'd better be on our way."

Lest denizens of the Noose start calling you Runny Nose instead of Bloody Rose, mocks the Joker in Rosa's ear.

Spoiler: OOC

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Did Rosa catch the henchman's smell?

Can we get back to César through the window easily?

[Woggle]

The noise of tramping steps grows louder from below. A few muffled, indistinct voices can be heard, and then a sharp rap! rap! sounds from the trap door.

An even, slightly bored woman's voice calls out: "Alright, Moll, Rodrick, is all well up there? We'd like to make a quick check, so come on and open up, now."

Moll and Rodrick raise fingers to their mouths indicating silence, and wave at Rosa and Borgrim to make their exit through the window. "We can take care of this. We'll go see Furtha first thing," Moll whispers. Aleyn slowly gets to his feet and settles back down on a bedroll, drawing his knees up to his chin.

"Alright, hold yer horses, mousers, we'll let you up in a moment. Not sure what you've got to be checking on, thought... " Moll grumbles toward the trap door.

Spoiler: OOC

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The decaying sweetness smell was that of the henchman.

The edge of the roof opposite the window is slightly lower than the window ledge, so it would be inconsequential getting back to César. Just a ~4 foot hop. It's dry, so no risk of slipping.

[iTookUrNick]

Cèsar moves towards the window, ready to steady anyone faltering after hopping away.

[Kaptin Keen]

Deep furrows line Borgrim's face. He seems to come to a decision, and kneels besides Aleyn briefly:

Look, you're clearly not cut out for this line of work. Come with us. It's a tiny jump to the other roof - come with us, we'll take you out of this ****hole, and ... well, I'll explain to some master in town that he can either take you as an apprentice, get a worker and a pile of my gold - or I'll burn his business to cinders and leave him with nothing. Come on, up you go.

Then he exits the window, back to César. If need be, he'll toss the young man first.

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa doesn't wait for Borgrim. She's already out the window and joins up with César.

She dismisses the corvex. "Thanks for your help. Nothing much new, but we may have a workable lead. You can go back to your pack, sorry, murder leader. (Murder is the correct appelation for a group of crows, right?) I now need to confer with my associate, about our business. We'll contact you as discussed, later, if needed."

She waits for the corvex to be on his way and keeps her voice low. "Just common burglars. They got hired by Bone to retrieve a number of items from Nicodemus' house. Among them, a funerary urn containing what I believe to be Bone's mortal remains. I guess Nicodemus held on to them. I can't believe it was a just an innocuous nostalgic memento."

Rosa looks distraught by what she intends to add. "So either Nicodemus has turned very forgetful in his old age, or he's been keeping something important from us. Bone managed to retrieve the urn's contents, but the urn itself has been sold to a fence by the burglars. Examining it may yield information regarding the nature of its contents."

[iTookUrNick]

“Or it might be a dead end costing us precious time before the festival” comments Cèsar, raven back on his shoulder “However, that does put a damper on your theory about them being the same person, doesn’t it?”

[Kaptin Keen]

Hm? No.

I hope I didn't give you impression that I think they've always been the same person. No no, Bones soul somehow found a way to hide - in Nikodemus. So, basically: Bone was alive, they killed him. Then he was undead, they killed him again. Then, perhaps right before he died, he cast a curse of some sort on .. that third foul sorceress .. and in fighting that curse, trying to save his friend, Nikodemus accidentally opened his mind to Bone, who thus found a way to hide in there. And be active whenever Nikodemus sleeps.

Yup. Pretty sure that's how it works.

[Woggle]

Aleyn looks up in bewilderment, mouth agape. Moll gives the lad a silent shrug when he looks her way. Perhaps it's Borgrim's imposing physic that convinces Aleyn to follow. Or maybe it's the stories he's heard of The Bloody Rose. Or maybe the lad just wanted to traipse across the rooftops? Whatever the reason, Aleyn hops up onto the window frame and over to the neighbouring rooftop after Borgrim. César puts out a steadying hand as the lad slips ever so slightly on a loose shingle, and the party is off into the night. His errand finished, the corvex wishes "Good hunting," and heads north over the roofs, out of sight.

Borgrim, Rosa, and César head back west toward Singing Avenue, leaving Moll and Rodrick to their explanation of the destroyed shutter. Aleyn follows closely along in silence, simply content to enjoy the night air. Such enjoyment is short lived.

The trio and young ward are just about to make their decent off the roof to Singing Avenue below when a blackness, nearly silent, swoops out of the night seemingly from nowhere. Borgim and César have no time to react as the cloaked shape grasps at Rosa with a withered, outstretched hand, and thrusts at her with a blackened blade half-hidden by the creature's garment. Rosa barely manages to twist away from the clutching hand and sword thrust, perhaps warned by the recently familiar scent of sickly sweet decay which now invades her nostrils. She acts immediately.

The creature, humanoid in shape, glares at Rosa with faintly glowing eyes from beneath its hood. Its withered face was likely once human, or perhaps elven, but no more. Its dead skin is stretched and deformed over its skull, and it hisses in hatred from between desiccated lips. It readies itself once more to attack.

Spoiler: OOC

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Bone's "man" servant: INITIATIVE - (1d20+2)[4]

The creature's rolls are HERE. It beat all three Two of your passive Perceptions, so all three two of you were surprised for the first round of combat. Roll Initiative for the second round. [b]EDIT[/i]: Rosa has the Alert feat, so cannot be surprised. My mistake!

I assume Borgrim and César are both roughly 10 feet from Rosa, and Rosa is ~5 or 10 feet from the roof's edge, overlooking Singing Avenue. Aleyn would be slightly further away.

[Kaptin Keen]

Aleyn - get back!

Cold moonlight flashes on Borgrim's sword as it whirles off his shoulder, and keens as he swings it at the apparition.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Initiative: (1d20+1)[6]

Activate Rage, activate Frenzy, activate Reckless Attack.
Attack: (1d20+6)[24] or (1d20+1)[15]
Damage: (2d6+6)[14]

Bonus action, extra attack: (1d20+6)[13] or (1d20+1)[3]
Damage: (2d6+6)[12]

[iTookUrNick]

Spoiler: Rolls

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Initiative - (1d20+3)[5]
Cast Bless for the 3 of us.
WildMagic - (1d20)[13] and regain the use of Tides of Chaos.

"Holy Powers That Be!" cusses César under his breath. He makes a warding gesture with his right hand while holding to his amulet with the other. "Well, Raven Queen, if you actually exist and are watching us with benevolence, please ɮʟɛֆֆ us to safety in this time of need."
He feels the power taking shape, though he is unsure if that is going to come out well enough. Hopefully using the right name for his miseries benefactor will help.

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa was only half surprised to see Aleyn come out of the window, dragging his feet on those roof tiles. "In hindsight, I don't believe we're such a better example to follow than Moll's crew. More colorful, perhaps..." she grumbles to her cat, who comes to rub against her legs. She gives Mao a scratch behind the ear.

Later Rosa is maybe three-quarter suprised when Mao suddenly stops and turns to her, refracted moonlight on the cat's pupils reminding Rosa of the familiar's otherwordly nature. Both rogue and cat's nostril twitch as a scent is caught and a feeling is shared. Rosa's first instinct is to go for her weapon. No, girl, better let the miscreant reveal himself first, silently hints the Master.

And thus, Rosa is not at all surprised as Bone's minion takes his shot at her. She evades effortlessly, putting enough distance to draw her sword. The ruby on the blade glows as she recitates, "خنده شرم آور تاشا".

Without losing a beat, she slashes with her sword, going for a debilitating rather than a killing strike.

Spoiler: OOC

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First round, casting Tasha's Hideous Laughter, DC 13, hoping that becoming half-undead doens't necessarily kill 100% of one's sense of humor.

Second round: Can Rosa try to disarm quarter-elf-quarter-human-half-dead guy? If not, use that roll to hit it with the pointy end:
Attack - (1d20+6)[20] (+Bless - (1d4)[4], unsure if César's buff is resolve before that)
Damage - (1d4+4)[7]
Sneak attack - (1d6)[5] (in case Borgrim gives flanking)

[Woggle]

Bone's servant barely even hesitates as it shrugs off Rosa's magic {Wis save: success}. Borgim rushes forward with Hastings raised, pausing for just a moment as he waits for César to complete his charm of blessing.

Rosa and Borgrim strike nearly in unison. Bone's servant manages to turn aside Borgrim's sword at the very last second, neatly avoiding a decapitation. However, that allows Rosa space to quickly thrust her blade into the creatures shoulder, who lets out a hiss of pain in response {B's attack: 14 dam. R's attack: 12 dam}. Borgrim swings around his blade in a circular motion for another cleaving cut at Bone's ambusher, but this time swings wide {Bonus Attack: miss}.

Hissing in anger, Bone's servant once again lunges at Rosa with an outstretched hand. Rosa sidesteps warily. Letting out a yell of frustration, the creature then shoulders into Rosa, trying to knock her off the rooftop.

Spoiler: OOC, Round 2 over

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Initiative for Round 3: Rosa 26, Borgrim 6, César 5, Creature 4.

Bone's servant's rolls HERE.

Borgrim's Bless bonus for his bonus attack roll: Bless - (1d4)[1]

Rosa needs to make either a Strength (Athletics) or Dexterity (Acrobatics) vs. the creature's roll of 6.

Was César's Tides of Chaos not recharged? If he's using Bless to recharge it, then that is an automatic Wild Magic Surge.

[Kaptin Keen]

Borgrim, deep in the throes of his wild temper, yells at the creature as he swings at it repeatedly:

Tell me your name, misbegotten creature, as the blade whirles right to left, that I may add your bitter end to it's glorious history! - and circles back and ready for the next blow.

Spoiler: OOC

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Attack: (1d20+6)[19] or (1d20+6)[23]
Damage: (2d6+6)[16]

Bonus action:
Attack: (1d20+6)[23] or (1d20+6)[12]
Damage: (2d6+6)[14]

[WalkingTheShade]

"Keep your hands off..." Rosa's voice trails off as the creature's shoulder connects with her plexus. The first step back finds the roof but the second one doesn't. For an instant, Rosa, suspended above the void, eyes the menacing bottom of the street below.

It looks as if she's letting herself fall, but she grabs the gutter at the edge of the roof and uses her momentum to swing back up on the roof, a couple feets away.

"Not falling for that one," she adds out loud, with a smirk, repeating the Joker's words.

She lunges back into the fight.

Spoiler: OOC

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Acrobatics - (1d20+6)[18] it's an opposed roll, can I fail on a one?

Attack rolls in OOC

[iTookUrNick]

Cèsar leaves the name calling and the close combating to his allies, focusing instead on keeping his magic under control. He lets out a blast to contribute more directly, putting some more ground in between the enemy and himself.
Meanwhile, his raven flies out of his own accord and tries to peck the creature's eyes out with gusto.

Spoiler: AttackRoutine

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Raven: help - (1d20+4)[20], +2 extra if getting a flanking bonus.
Ben: hit - (1d20+6)[19], hitExtra - (1d20+6)[25], ForceDMG - (1d10+4)[7] with Eldritch Blast, range 180ft

[Woggle]

The undead servant hisses its frustrations once again as Rosa sidesteps its shove and stays on her feet. She uses the opportunity to land another quick thrust {12 damage}.

The servant screams in anger, raising its empty in the beginning on an eldritch gesture. It is interrupted, however, by a forceful blast of magic from César {7 damage}, which lets Borgrim get a clean cut with his mighty blade. He hews off the offending appendage, sending the hand cartwheeling away into the street below {16 damage}. The creature lets out a long moan. Borgrim brings his sword around for another cut, lopping down through the creature's shoulder {14 damage}. It shudders and collapses to the rooftop. The sword it held clatters off the roof and shatters as it hits the cobbles below. The creatures body rapidly disintegrates into an ash-like substance, leaving only the tattered black cloak behind. The smell of decay fades away in the breeze.

Aleyn cowers at the other end of the rooftop, hiding his face in his hands. Looking over the edge, Rosa can see the hilt of the sword, along with 1/3 of the blade still intact. Nothing but the slight sound of the breeze stirs in the darkness.

Spoiler: OOC

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Huh, kinda went out like a chump. Ah well .

[Kaptin Keen]

TELL ME YOUR NAME, YOU ... Borgrim begins to roar - but then the fires of his rage dim, *wheeze* you miserable ... thing, you.

He slumps to the roof, spent for now. He seems somehow smaller, at times like this. Frankly, he looks like he'd just as soon just roll over and take a quick nap, right there on the roof. Instead, he turns to Aleyn:

See? This is what 'adventuring' is like. I don't think you're really cut out for it. No insult intended, but ... maybe you're more of a tailor, or a mason? Give it some thought, and I'm sure we can sort you out. Set you up nice and proper.

I'm big on social skills, you know.

[WalkingTheShade]

"Well... here goes taking him alive, having questions answered and yada-yada et caetera," says Rosa with a shrug. No blood? WHY! whines the Slayer behind Rosa's gaze.

She gently kicks Borgrim in the shin. "Don't go napping on us again, it's not the right time," she quips, with a cheerfull voice. She then crouches and grabs the sword hilt between gloved thumb and forefinger, dangling it at arms length, like something that smells pretty bad or might bite her nose off: "Yet another sh!tty clue."

She gives a quick look down to the bottom of the street, wondering if the hand has dissolved away in the same manner.

"So, that was Bone's man. Or elf. Or thing. Don't know if it was alive. Is probably dead now. Saw him with the pipe," while she says that, it's pretty clear Rosa is thinking of something else.

Spoiler: OOC

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Was that an undead? Of what sort? Int - (1d20+3)[15]

Is the cut hand still in the street? Perception - (1d20+5)[6]
Mao goes down to sniff for it: Advantage - (1d20+5)[16]

Any striking detail and the broken sword? Something - (1d20)[17]+something up to the GM.

The Yet another sh!tty clue line is taken straight out of the intro of Le Poulpe/Octopus, 1998, a detective/crime French movie I advise everyone to watch.

[Woggle]

The trio descend from the roof with Aleyn following. Nervously, he asks, half to himself: "So, uh... are banshee's attacking you out of the black of night a, um, common occurrence? Maybe masonry is more appealing..."

Rosa collects the blackened sword hilt and broken blade. César very gingerly wraps the hand up and stows it securely. Borgrim follows the others, half-asleep on his feet, as they trek quickly through the quiet streets to Cutlass Avenue. They steer well clear of a watch patrol making its way down Temple Street, and few minutes later the three companions, with Aleyn tagging along, spot the likely sign of "T's Antiquities, Rarities, & Oddities."

The store front is shuttered for the night, and no candlelight can be seen from within. A closer look from Rosa reveals a small line of symbols at the bottom of the doorframe, tell-tale markings of Port Blacksand's local Thieve's Cant. They seem to suggest the availability of a fence by knocking in code (a simple _ ._ ._ pattern) at the backdoor in the narrow alley behind. A minute of poking about in the alley leads them to the right door. After knocking, there's another minute or so wait before a small slat in the door slides open to reveal a set of eyes framed by bushy brown eyebrows and lit by a small oil lamp.

"Hm. A rose, an outlander, and a... free trader? And a lost puppy in tow. You're not the regular clientele. What's your business at this hour?" The eyebrows waggle with a mix of irritability and curiosity.

Spoiler: OOC

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EDIT: if you wanted to drop Aleyn off somewhere before hand that would be fine, and I'll just edit the last bit of this post.

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa raises an eyebrow, at the mention of free trader that can only apply to the Baron.

"Good night to you, we're here on business. Are you going to let us in? Or shall we discuss under the gaze of the whole neighborhood? You're in retail, right? You got something we need. And from what I saw up front, it's opening hours." Rosa doesn't make an effort to hide her impatience.

[Woggle]

The eyes peer back and forth across the back-alleyway.

"Neighbourhood? Seem's you folk are the only ones about. But I get your drift." The slat slides shut with a clack. There is the sound of several latches being opened, then the door itself signs inward. A middle-aged gnome in an elaborate house coat gestures inward with a sweep of his hand.

"And more importantly, my curiosity has been piqued. Do come in. I am Therin; I assume that's who you're looking to do business with."

The gnome pads away into the darkness of the shop, disappearing from sight. As the four enter, a low, deep growling begins, coming from their right. Therin returns a moment later with a tall lamp in hand.

"Hush, you two." The growling stops, the source of which are two very large mastiffs lazing in a back corner. They settle back down at Therin's words. The gnome waves at his guests to follow. He leads them to a small table in the next room, past walls covered floor to ceiling in bits of earthenware, statues, candelabra, and all sorts of other furnishings.

Therin shuffles up onto a cushioned chair and steeples his fingers atop the table before him. "Now, what is it exactly you're interested in?"

[Woggle]

Therin glances from Borgrim to Rosa to Benedict. He casts a long, lingering look at Aleyn, and an oil-lamp seems to go off in his head.

"Aha! I suspect I know what you're looking for! Humour me a moment; I'll fetch it and see if I was correct..."

The excited antiquarian skips down from his chair and bustles off into the darkness of the shop. Quiet sounds of rummaging can be heard, punctuated by another "AHA!". A moment later Therin returns with an urn-shaped object, roughly one-and-a-half feet tall and a foot in diameter. He places it carefully onto the table, lighting a second lamp to provide better light.

The urn is appears to made mostly of some sort of wood, decorated in bands with yellowed ivory and a bluish-greenish iridescent stone. On the wood in-between the bands are carved inscriptions in a cuneiform script. The lid is simple and shallowly domed, its only decoration being another band of cuneiform writing along the edge where it meets the urn.

Therin's eyes are bright and his eyebrows rustle about in animated, exaggerated excitement as he continues: "Quite a find, don't you agree? I've not determined which city its from yet, but its definitely an authentic burial urn from the ancient kingdom of Djarat. Which if you're not familiar, lay far to the south of the Redstone Mountains, and has long been consumed by desert sands. I've only seen descriptions of such pieces prior to this!"

Therin slowly turns the urn about, showcasing its decorations. "I've not worked out the inscriptions yet, I'm afraid. Taking down references in ancient Djarati is rather difficult. I assume it contained some of the remains of an important official, maybe a priest or high bureaucratic official. Not a monarch or prince -- those are reputed to have animal-shaped lids-- but still a brilliant specimen!"

Therin settles back into his chair, folding his hands before him. "I must admit, I'm rather curious as to why you might be interested in such an object. I wouldn't have taken you for collectors."

Spoiler: OOC

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I realize I could have posted this in the last post, just to move things along a little.

[WalkingTheShade]

Mao the cat frantically sniffs the air when the door opens. As soon as it hears a hint of a dog growl, the cat lets out a hiss, hairs on his back raised and scampers off as fast as it can.

Rosa's look at neither dog nor their master is much affectionate.

"We're proposing you a deal. This urn is cursed. Aleyn's associate have desecrated that urn, when emptying its content. The specter of the being (Aleyn, let's avoid saying its name here) who's remains it contained came to them and marked them for death. We have been hired to handle that very same curse, and its how we found Aleyn and his associates, who in turn told us how to reach and warn you. On the way to your place, we were assaulted by the restless dead; A wight, I believe." Rosa takes out the broken sword of Bone's servant. "I let you decipher what's written on this hilt."

"More will come and, trust me, those dogs will not provide enough protection. Way I see it, we're the ones offering you a boon. By taking the cursed urn in our hands, we would take its curse upon ourselves, freeing you."

Spoiler: OOC

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I have more to say, but I'll leave the others some opportunity to interact too.

Trying Rosa's best to look convincing: Cha - (1d20+2)[12]. I anticipate someone will aid: Advantage - (1d20+2)[15].

Last horror novella I read was about the Heart of Arsinoe, conserved in a funerary urn but still beating. The story had Arsinoe taking over the protagonist's girlfriend all the while sending him back in time to take vengeance over Romans and other enemies.

[Kaptin Keen]

Borgrim is pretty hazy on why we want this urn - although he's open to the possibility it will come in handy for some reason we've yet to discover. He's more interested in the dogs.

Oh - who's a good boy then, eh? He asks, rethorically, as he walks over, who's a good boy. Yes, that's right. Yes, you are.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Borgrim doesn't particularly have a fantastic talent for animal handling, but he has that supreme confidence that always infects people who think they're good with dogs. Which, by the way, is often why they are good with dogs.

Regardless, Handle Animal: (1d20+2)[18]

[WalkingTheShade]

Rosa gives an audible sigh, the very one people who definitively don't like dogs give out when confronted with someone crazy enough not to stay away from jaws that can rip one's throat out. "This is never going to stop, is it..." she whispers under her breath.