Tales of Neutral Ground IC

[3SecondCultist]

You didn't think it was possible for someone to so physically resemble a cat that got the cream, and yet here you are. Dox's stare is fixed upon Kett at first, yet she sidles closer to Kleris this time.

"You mean your good friend 'Kleris Ostren' here didn't tell you? We sent the angel-snake to parlay with him and he wanted to play hardball, so I had someone standing by to deliver her a midnight present. You know the one, Kett, from the Fairhaven job?

I figure the girl has thirty minutes before it stops her little heart. My fellow has the antidote of course... but as none of you have given up anything to better our positions, I'm hardly inclined to tell him to administer it."

She stops just short of the other changeling, considering him. As she does, the more keen-eyed of your band notice the appearance of a few scars and bruises along her exposed skin, but they disappear after a second or two.

"Or did you think I was bluffing?"

Spoiler: Skin Cant

Show

They have no idea, do they? How much is my silence worth to you?

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris narrows his eyes as the other Changeling approaches eying the scars and bruises. He sidles back from the women a few steps to keep the distance, this was a dangerous women and he wanted his space but he made sure not to go far enough his skin couldn't be seen. The positive side was that he didn't have to worry about any of his group seeing the bruises and scars he was going to be making on his skin under the illusion.

This was going to be a delicate balancing act to be sure.

The disguised Changeling rolls his eyes at Dox "Sorry I didn't want to walk right into the middle of your mess of hired muscle and apparently your hidden ancient celestial. My bad for trying to resist that and believing you wouldn't poison a small innocent child with horrific substance. I was going to try and talk to my compatriots here but we were... interrupted by somebody."

On his base body scars and bruises erupt into being all over. His disguise self pulls his sleeves up to start picking off some of the burned skin.

Spoiler: Base Body Skin Cant

Show

The important ones know but your nemesis doesn't. I am willing to try to move this forward for a favor though.

Spoiler: Disguise Body Skin Cant

Show

I have layers going you can't even fathom.

[CozJa]

Dox words don't fail to attract Arimart's attention, but Kett is faster than him (as often happens) at reacting to them.
When their enemy answers, explaining what she did to Layla, Arimart can't help but turn to her, shouting: "You did WHAT?"

A barrage of raging thoughts assails the paladin's mind, and he thinks some unspeakable actions toward the traitorous woman. Then, he glances at the holy celestial standing before them, a pure creature of light that he didn't even think possible to meet in his life. And he focuses his mind. Redemption is always an open offer, and even if violence may be the answer, it is not right now.

"Excuse me..." He says, then drinks a potion of healing, changes direction, starts walking toward lady Dox, "Let me get this straight... " he interjects, while casually healing some of his bruises and burns with his divine powers.

"It is quite clear that this attack was completely uncalled for, and that professor Drake and lady Velancor should now be able to settle their arguments in a more reasonable way. Now, you want the journal, and your 'genius' plan consists in poisoning a little girl? Maybe hoping to force us to give you something before we see her? Now, let's be clear, because I'm really not sure I understand everything..." As he says that, he stops in front of lady Dox fixing his eyes on her.

"If the kid dies, do you really think your third-grade henchmen will stop *me* from killing *you*?"

Spoiler: Lay on Hands

Show

Expending 20 hp to heal, leaving Arimart with 10 Hp left on his pool, the potion heals 5 HP. Arimart is now back at 38

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Drake could see his words resonated with Lady Velancor, but before they could continue, Dox stepped in n and interrupted the conversation. With a placid look on his face, he held up a finger as of to ask for a moment, murmuring, ”A moment, Milady. You turned this into a negotiation and I am negotiating with Lady Velancor.” However, her snark to Kett elicited an extreme reaction with Arimart, to which the dwarf added, ”It seems you have some negotiating to do with the honorable knight. However, given your treatment of the only bargaining chip you have and your seeming lack of civility, it seems your efforts may require some rapid conciliatory actions.”

Using Arimart’s intervention, Drake stepped close to Velancor and spoke directly to her, using his cantrip to fill the air around Dox and Arimart with an ominous tune that matched the armored man’s visage. ”We all serve something greater than ourselves, but I am willing to deal with you for the orrery. The money is likely recoverable from your kinsman, but as you can see, my companions are very concerned with the young lady.

To be clear, we will give you the orrery trigger now. In return, I humbly request you open a dialogue with Morgrave University on the study of planar manifestations and, more importantly, you and your celestial ally aid our recovery of Layla. I surmise she isn’t far, else we would not be able to reach her in time. You get what you came to the city for, you consolidate your mutually beneficial relationships with the academia in Sharn, and I’m sure you would enjoy the additional boon of the Ambassador being in your debt.”

---

OOC - Let’s see if this helps ...

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 19/52 Init +2 Move 30’
Saves: Str +0 Dex +2 Con +2 Int +2 Wis +6 Cha +0
Skills: Arcana/Religion +8; Insight +5; Perception +9;
Warder’s inspiration (+1d4): Investigate, History, Thieves tools
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 3-3rd
0: guidance, thaumatugy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x3): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x2): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, enhance ability, locate object
3rd (x1): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic
Wards & seals (1/long): alarm, arcane lock, mage armor

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[3SecondCultist]

The smirk doesn't quite disappear when Arimart rounds on Dox; in fact, it grows even wider. However, it's impossible to miss that the shapeshifter takes one half pace back as the prosecutor closes the distance between them. Then another. Up close, Arimart can spot the tightened muscles in her neck and cheek, tell-tale signs of forced calm in the face of an unexpected threat. A few bruises blossom into being around her collarbone like some errant rash, which look like they might be trying to disguise the flush of fear from beneath her skin. Just as last time, the blots disappear almost before you even register their appearance.

"I'm certain you would have me on the ropes before too long," she replies with a demure half-bow that nearly conceals a tremble, "but the girl would be dead all the same. She does not interest me, and I would happily see her returned to her father as long as I get what I need. I just don't appreciate being cut out of the deal so artlessly; if you're going to get what you want, then so should I." So focused is she on the knight that she doesn't seem to notice the underlying noise of Drake's spell this time, and misses out on the simultaneous exchange happening just a few feet away.

Lady Velancor doesn't reply immediately to Drake's request, giving Kleris a once-over before openly considering the scene of threat and response unfolding in front of her. When her attention does return to the dwarf, the look has not yet left.

"You're full of good ideas, Professor, and I think tonight may just go the way you want. But I'll have that controller first. If you want me to trust you, then you have to trust me." Down comes the open palm for the second time.

Spoiler: Skin Cant

Show

"If you move this along in my favour, I'll owe you one."

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Drake stood quietly for a moment, one hand absently patting his beard. After a moment, the cantrip gave a sudden series of pops from behind Dox. Using the distraction, Drake leaned in and whispered with a small smile, ”Trust is a precious commodity to trade in. But I cannot give you what you already have.”

But as quickly as he leaned in, he recoiled, taking a step back. ”I am sorry we could not come to an agreement long before all of this, Milady.

Now I must attend Lady Dox before both she and Layla end up journeying beyond this night.”

---

OOC - Using Thaumaturgy to distract folks to slip the controller into Velancor’s pockets/robes ( 17). Then he’ll turn to assess the Arimart-Dox situation. As well as check g on the other assassins...

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 19/52 Init +2 Move 30’
Saves: Str +0 Dex +2 Con +2 Int +2 Wis +6 Cha +0
Skills: Arcana/Religion +8; Insight +5; Perception +9;
Warder’s inspiration (+1d4): Investigate, History, Thieves tools
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 3-3rd
0: guidance, thaumatugy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x3): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x2): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, enhance ability, locate object
3rd (x1): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic
Wards & seals (1/long): alarm, arcane lock, mage armor

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[CozJa]

The paladin keeps his eyes fixed on lady Dox, only stepping a bit closer to her. "Then bring her here, or show us the way. But choose quickly, because I'm growing impatient."

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 23/59 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~5 hours), 4/6 Ki Remaining, Pass Without Trace (~1 hour) Concentrating: Pass Without Trace (~1 hour) "Yes, lets continue on, before Dox decides to poison any more innocent children." At least Arimart had his head on straight for this. So far. All bets were off for everything if Layla did expire though, and chances are it would start a true ratrace once the Codex entered full play. Vengeance for the death of a child was one thing, but avoiding hundreds if not thousands of shadowmarked deaths - including children - was another entirely. She takes a deep breath, taking solace in Arano's presence. If they could keep everyone's head straight for just another hour...that's all they needed. Just another hour, and then Layla safe, Codex acquired, Arano and Lia protected and she could properly relax for the first time in weeks.

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris says nothing, just removing his helmet to rub his irritated bruised and burned skin. This seems like it was taking a turn in the right direction at least.

Spoiler: Skin Cant

Show

This has turned against you. I wouldn't be able to swing it now. Meet me in a day or two and we can work out a new deal.

[3SecondCultist]

Lady Velancor closes her hand around empty air, but Drake doesn't miss the quirk at the corner of her lips before she stuffs the hand back in her pocket and looks back to her evening's partner. Dox, shaking away the last of the ringing noise, gives both of the priests a hard stare but doesn't speak up further with Arimart breathing down her neck. There are no more changes on her skin; whatever shifting was happening there seems to have ceased for the time being. When the two women look each other eye to eye, the Thrane gives a definitive nod that the house agent returns after a moment's hesitation.

"Well now, was that so hard? One down, one to go." She gives the paladin a gentle pat on the chest plate as she extricates herself from his reach, gesturing to the rest of the blades in the dark to begin to move. Hands still very close to their weapons, the circle around you breaks out leaving you a clear path to proceed to the north - back towards Throneport. The changeling-in-disguise wastes no time in getting to it, growing a few inches in front of your eyes in order to lengthen her strides. As she passes Kett and Arano she gives the couple a wide wink and grin, waving everyone forward to follow her. Khabris and Velancor walk side by side, neither moving their lips but you are positive they are communicating. Draci walks right behind the pair, visored helm never straying from her charge. One of the twin half-elves joins Dox at the head of the column, the other making up the rear, and the other Thuranni intersperse themselves between and around you all. It's impossible not to be aware that you're still enclosed in every way that counts.

Several minutes of silent walking later, your troupe of knights, assassins, spies and one angel arrive in the moon-shadow of one of the outer walls of the city. Ahead of you is what was surely once a stately guard tower, whose ramparts have borne the worse of the decades: the wood has long rotted away and moss and vines have reclaimed a great deal of the mortar. Throneport, for all its international importance, does not have much of an out-city in any direction other than the port; the island of Thronehold itself is too small to support any shanty-towns, and there is little enough business to conduct here during daylight hours. All the better for your trade, as other than the faint torchlight from the dwindling farms nobody is directly about.

"It's just through here," Dox says. Bounding forward, she feels around the dilapidated masonry. Her hands disappear under one of the green verges, before you hear a low rumbling crack. For a heart-pounding moment it sounds like she's going to bring down the whole structure on your heads, but not two seconds later a small puff of dust is released into the air and a crack becomes visible in the wall's facade. Calling Berick up to help her, they manage to widen the portal, which is revealed to be nothing less than a secret door! Jagged stone steps descend down into chilling black, and it by the width you would guess that only one person can walk abreast at a time.

Dox pulls out a smooth stone from her pocket. Tracing the edge of it with one finger, a runic tracery lights up deep within and she holds it up to her mouth. "Sun cremfel. We're coming up through the under passage, have the antidote prepped. Do not administer until my say so." She waits for the confirmation, which comes through in a crackly male voice to let her know that the order was acknowledged. The whole time, she does not break eye contact with Arimart.

"Good enough?"

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 23/59 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~5 hours), 4/6 Ki Remaining, Pass Without Trace (~40 minutes) Concentrating: Pass Without Trace (~40 minutes) The walk over is quiet, but not particularly meditative. Every step Kett is mapping out different plans of escape in case of a sudden double cross. Or triple cross. Or worse. She at least felt confident in her and Arano's abilities to slip away, but losing the group would be a serious blow to the acquisition and destruction of the Codex. When Dox poses her question though, Kett speaks up. "You've brought us to a tunnel and talked into a rock when you're meant to be showing us a healthy, unpoisoned Layla." Her testiness is getting the better of her, and it doesn't hurt anyone to remind them that Dox is as duplicitous as Kett is, but not nearly as charming. "Any message you send could be buried under three layers of code, as we're keenly aware of." She doesn't specify who, exactly, is included in the 'we', though in truth she's primarily referring to herself, Arano and Dox herself. "So no, it's not 'good enough'." She points down into the darkened tunnel, past the group. "So if you could stop wasting Layla's supposedly precious time, we can all get what we want." The clock was still ticking, for all of them. She'd like nothing more than to slit the Thuranni's throat here and now, but personal grudges - and professional ones - had to sit by the wayside. The job was more important.

[CozJa]

Arimart doesn't speak while the group walks by. He continues to keep a stone-faced mask and considers his options, evaluating how to act. Maybe this is the time of compromises, but keeping Dox on the fence is still doable, and quite satisfying for the paladin, who is growing more and more frustrated by how things seem to going bad to worse every day. First the discovery of a large undercover plan from a supposedly imprisoned war criminal, then the kidnapping of lady Layla, now... this.

"Don't be too hard on fate," says the half-elf to himself "After all, when night's darker the flame shines brighter."

When they reach Dox 'cove' he doesn't say nothing until after Kett has talked.

"My associate speaks well, I'm still not sure on whether you should see the next dawn or not, and retrieving Layla will certainly increase my disposition toward you. But let's be clear: if something goes wrong, You die first."

[3SecondCultist]

"Well I suppose I should just shut up and accept my victory, then." Giving Kett a pouty smile, the infiltrator disappears down the shaft and into the earth without another word, flanked by a few of her cronies. The rest wait for your group to follow suit before falling in behind you. Velancor raises the hem on her skirt as she steps daintily over the threshold, keeping angel in front and a knight behind.

The tunnel delves down at a gentle decline, steps wide apart and decently even. Similarly, the walls of the passage are surprisingly smooth, hewn as they are from solid rock. Every fifteen to twenty paces is a small iron rivet that's been hammered into the rock, several of which still hold torches. None of the elves move to light them, and given that there don't seem to be any other openings for ventilation you cannot imagine that they would have been used often. The way is more or less straight, with a few gentle bends but no real deviations or forks in the road. When you take all of that information along with the fact that the descent was long enough to put you beneath even the sewers, your collective suspicions sharpen on the most likely conclusion as to this tunnel's purpose and possible destination.

After another interminable amount of walking - longer this time, what feels like days spent without a glimmer or glow - the passage begins to gradually ascend until you reach the base of a small spiral staircase. A dull crimson heartbeat is visible at the top of the stairwell, through what appear to be wooden slits or perhaps the base of a floorboard. Wordlessly, the others begin to move.

Clambering up, you emerge out into a truly cavernous space. Grand curtains fold in and out of view like waves, their surfaces broken by soaring pillars of gilt leaf and engraved marble. They envelop you on three sides, boxing in the space around your group. Fluttering ever so slightly on a breeze sure to come from an open window somewhere above, they race together under your gaze as you follow their common trajectory into the distant darkness at least sixty feet above your heads. The space between the pillars themselves is titanic enough, easily a hundred and a half paces as one travels lengthwise and roughly half that in terms of depth. The smooth, worn floorboards of what you realize is a stage are bathed in carnelian hues from a magical lantern far above.

Looking out beyond where the fourth wall would have been confirms exactly where you are. The base of the stage extends outward in a gentle semi-circle before dropping off to an orchestra pit, tattered sheet music and chairs lying abandoned in the dark. Beyond the pit the wood changes to a ruby carpet-like material, spun with gold brocades as it mirrors the shape of the stage and runs up three aisles. Between them lie rows upon rows, hundreds upon hundreds of seats. Somewhere in the distance there are stairs up to a second section of seats. All are empty, bereft of life... until you spot movement from below. Three more lean silhouettes cleave themselves from the shadows, and as they approach you see that one of them carries a limp blonde form over their shoulder.

"Welcome," Dox announces cheerfully, giving the other elf the signal to put Layla down and administer the antidote which takes the form of a vial of clear fluid, "one and all, to the House of Counted Shadows! Mavelorn, please make sure that Lady ir'Sencriss is breathing would you? I'd hate to come all this way just to spoil everything now."

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 23/59 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~5 hours), 4/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- "You're half right at least." Kett fires back before they're lead below. The childish barb trading between the two of them was just that - childish - but it was hard for Kett to hold back with Dox. Hard enough that they weren't going to blows right here and now. Words were all she had for the moment, much as it displeased her. When their final destination is announced she suppresses a frown. Hadn't the others been investigating here? Had they simply missed the occupants? "Ah." Kett glances around the expansive room. Lots of open space, but also lots of cover. There could be a great many more around. She raises her voice, casting it out into the darkness beyond the stage that they stand upon, as if she herself were an actor in a production. "Dramatic, yes, but you still can't build anything of your own I see. Always just taking the spoils of someone else's hard work." It's not a moral judgement that she has. She's the daughter of pirates, after all, that was their entire livelihood during her early years. It's just used to dig at Dox (and Thuranni by proxy) to make them seem below Phiarlan. Get them on edge. Make them do something stupid. Her eyes fall on Layla. It was probably her, and yet: "Mutual trust is hard to come by these days. You won't mind verifying that it is Layla and not, say, a changeling in disguise?"

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Drake kept his eyes on the pathways and any viable landmarks. While he didn’t relish a retreat through contested territory, better to have an option than none at all. As they emerged into what Dox announced as the House, his eyes immediately looked towards the direction of the square he and Kleris had sat at earlier in the week. The question was - had the Halfling woman set them up or was this just coincidence. The problem with ‘lucky’ happenstances is they rarely occurred naturally.

His mind snapped back to the present as Dox’s people deposit the unconscious form of Lady Layla. Before he was willing to hand over a journal, he too had concerns about her legitimacy. He focused his thoughts for a moment, then surveyed the room closely. Mentally, however, he directed his thoughts outward ...

---

OOC - A little something to catch up ...

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 19/52 Init +2 Move 30’
Saves: Str +0 Dex +2 Con +2 Int +2 Wis +6 Cha +0
Skills: Arcana/Religion +8; Insight +5; Perception +9;
Warder’s inspiration (+1d4): Investigate, History, Thieves tools
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 3-3rd
0: guidance, thaumatugy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x3): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x2): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, enhance ability, locate object
3rd (x1): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic
Wards & seals (1/long): alarm, arcane lock, mage armor

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris admires the House of Counted Shadows as they enter. He whistles out loud "Well this is a very fine house if I say so. Though when you picture the center for the dragonmark houses best known for espionage you picture something... I dunno dark with lots of shadowy alcoves and possibly live torches with the flame colors changed to weird blacks and greens."

As he sees Layla he rushes over, he needed her alive so he could deepen his ties to Ir'Sencriss. He didn't have any way to check her identity at this time so he would let the others take care of that. He bends down to the one knee and starts to check her over "Hey Layla, how you doing? We're here to take you home to your dad. He's been missing you lots."

[3SecondCultist]

"Not at all," replies Dox to Kett's final question, and possibly several of her earlier comments. "You can even use the angel-snake thing, to make sure."

After a look to both Drake and Velancor, the transfigured celestial drifts over to the form of the supine Layla just as Dox's man uncorks the bottle and tilts her head back gently to pour some of it down her throat. Khabris' solid gold pupils focus on the girl before surreptitiously scanning the rest of the room and returning to your group. <There is no trickery here,> they announce to all of you subvocally. <I see no illusions or shapeshifting afoot; this girl is indeed Layla ir'Sencriss.>

Kleris is not far behind the couatl, falling to his knees so as to give the poisoned victim a familiar face to wake up to. He is however greeted by the rather unpleasant sight of Layla gagging on the medicine as it begins to do its work. Shaking silently, her eyes roll back and her shoulders spasm, fingers clawing at air as she manages to twist about. Kleris only barely manages to avoid getting sick all over his already dirt-and-blood stained clothing as Layla is violently ill on the stage.

"H...hello..." she manages to sputter as she wipes away the aftermath. A few dribbly strands of mucus and other unpleasant come away on her sleeve. Crusty, red-rimmed eyes crack open, taking in the ruddy glow and the silhouettes above her. Both widen suddenly at the strange looking serpentine woman, but she's too weak to even crawl away. Her breathing only begins to slow as some part of her brain catches up with what Kleris has just said. "My... father? Where is he?"

[CozJa]

As Kleris rushes to lady Layla and they receive confirmation about her identity, Arimart feels relieved, with less weight on his shoulders. Well, figuratively, at least, since Gryphon is still over there, almost a dead weight, even if the paladin believes he felt a movement.
It could be nothing, or the wizard could be back on his senses. In any case, he whispers to his fellow half-elf.

"Sir Gryphon, if you are back with us, keep feigning not to be. We may need every little advantage we can get."

After this, Arimart raises his voice, as if to attract everyone's attention.

"Well, since lady Layla is indeed alive, maybe all of us can stay that way for today. escort us back and we will give you what you want."

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Drake waited until the celestial serpent spoke, nodding to himself as the girl slowly came to. He glanced around the room, eyes meeting with the others, and even pausing momentarily on Velancor. Shaking his head slightly, his shoulders slumped somewhat, the dwarf nodded at Arimart's comments. With a sigh, he motioned vaguely in the air.
"Aye, we would be much obliged if you would escort us outside, or at least to the open exit.
There are simply too many codael colaer* within this House for me to feel like we are exchanging favors and not about to be murdered. The journal will be yours, of course, complete with notes in the margins, although not many. You may find some surprising insights ... and those you thought were allies are more than what they seem. We are all at risk from something few of us actually comprehend or see.

But such is the way of dirty little secrets, eh?"

---

OOC - *Elvish for hidden knives.

After reading the journal, I wonder who Dox will think V is ...

PS - Drake wants to be safe from the hidden assassins here in the building. I'm sure there are some outside, but I think we have a better chance of survival there then in here. And given that I messed up my HPs and couldn't find any healing performed, Drake is only at 19 out of 52. Yikes! I'll hold just to see what Dox says to the suggestion/request

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 19/52 Init +2 Move 30’
Saves: Str +0 Dex +2 Con +2 Int +2 Wis +6 Cha +0
Skills: Arcana/Religion +8; Insight +5; Perception +9;
Warder’s inspiration (+1d4): Investigate, History, Thieves tools
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 3-3rd
0: guidance, thaumaturgy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x3): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x2): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, enhance ability, locate object
3rd (x1): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic
Wards & seals (1/long): alarm, arcane lock, mage armor

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[GameOfChampions]

'Bind her to you. Use her fear to bring her, and her father in turn, closer.

'Comfort her you fool. This child is fearful and worried you monster!'

Sask mentally shrugs, Istren and Kleros had such singular mindsets. They had some uses but why do an action with only one goal in mind. That seemed so... primitive.

Kleris uses a handkerchief and a bit of prestidigitation to clear up some of the mess and dirt while giving her a comforting smile 'Don't worry little one. We will have you in front of your father in no time. He has been so worried about you."

[3SecondCultist]

Layla manages to recover from the last of the coughing fits as she returns to a semblance of normalcy. The shadow begins to recede from her, as a more hale colour returns to her cheeks. She grasps onto Kleris as one might a lone rock in a stormy sea, and does not let go. Whatever sounds she murmurs into his jacket aren't audible, but you can probably grasp the gist of them from context. She rises unsteadily to her feet as the worst of the mess is cleaned up, but her hand does not leave his.

The rest of the assembled crew watch the display with contrasting attitudes. Velancor - who has been standing off to the side with her arms crossed since you all entered the grand theatre - seems to relax her shoulders slightly, but says nothing. Khabris floats back near her, taking up a position at her side and to the left, opposite Draci. The half-orc knight does not move, a statue of steel waiting for orders, but the direction of her helmet would indicate that she is very much paying attention to events as they unfold. Finally, Dox has moved across the stage and is now backed by her kill squad. She smiles feebly and plays with the hilt of a blade.

"... not quite yet, gentlemen. I'd like to see the journal first, if only to check that it's genuine. You can't be too careful these days, you know." The words, though delivered lightly, are not posed as a question.

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Drake's visage remained blandly benign, even though the implied threat was not lost on the dwarf. He let her words sit ominously in the air for a moment. Then for another moment. Then another moment, making the situation less intimidating and more uncomfortable. He coughed slightly, reached up to scratch his beard and continued to stand passively, before finally opening his eyes in surprise with a start. "Oh! I'm sorry, you actually meant right now! My apologies - social sparring is not my particular forte. No, research is mine. Well, and I dabble in protective enchantments ... runes, arcane locks, glyphs and the like. They simply fascinate me with the sheer number of possibilities one can capture in a few words, symbols or shapes." Drake turned away too step over to Kleris, one hand leaning heavily on his walking stick, the other touching his side with a wince, the wound from Draci still fresh. He continued to chatter.
"There are, of course, limitations ... what sorts of spells can be used, where they can be placed, and the like. But they often can stay active for ages, with the right rituals ... invisible to all but the most powerful divinations or arcane sight ..."

Leaning down, Drake murmured excuse me as he reached into Kleris's robes, producing a small journal with his free hand. Nodding his thanks with a small smile, he turned and took a step towards Dox, but stopping well out of reach, his eyes still on the now blood-stained book, one finger tracing lazily across the front cover ... lost in thought. He continued to murmur, almost to himself. [i]"What is truly intriguing are the two sides of the coin to activate a quiescent spell, or discharge the awakened protections. They can require a very specific incantation ... a word or phrase ... passing a barrier ... or keyed to a particular person. You'd be amazed at how simple it is to empower the most destructive of wards." Shaking his head, he blinked from his reverie and looked up to Dox with a wan smile, holding the book out towards her. "Trust, you said? Aye, that seems in short supply in places such as this. But never-the-less, your prize awaits, Lady Dox."

---

OOC - She'll need to cross the distance to get the book. It is blood stained, with a dwarven glyph that says 'Beware.'

I'm sure the book is fine ...

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 19/52 Init +2 Move 30’
Saves: Str +0 Dex +2 Con +2 Int +2 Wis +6 Cha +0
Skills: Arcana/Religion +8; Insight +5; Perception +9;
Warder’s inspiration (+1d4): Investigate, History, Thieves tools
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 3-3rd
0: guidance, thaumaturgy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x3): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x2): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, enhance ability, locate object
3rd (x1): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic
Wards & seals (1/long): alarm, arcane lock, mage armor

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[3SecondCultist]

Every word that Drake utters as a part of his act echoes perfectly off the proscenium and archways of the House of Counted Shadows. Were the original proprietors of the landmark here, they would surely applaud the dwarf; each pause is charged with stillness, implications of contingencies unleashed, with death the wager. His blocking is just as impeccable, as each and every one of the Thuranni are given a perfect view of his unstaunched hand grasping the book under imbrued glare. Half a dozen pairs of eyes follow Drake's steps across the stage, while ears pick up on his faux-whispers spoken to nobody in particular.

Dox takes one step towards the proffered journal. Then a second. Though her pace is deliberate, she has slipped out of her disaffected demeanour as one might a dress that's out of fashion; she keeps both hands at her sides - too relaxed to be anything of the sort - and regards both Drake and the gory tome with open scrutiny. As she steadily closes the inches, the massed gazes begin to turn to regard her next move.

"My thanks for the warning, Professor. But given the alternatives, I think I may have to take my chances." She sounds more like she's trying to convince herself than anything else. She reaches out one arm in a sudden motion, unremarkable fingers less than a foot away from the blood-and-leather bound cover when a peculiar sound is heard: a high-pitched hiss, scarcely perceptible yet all the more prominent for it. It resembles nothing more than a child sucking air between their teeth.

As one, the crowd swivels to confront the noise's origin. Khabris, the metamorphosed couatl, has fixed its gaze on the journal and both actors in its exchange. Her gaze - lidless, brilliant - bores into the book with the same intensity reserved for Layla. The angel says nothing, but its message is clear and Dox takes a half-leap back as though stung.

"Well now," the changeling chuckles, features sharpening even as the indisputable glint of delight creeps into her eye, "I guess there's no harm in being safe, now is there? Just drop the book on the stage, if you don't mind. I'll have my people take a look shortly. In the meantime, a deal is a deal; Mavelorn, Berick, please see out all of our guests."

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 23/59 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~5 hours), 4/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- "Could've gone better," she glances at the still-carried Gryphon, "Could've gone a lot worse." She's still keenly aware that they might be listened in on. The extraction of the Codex would have to be quick, and ideally done securely. Ideally they'd do it without Danilos knowing at all, but chances are that wouldn't be possible, and if he had some defences against scrying they might choose to make use of them. He'd want to know, at least, why they were interested in his daughter, and the destruction of the Codex was now in Danilos' best interest as well. Its confirmed removal from the board was possibly the only thing that would keep Layla from a future kidnapping attempt. "Perhaps our first port of call should be getting Layla home, so we can put this business to bed." Vagueries for the eavesdroppers. Of course she doesn't know how to destroy the Codex - if it's magically protected at all. It might be they just need to deliver it to the Sage and they'll take care of it though. Certainly she'd rather it not be left in her or Arano's hands for any extended period of time. That's a target on the back neither of them want or need.

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Drake's smile never changed, benign and friendly. He nodded and pulled the book back with a nod. "As you wish, my lady. A pleasure ..." Drake gave Dox a small bow, then limped to the stage to set the book down with a pat. Then he joined the others in departing the theater, still on edge until they had gotten free of the House. He didn't respond to any talk until they were outside. Too many chances for this to still go south.

Of course, it would've been worse if he had given Dox a fake book, but for now he just had to trust she would get little more than what was in the margins ... and they needed as much time as they could get to delay her finding out what it said about Layla.

---

OOC - Waiting to make sure we actually make it out of this alive ... Drake's gambit paid off somewhat, but there they were still danger close.
As Drake moves to set the book, he made sure his bloody hand gripped it in a way that marred some of those last pages with his blood. Maybe not a smart move, but the best he could think of at this point.

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 19/52 Init +2 Move 30’
Saves: Str +0 Dex +2 Con +2 Int +2 Wis +6 Cha +0
Skills: Arcana/Religion +8; Insight +5; Perception +9;
Warder’s inspiration (+1d4): Investigate, History, Thieves tools
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 3-3rd
0: guidance, thaumaturgy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x3): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x2): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, enhance ability, locate object
3rd (x1): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic
Wards & seals (1/long): alarm, arcane lock, mage armor

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[CozJa]

Observing the scene between Drake and Dox with amusement, Arimart waits for them to conclude their charade, then stands ready to react at every possible occurrence.

As things remain peacefully and the group, now with three more people with them, leaves the Shadow Demense, the paladin relaxes a bit.

He nods in agreement at Kett words, then keeps going, slowly approaching lady Velancor.

"It looks like I misjudged your intentions, and I'm satisfied to see that we were able to find a common ground. If we can have some time later, I may have some request for you. Well, to be honest..." He glances at the half-orc warrior and the celestial "to all three of you."

[(Un)Inspired]

Dal Quor had always been one of the best places for Gryphon Aksel Kellson to meet up with his superiors. Where better to give reports to one of Droaam’s Nighthag’s than the Plane of Dreams? He’d spent what had felt like the last few hours giving an update report to Madam Jabra, a distant cousin of his grandmothers, in a dream-representation of the ballroom of the Burning Birthday, set within the main square of Greywall’s bazaar.

The young wizard finished his report and was trying his best to make out the instructions Madam Jabra was voicing to him. The problem was that a loud, rhythmic thumping was droning out her voice. He tried to focus his hearing to make out her voice as the elder Hag cleared her throat and attempted to announce her message again. The thumping grew even louder, however, and as the half-elf creaked his eyes ever so slightly open, he realized it was coming from his own head bumping repeatedly against a breastplate to the walking rhythm of whoever was carrying him. He opened his eyes just a pinch more as he stared at the well-polished metal, and his connection to Dal Quor was severed.

I know this armor. This is the breastplate Prosecutor Kaessel wears. Wait, he’s carrying me! WAIT, we were attacked by a real magician! That Fireball, oh gods, pulse pulse PULSE!

In an instant, Gryphon snaps completely back to consciousness and starts scrambling desperately to get out of Arimart’s arms. Pulse, pulse! Let me down! practically climbing over the Paladin, he drops down with the majority of his typical nimbleness on his feet. He reaches one hand out to steady himself on the taller Khorovar and the other snaps to his neck, two fingers extended to check his own vital signs. He scans his companions and as soon as he notices Layla is with them his eyes widen and he ducks and shimmies around Arimart, keeping the stalwart lawman in between himself and the rest of his friends.

…57…58…59…60. Okay, okay. 42bpm, we’re all gonna be okay. It’s okay, hehheh that was a close one. That could have been really bad for all of us, and Layla. Layla! You’re okay, oh thank gods. They didn’t hurt you too badly, did they? Come over here kiddo you’ve got some schmutz on you still. He cast Prestidigitation to help clean up the girl.

Well done everyone! And thank you for being my chauffeur this evening, Prosecutor. Seeing as the young Lady is safe, and we all appear to be alive, I must surmise that the operation was a success. While it may be dashedly bad form to gloat regarding a victory, I’m rather eager to hear of the justice and/or torture you meted out to the would-be kidnappers. Will one of you fill me in?

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 23/59 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~5 hours), 4/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- "Short version: Lost the fight, got to talking, traded off the journal and the orrery controller for Layla, now we're leaving. The longer version is the same except with more threats and gloating." Kett sighs. "There was no stunning victory and Dox is still around. A problem for another day. We've still got other pressing matters to attend to." She hoped she wouldn't have to remind Grypon of exactly why Layla had been kidnapped. His attachment to the girl was all well and good but Kett'd given him a week to work the problem, to no result, and now the time pressure was greater than ever. If his affections got in the way of solving the problem then heated words would be needed, and she'd rather not have to bother.

[3SecondCultist]

Perhaps surprisingly, Dox and the rest of the elves are perfectly true to their word. Dox leaves the book where it is on the ground, giving you all an openly mocking bow as you take your leave. The Thuranni blades escort your large group off the stage and through the theatre aisles, Velancor and her retinue following the five of you in perfect silence. Nobody tries to stop you. Layla sticks close to Arimart the whole while, shooting tear-filled glances at the slumped and bloodied wizard slung over his shoulder. Finally Arano trails behind, a phantom more at home in the shadows. His eyes are veiled as he takes one last look at what was once his house's demesne, muttering something rather untoward in his native tongue as the doors to the House of Counted Shadows close behind him. The very final cardinal glimmer winks out, and you hear a faint clanking sound as a heavy bolt falls into place.

Under Eyre's eye, even the most cloistered of Throneport's alleyways are awash with silver. The gutter torches and occasional everbright lantern that grace the intersections of the night markets seem muted compared to the full attention of a moon of Eberron. The occasional skulkers or passers-by that linger in the spaces the shabby bars and decrepit hotels of the Port District keep up their hoods or collars - no longer quite seasonal, but certainly the vestment of choice when out and about the city at night. None seem to offer your group any undue attention, either because they recognize faces among your entourage or perhaps because they do not want anything to do with a numerous and well-armed crowd. It is for that reason that you're able to find a mostly empty side-street about halfway between the House and the Reprieve to reconnoitre after Gryphon awakes.

"You're alive!" The moment that the Khoravar bladesinger is standing on his feet, he is nearly bowled over by a tiny Layla ir'Sencriss. The girl wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes him tightly, burying her filthy face into his shirt. You can barely hear her voice as she speaks into his clothes. "They burned out the light, and took Jaunt away. I prayed... prayed you'd come... that you'd all come." Her composure wobbles twice before cracking completely, and before long the ambassador's daughter is shaking with silent sobs.

A few feet away, Velancor watches the scene unfold. The bone-haired woman's face is inscrutable, but for a faint crease in her brow. When Arimart approaches her, the Thrane spymistress returns the knight-prosecutor's gaze without flinching. "Dox did not tell me about the child until it had already happened, or the poison. That may not be an excuse, but I would not have resorted to such methods had I not already agreed to help in exchange for what I wanted. I am pleased to have come to an alternative arrangement."

With that, she spins right to Drake. "Though I now hold both pieces of the orrery, you were instrumental in its recovery. I do not know what Flamekeep intends to do with it, but I promise you now that I will insist on your people being involved in its study. You have proven yourself a worthy agent, Professor Shardstone; I hope to test my wits against you in the future."

[(Un)Inspired]

Oof! As Layla slams into Gryphon, the air is nearly knocked out of the slightly singed wizard. He wraps the poor girl up in a comforting hug and lets her cry freely. You were really brave, Layla. When I was just a little older than you I was kidnapped by trolls and it wasn’t until my Grandmother’s Honor Guard… took care of them… that I was rescued, and I wasn’t able to stay strong for nearly as long as you have tonight. I’m really proud of you. You know, as soon as the bad people came for you, your dad jumped into action and we all came together to make sure we had you back safely. I’ll always be around to keep you safe. You know…

While still hugging Layla, Gryphon looks up and makes eye contact with Lady Velancor.

… there’s nothing in this city that can permanently stop me.

The Khorovar magician takes a moment to use Shape Water to clean both himself, and his young charge, up a touch, while listening to Kett’s response. All that work to keep the controller from those assassins and now it’s in the hands of the one who holds their leash. Lovely, this is the sort of thing that happens when you invite elves to a party. She’s right, of course, this sort of thing is going to continue to happen until we can distance Layla from this whole mess.

Thank you, Madam Kett, threats and gloating, yes, that does comport with traditional Thronehold negotiations. And it seems we’ve collected our premier “L” after a rather charming string of “W’s”. Well, there’s no shame in a loss to a mage with superior magical acumen, and a larger discretionary budget for hiring brigands. Lady Velancor, you have your upcoming research appointment with our dear Professor, and unless you’ve more displays of Thrannish magic we ought to see, it’s far past my bedtime and we still must return the young lady here home.