Tales of Neutral Ground IC

[(Un)Inspired]

The young wizard’s stomach lurches. All the fun of watching Kett’s family drama evaporated in an instant as this job suddenly became more than just a paycheck. A riot here could dangerous not just to one’s body, but to one’s reputation.

Speaking low and quickly, Gryphon shakes as much pretension out of his voice as possible and speaks directly. Kett! This ballroom’s a killbox! We’re penned in like cattle. I know you don’t just want to get Arano, you want him safe. Let’s take him and go. If these humans want to butcher each other, then let’s have no part of it. If there’s people here you need eliminated to keep him safe, then we can find them and finish them after they’re weakened from this fight. Wouldn’t you rather have a hunt than a riot?

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~6 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- She'd expected him to be more on board, but perhaps his ambition, bravado and showmanship was paper thin. Quietly disappointing. She gives him a quizzical look, tilting her head slightly. "If I was worried Arano would get killed before I talk to him then I'd not suggest this, but he's got the skills to stay alive, as do the rest of us. Otherwise we," she takes a moment to gesture at all four, herself included, "wouldn't be here in the first place." She's radiating a quiet confidence with each word, any doubts she'd had of their plan before attending the party have been washed away. This is Kett with her full conviction, no longer playing a game to find allies or getting dragged into tiresome interrogations. She wasn't reliant on them, but she would make use of them, if she could. "If you want to keep...I didn't catch his name while stopping his assassin from stabbing you in the back...if you want to keep him alive, feel free. It was only a suggestion. Keep him safe if it pleases you. Protect the Magistrates perhaps, assuming they don't look to kill you first, Kellson." It's the first time she has really acknowledged his heritage, with all the weight that carries. She casts an eye over the auction attendants, some in quiet rapture at the sights around them, some muttering amongst one another, and some with a deadly glint in their eyes. "I'm not ordering you to do anything. You're not my servant or my footman, but this riot's going to happen with or without us. Make your peace with that and make your choice quickly, and do so without regrets, because time waits for none of us."

[(Un)Inspired]

Gryphon sighs to himself. What was the old Talents saying? You can lead a Clawfoot to water but you can’t make him drink.

Who are you trying to convince with this display of bravado? Just days ago you hired three near-strangers because you were so desperate to capture Arano safely. You proclaim your competence yet you were utterly unable to find your lover; you relied on him approaching you. Do you think the three of us, and Gryphon swings his arm to indicate Kleris, Arimart and himself, weren’t there with you, in The Reprieve, when you voiced your concern just days ago? Either you’re drunk on your own ego, or there’s something more going on you’re not telling us.

We’re here because you wanted our help. If there’s a reason not to avoid this battle then tell us and we can help you! Trying to deflect with taunts isn’t going aid you in your mission.

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris takes a moment, he pulls up a nearby stool and plops down on it. He lets Gryphon kick up his fuss, drawing out a bit more from Kett. The women clearly had something happen during her conversation with Arrun, maybe news regarding Arano or something of the sort. She was a different women right now, he examines her quickly. Her posture was confident, eyes bright, and tone assertive and firm. Much different from the Kett earlier tonight. Something happened, something good.

What she was proposing wasn't... out of the realm of possibility. He wouldn't be opposed to a good old riot, stirring trouble among the ruling class was always good for opportunities. If he dedicated it to the Traveler before hand then it could even count as divine duties even. However screwing with this many top tier forces in Throneport and during a highly protected party would be dangerous and have a high possibility to backfire on them. Kleris begins weighing the options with one being leaving the party and refusing to be involved, and the other being starting a riot and possibly causing untold chaos.

All in all he was leaning on the side of joining Kett in her crazy mission. The chaos would throw the nobility into chaos, a perfect ground for a changeling agent to work. Ingratiating himself into Ketts regard and possibly Aranos when they found him would also be a plus. That didn't mean he wouldn't be pushing her though, the stakes have gotten higher so it should be simple to get a little more information out of her.

He leans back on his stool and steeples his fingers to rest his chin on, eyes on Kett. "Don't treat us like fools Kett. Gryphon is right that somethings changed, while you don't need too tell us everything feeding us the basest of half truths will get you nowhere. Don't sell us on this with 'opportunities' to kill supposed enemies but instead by bringing us a little more into the loop. I'm not opposed to the idea of a riot here, a little chaos could be good like you said. Flush out something interesting. Sell us."

He waits a moment, gesturing to the party. Then waits for Gryphon and Arimart to look at the party he gestured to or to Kett before he catches her eye and winks. He had a card to play with the others, he just needed his carrot first.

[3SecondCultist]

Even as you scheme and dissimulate amongst yourselves, the bidding in the hall roars to life. The appearance of the orrery has set the fine men and women in quite the tizzy, as the grand cosmological model of your world displayed all around you allows for little else of note to see. The first and hungriest of them charge in with opening bids, and you hear calls of 'thirty five thousand' followed swiftly by 'thirty eight', then 'forty'. Ghastor and a few of his attendants pace across the polished floors ceaselessly and at breakneck speed, furiously writing down the names of those who have joined tonight's game. The steward appears to be the one calling and confirming the bids, having taken over the reins from his master. All the long while, the elven performers have struck up a jaunty tune to accompany the growing madness.

"I am the very model of a modern Morgrave gentleman;
I've information venerable, damnable and criminal,
I know the kings of Breland, and I quote the fights historical;
From Orcbone Keep to Daskaran in order categorical..."

Over the course of the first few exchanges, you take note of the prospective claimants, several of whom are known to you and several who are not. A couple in the latest Wroat-cut fashion seem fairly serious about getting their hands on the artifact, as the wife - apparently they are the Imaradis, a minor noble house with blood ties to both Breland and Thrane - is the first voice you heard. There is another man you don't recognize, standing in much the same spot that Lycia Velacor occupied not too long ago. He appears to be securely sequestered off in his central booth, both entrances blocked off by the bulky silhouettes of the faceless white-clad Knights of Thrane. He has matched every bid made so far. Another masked woman at the edge of the light's promontory chimes in a few times beyond the opening flurry of bids, a clear contender. The final bidder is only familiar to some of you: the dwarven academic Drake Shardstone, who refrains from joining in early but raises the price floor by a few thousand every time he raises his hand. Neither of the magistrates seem keen on joining the fray, though they like everyone else watch with evident interest. Meanwhile, the musicians continue unabated.

"I'm very well acquainted too with matters super magical,
I understand the formulas both cantrip and fantastical -
About Siberyan theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news,
(Hmm, lot o' news... by Aureon!)..."

In the midst of all of this, the ambassador and his daughter stand apart. Though they are too far above the action to really hear, you get a good sense of what they're saying from their movements alone: Layla seems to be delighting in pointing out the various moons she knows to her father, who graces her with a patient smile and a few gentle corrections. The more perceptive among you, however, note that his eyes never quite stray from the auction. The guards at the base of the steps leading to their private landing have settled in, hands never too far away from their weapons, though one of them does move aside as Arrun approaches. The gate sentry ascends the steps steadily, taking up a post a respectful but close distance away. And the players play on - one of them winks at Drake in the process.

"With many cheerful facts about the wording of the Thronehold Truce!
I'm excellent with tinkering and never feel loneliness;
I efficiently design new plans for making a homunculus;
In short, in matters rationable, magical and lootable,
I am the very model of a modern Morgrave gentleman!"

The volume is rising, a ceaseless buzzing noise that threatens to drown you all out. Whatever is going to happen here... it's going to start soon.

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~6 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- "You're making a lot of assumptions Gryphon, but you are right about one thing at least - I'm not telling you everything. Nor will I, nor should I." She's not snapping, but she's also not backing down. "I've been honest with you about my intentions, I've been honest with you about my plans, and I've been honest with you about the current situation, because those matter to you - though given how you've spent the entire evening shmoozing for political points, I don't think they matter that much." She waves a hand dismissively, wafting away the excess concepts and any protestations like stale air. "None of us are entirely honest with the others, and I don't know why you'd expect that to change now. I'm telling you what you need to know." She has so many other things she could say, so many other points to drive the knife in, but this was in the greatest sense of the term neither the time or the place. "Of course I'm glad that there's going to be a riot. This is exactly the sort of situation I need. The alternative? A boring evening bouncing from person to person trying to suss out connections?" Kett snorts derisively. "This is far more likely to get me to Arano. If you want to help me, to actually help me, then get involved, and be ready to get out at a moment's notice." She doesn't point to any individuals, but her eyes do sweep over the hall again, pausing a hair's breadth on certain ones as her mind raced towards the inevitable point. She can't trust them to back her on the kidnapping. But she needed to give them something. "You want reasons to get involved? There's plenty. Pick your poison - protecting those you like, hurting those you don't, maybe you can even steal the Orrery away for yourself if you're lucky. Something that powerful would probably do Droaam or Throneport a lot of good I'm sure. Or distinguish yourself here to the right people, and I'm sure you'll get what you want. If you want something to focus on? Direction?" Here eyes point towards the north door. "Protecting the host is the most obvious, and word is he's going to head out the north not the south."

[CozJa]

As the discussion grows heated, and the auction with it, Arimart feels a sensation inside him. A rising rage for Kett words, and her clear direspect for the lives of others. His first reaction is to stop her, right here, right now, and if even Kleris is ready to support her plan, he must be stopped too.

But before he speaks, before he acts, something catches his eye. Drake didn't strike him as the richest man around, though he keeps making offers, in what seem to be strategic moments. After all an auction is not that different from a well thought out dispute at the Tribunal... at this very moment, the dwarf acts like a bid-rigger, but the goal of heightening the price doesn't look so convincing.

"Think Arimart, think!"

Looking around, the Paladin tries to ascertain the situation, and to recognize the sensation he feels inside.
The music keeps rising in volume, the bids keep getting higher, they are discussing with each other, a chaotic riot is about to happen...

Suddenly, something forms clearly in Arimart's mind, a shape of peril, something he felt before during the war, something that can never be really extirpated from humanoids' hearts.
"Strife! Chaos! What if...?"

He takes a long, deep breath, turns toward his friends and speaks, his voice now clearly that of the prosecutor, of the paladin ready to act.

"I won't support any riot, nor will any of us, until we're together." He looks sternly ad Kleris, clearly explaining his intended part of an unspoken deal.
"Miss Kett, I don't like where this is going, and I don't like your way of keeping us out of the loop, but I believe we owe you our trust, therefore you'll have mine for the rest of this night. But now... all this commotion..."
He points at the Orrery

"Gryphon, Kleris, you seem to have a better understanding of arcane machinery... can we be sure that the Orrery is not already channeling a manifest zone?"

[(Un)Inspired]

No, Gryphon responds to Arimart’s inquiry, the device has not been activated yet. But when, if, it does; everyone with 20 feet of the Orrery is gonna feel it. As he states this fact, he sizes up his own distance from the eldritch machine and steps around to Arimart’s other side. He listens to Kett’s speech, attempting to sift through her words to arrive at her goals.

So let’s be clear. You want this riot to happen, the help you want from us is to become involved, the best direction you can offer us is to protect the host, and you’re being honest with us about the current situation? If we, as your employees, were to obey your will then this would be your preferred course of action? So if, oh let’s just pick a name at random, “Arrun” up there decided to turn traitor and attack his master, and we stepped in and stopped him, we’d be following your orders?

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~6 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- Displacer beast was out of the bag, it seemed, for at least one of them. Ah well. It didn't change the circumstances. While she didn't want any of them to limpet to ir'Sencriss, they did still need an escort out of the building - Layla included. Her answer to Gryphon's probe is short, and to the point - "Sure, that'd be no skin off my nose." Whether that threw him off, confused him, or just served to reinforce his conclusions didn't really matter. Him protecting the host worked out fine, and they weren't Arano's target regardless. It might even work better than fine - it might be ideal if the Ambassador for Droaam was drawing attention right beside ir'Sencriss. All the more reason for the daughter to be whisked to a different safe place. Not that she voices such thoughts or lets them show, of course. "Your trust is appreciated, Arimart, though as I said, I'm not giving you any orders here. If you want to doubt the riot, well, it's just what's expected, I've got no guarantees, just suspicions. If it doesn't start, we shouldn't be the ones to start it, of course. That would be very foolish. If the auction ends peacefully then...well, so be it, we'll adapt." She shrugs, truthfully. They were going off of expectations - reasonable ones, mind you, but expectations nonetheless, and a flexible strategy was required in their line of work.

[GameOfChampions]

Sasks eyes flash with a hint of power and rage as Kett stonewalls them. Her obstinance was going to ruin everything! The changeling was done with this, he could turn the Prosecutor and the Ambassador on her with a few well placed words and then RIP the damn information out of her with a well placed spell. How dare she do thi-

Remember father...

Sask shuts down, he had made a cardinal mistake of the changeling. He let the agenda of the Changeling get in the way of the persona. Sask may have had his pride pricked here but Kleris wouldn't have, Sasks pride was bleeding into the persona. He remembered a lecture his father had given him once... before. He had been a young boy pretending to be a street urchin with his half blind drunk of a father. Some other urchin had teased him about his father calling him worthless and the like and a young Sask had started a scuffle with the other kid. His father had to pull him off and ater sat him down.

"Sask, you can't let the changeing bleed into the persona. Your rage bled into your urchins persona. He would have heard taunts about his father for years and earned to deal with them. Just because you don't like hearing something doesn't mean your persona feels the same way. Too much bleed over can casue al sorts of problems from breaking character to mental problems.

It had been a long time since he had thought of that, and something he had disregarded after the Clan had died when he was too focused on his vengeance. This was real though, he was making mistakes changeling children would make and he was better then that.

The irritation slides off Kleris' face. He sighs, shrugs, and playfully rolls his eyes "Well if you won't let me in on the secret I'll just have to follow along and enjoy the surprise. You wouldn't mind me sticking with you would you Kett? We make a pretty good team and I just know you will be heading into the most interesting parts of tonight. Besides you know I make a great distraction and I have the feeling if everything plays out like you said that could be helpful."

He turns to Arimart and gestures to Gryphon "Ya... what he said. I don't know anything about the artifact there but I did pick up some information I should share, I wasn't sure if I should but Kett said that she trusted you to be professional and finish this first. I heard this stuff about Nameless and some other tidbits"

He repeats the same preface and information he had passed along to Kett earlier. Hopefully building some good will for the women among the others would help repair some of the damage he had done with his persona break. He was sure she would play along if it benefited her... and if not then being caught trying to make her look good would just make him look good.

[CozJa]

Arimar isn't convinced by Kleris words on Kett, but understands his effort in trying to avoid confrontations, and appreciates it.
On hearing the information conveyed by his fellow paladin, the prosecutor raises his eyebrow, but is unconvinced.
"So it looks like people is talking about me enough to fabricate stories... interesting. I honestly doubt those things are true. But I better be safe than sorry... Gryphon, can you send a message to one of my contacts at Thronehold? That would eliminate any risk regarding Maugrim."

[(Un)Inspired]

Granny Mebsa would have told us if she was a Night Hag, right?

Nope, nope, no no no. There’s absolutely too much going on right now to worry about any of that being true. Better just compartmentalize that away and deal with it later.

Putting thoughts of Kleris’ revelations into a little mental box, Gryphon responds to Arimart. I haven’t prepared myself to create a Sending today. I could conjure an Unseen Servant to run a written message to Thronehold but it’ll take me 10 minutes to summon it. Alternatively I can fly about as fast as a horse can run, if you want me to deliver the message in person, but then I wouldn’t be here for... whatever is coming. If we can prevent Maugrim’s vivisection then I’m all for it. I’m rather fond of the old man after that last battle. Whether there enough time for conjuring, or if it’s better for me to fly or stay, I cannot say. My abilities are, as always, at your disposal, Prosecutor.

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~6 hours), 6/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: -- "I've no objections to that, do try to keep up though. I'm probably a little faster on my feet, even in this getup." She daintily flourishes one side of her dress at Kleris. In truth she didn't want him sticking too close either, but he was the most...potentially flexible of the group, so possibly the easiest to convince that taking the child was the right move, perhaps under the guise of escorting her to another safe location. "The auction may be concluding before you get ten minutes, and you'd probably have to step outside for the casting. A man incanting here may fray some tempers." Kett offers, perhaps slightly glad they'd moved off the topic of what she wanted them to do and that Gryphon was potentially volunteering his way off the board. "Shouldn't the Magistrates have some way to get in contact though?"

[CozJa]

"Good thinking" Arimart says after hearing Kett proposal. He turns to Gryphon "I don't want you to leave us right now, we may need your arcane prowess, and for what we know this hearsay could be nothing more than lies... However, I can ask the Magistrate. I'll be back in a moment"

As quickly as he can, the prosecutor reaches Evam Taralos, hoping that the auction hasn't already got his full attention. He leans colse to him, whispering in his ear.

"Magistrate, one of my affiliates has caught the rumor of a possible attempt on the life of Maugrim Nameless, possibly perpetuated this night. I doubt its truthfulness, but if you have any means to contact Thronehold, it would be better to do it as soon as possible. We cannot afford to lose a prisoner in our hall."


After he conveys the information, the Paladin goes back to his companion, intent on keeping both eyes on them, ready to react to whatever may happen.

[Starbin]

The dwarf wandered the floor, meandering in circles as the fervor of the auction slowly increased. Too anyone watching, his gaze appeared to be upward, fixed on the living map of the Cosmos. Of course it was nigh impossible to see his eyes behind a small pair of spectacles. However, beneath the glare on his glasses, his gaze swept across the room, high and low. He saw the man left to bid in Madam Velecor’s stead, focused on his task. Over there, the Prosecutor and his companions milling about. The band that Miss Kett had visited earlier continued to liven the crowd. He saw the Ambassador and his daughter upon the overlook. The dance upon the ballroom floor was a mirror to the rings above moving in and out of co-terminus. It was an allegory of the finest, where the manifest zones where political spheres of influence.

He heard the low roar of the crowd as he moved through it, punctuated occasionally by a shouted bid. He would join himself, occasionally; a single hand raise to stay within the top bid. His mind raced as he set his glass precariously near the edge of a table and continued to circle the room. He sought two separate prizes this night, but only had a line on one. As he neared the guards, there was a sound of shattered glass. He turned to glance, and accidentally pushed another guest into one of the Thrane soldiers. While those two exchanged a look, Drake murmured to himself and gestured, laying a veil of silence over the Thrane contingent. Even as he kept moving, Drake raised a hand and indicated six five.

---

OOC - Using several distractions to hide casting silence centered on Lycia’s proxy. Raising the bid to 65 while they can’t hear. Continuing to move slowly through the crowd, never breaking his stride
Sleight of hand - (2d20+6)[19][13](32)

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 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;
Weapons: shortsword (+5 / 1d8+2); shortbow (+5 / 1d8+2)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC
0 (x4): guidance, thaumatugy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x4): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, blindness/ deafness, locate object
3rd (x3): non-detection, speak with dead, glyph of warding, magic circle, clairvoyance, meld into stone, dispel magic

Effects: 60’ darkvision

[3SecondCultist]

Ballroom Blitz

Arimart sidles through the growing din to find his former discussion partner in the evening, one Evam Taralos. It doesn't take too long to find the man: he's in the middle of exclaiming the virtues of the Flame to a pair of socialites who, judging by the Fairhaven cut of their cloth and the fact that their eyes keep drifting towards each other, aren't paying him too much attention. In the perhaps quarter of an hour since the prosecutor left his side, it would seem as though the magistrate has been going a bit too deep on the signature cocktails, as he nearly stumbles and falls on his face before loudly protesting that 'he's fine, thrice-damn it'. When he sees Arimart coming, he raises his glass in a gesture of spontaneous vim that splashes a few thimbles of fizzy sapphire liquid down his front. He's still desperately trying to dab it out of his silk brocade when he gets the message about Maugrim.

"... but Nameless is in Thronehold Castle," Taralos protests initially, blinking blearily. "No, I mean he's in the castle. We have cells there to keep people until their trial. Our security is of the highest order, vouchsafed by the vaunted Throne Wardens of House Deneith itself. Or are you doubting the honour of the fearless Colonel Therin?" He punctuates the raising of his voice with an imperious glare for Arimart, which collapses almost immediately into pitched laughter.

"Flame help me, I couldn't even get though that one with a straight face. 'Honor of Colonel Therin', hah! As if the man has any..." he trails off, leaving it up in the air if he even understood the request to send along the message.

All the while, the auction appears to be undergoing its final crescendo of the evening. Of the forest of interested buyers, most have been felled and cast aside, leaving only three major contenders to stand in the proverbial sun: the man with what remains of the Thrane knight escort, the Imaradi couple, and the dwarf Drake. The first two have gathered small coteries of people around them - assistants, other minor nobles, and others eager to be close to the action. Drake, on the other hand, proves once more that he can be patient with his bids. He appears alone, and although many watch his movements he seems to have some free reign over where he goes.

When Ghastor calls out the bid for sixty thousand, the pitch in the room rises to an almost intolerable level. Even for a crowd such as this, that kind of sum would be princely. One would need to sell off some land, or perhaps some precious family heirlooms, to approach making that kind of deal. There doesn't even seem to be any thought of counterfeiters, either, not since Ghastor's team have collected banking details from House Kundarak in advance from just about everyone taking part. It's in the midst of all this that Drake manages to subtly cast his spell, striding by and blanketing the entire Thrane balcony in blessed silence before he makes one last escalation on the price up to sixty five. The gesture is so quick and underhanded that of the rest of you, only Kett is able to catch it out of the corner of her eye.

"We have the gentleman from Sharn at sixty five thousand... anyone for sixty eight? Seventy?" Everyone is hushed now, watching and waiting to see if anyone else will go higher. The Imaradis shake their head, holding each other dejectedly. It takes the Thrane contingent less than a minute to figure out why their voices have fallen silent. Anyone paying attention would pick up on the sudden drop in noise, followed by confusion, realization, and rage. Yet a single minute can change everything. Ghastor - after looking up at Danilos, who gives a little smirk and nods - raises his hand and holds up three fingers... two fingers... one... and Drake has won the auction! Immediately the room breaks out into a round of enthusiastic applause. All eyes have turned to the dwarf now, with several offers of congratulations and some more free drinks headed his way. However, before that can happen Ghastor approaches and produces a Sivis notarized deed of sale, inviting him to climb up the stairs and introduce himself to the ambassador and his daughter.

" - an outrage, my lord! How dare you allow this farce to conclude in such a manner?! One perfidious dwarf does not get to claim this prize through some underhanded trick!"

The reverie of celebration is broken as the man from Thrane, having since figured out what's going on by watching the crowd and emerges from the bubble of supernatural silence. Red in the face from shouting ineffectually, he stops to catch his breath in the shattered-glass shock of the hall. "What manner of hospitality is this, ambassador, that a fair auction should be won through magical subtleties and what's worse, you allow it to happen! My mistress made you, ir'Sencriss... and she can take everything fom you just as easily." The aggrieved courtier snaps his fingers, and all four of the knights spring into motion. Two of them start to push violently through the crowd on the floor towards the base of the orrery, while one more accompanies him as he begins to make his way towards the western staircase up to Danilos. The final armored escort, unfortunately, is headed right for Drake and Ghastor, barreling through a noblewoman and stepping on her hand with a mailed boot in the process. A mangled crunch and a scream echoes through the hall.

The assault and ringing of steel being drawn is the call to action that most of the partygoers didn't even know they were waiting for. Though there are many who still drinking and only now catching up, there are a roughly equal amount who are already moving away from the likely site of fighting and towards the exit. Yet as most of the crowd has been watching raptly to the uproar, they haven't noticed that the music has died away at some point in the last few minutes. By the time they notice that something else is amiss, it is far too late to intervene. All three of the elven musicians, who have all evening been playing a variety of fine pieces, have one last song to play. Accompanying their glamour-weave appears the outline of armor and weapons, all previously hidden through careful illusion. The two instrumentalists in the Phiarlan trio begin to play notes in a different key. All across the floor, eerie phantasmagorical lights appear, shifting chimerically in hue and attitude as they dance in and around the heads the various guests and serving staff. Just about everyone in the sphere of the lights seems bewitched by its presence and stand perfectly still... and you are caught squarely in the middle of the spell. While most of you are able to stay in your right minds, Kleris' strength of will fails and his eyes stare off glassily into the playful nothingness around him.

Spoiler: OOC - Start of Combat

Show

Map of Solstice House Hall

Here we go, folks! We've been building to this combat for a loooooong while, and it's finally here. It starts with some good news and some bad news. The good news is that 3/4 of the party on the dance floor passed their initial saves against a really nasty incapacitatory spell, the bad news is that all but one of your characters absolutely flubbed the initiative roll. As a result, you are essentially denied a 'buff round' and will be thrown right into the fray as is; the dice were just not on your side this time.

For the upcoming round (Round 1), Gryphon is the only one who can go first. Nobody else got above a 10 on initiative, which is the count that I'm having everyone else act on because I can't be bothered to roll a dozen times just to average it out. At the moment, Drake is with Ghastor up on the middle landing near the guards being charged by a knight of Thrane, and the rest of you are on the floor caught between the other knights and the performers. Unless the situation is rectified in some way, Kleris will also be incapacitated for 1 minute and his speed drops down to 0; he'll be out of the combat entirely.

Once UnInspired gets Gryphon's Round 1 post up, I'll post for the rest of the room and then we'll do our usual semi-block.

[(Un)Inspired]

As the elves play their new song and fantastical lights appear around the dance floor, Gryphon clutches his right wrist with his left hand, his right hand open and facing upward. The elf’s spell drains harmlessly into the wizard’s palm, like water swirling down a drain, till nothing of it is left. Not a bad melody, but I preferred your flamenco.

Gryphon closes his eyes for just a moment longer than a blink. He concentrates on the feeling of being in his body and exhales slowly. When he opens his eyes he can see the flow of magic in the world that encircles and connects all living things as he enters a Bladesong.

Feeling a bit conspicuous out in the middle of the ballroom, the Khorovar paints an invisible X through the air with his right hand and promptly disappears.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Gryphon casts Counterspell, starts a Bladesong and Casts Blink (rolled for Blink on discord). He can still see everything within 60’ of him that goes on in the material plain.

Unless otherwise stated, Spritz is using his action to make Perception checks each round to keep aware of everything going on.

Spritz’s Perception Check: (1d20)[14]

[3SecondCultist]

Thanks to Gryphon's timely intervention, the colours that surrounded and entranced Kleris fade away, the magical energies of the spell siphoned out of existence. However, that also allows the nearby knight free to return to his senses. Paying none of you any mind, the plate-clad warrior charges the nearest Phiarlan performer at the base of the orrery itself, though she turns to meet him steel in hand. He takes two swings with his massive sword, and she manages to dodge the first blow and block the second by twisting just out of the way at the right moment. Sliding into a fluid duelist's pose, her knife morphs into a blade with a longer reach and she flicks it up into an expert swing, catching the knight at the shoulder first and then under the arm, drawing a bit of blood with both cuts. "Lyrei," the now blade-wielding lead singer cries, "get the orrery ready to go. And Siora, we could use a little more help!"

The back-up instrumentalist, whose initial attempt it was to stupefy the lot of you, scans her surroundings and chooses the most prominent target. Arimart, whose features and armored profile are impossible to miss, sees the beautiful magenta-clad vision sashay right on up to him. "Hello handsome," she murmurs to him sotto voce, "these louts don't know how to treat proper ladies. Why don't you show them what a real man looks like by keeping my friends and I safe?" She completes her spell with a delicate flick of the fingers. In that moment, Arimart is hers.

All around you the ballroom begins a sharp descent into madness in a mere handful of seconds. What was once uncertainty and confusion on the part of this evening's guests has turned right into fight or flight. As a result, nearly everyone who isn't otherwise engaged in some sort of conflict is turning tail and running for the doors. Most of the guests avoid the tiled floor entirely, choosing to use the arcades on either side in a frantic press of flesh and fanciful fabrics. What they remain behind is a battlefield fraught with riven allegiance, as the rest of the forces from Flamekeep make their move. The attendant lord - the very same who just called out the ambassador - stands behind his nearest enforcer as he starts to carve through the guards at the base of the western stairs. Meanwhile the last knight reaches Drake, taking two wide swings with his blade that both just barely miss the dwarf.

And then, of course, things get worse. Witnessing the many-angled fight unfold before him, the ambassador holds out the control mechanism, turning it to face a particular side. He smiles, showing Layla the button before pressing it with aplomb. Above and around you all, the orrery flickers with a molten orange glow as the moons themselves are afire, and there is a hissing sound as the golden rings move to form a singular alignment. Even though you stand just beyond the radius of the artifact's manifest zone, you feel an immediate sense of heat and pressure that emanates outward from the artifact, as though you were all caught in a Ghallanda cookpot. A dull glow pulses outwards from the orrery's core, which cracks the priceless marble to reveal multiple rifts into pools of molten rock. The very air shimmers, wisps of flame flickering in and out of existence on a whim. One poor bystander, who is previously caught in the spell woven by the Phiarlans, doesn't stop smiling even as the ground crumbles around him and he tumbles facefirst into the magma below. It's impossible to miss the sound of his body being enulfed, or the stench of sizzling meat. You also notice that there are shapes moving beneath the surface of the lava, and wonder if you will have more company presently.

"Stay this madness!" comes the voice of Evam Taralos amidst the chaos. The Thronehold magistrate stands alone, well within the radius of the new planar boundary and not too far away from another such pool. Sweat forms on his brow as he struggles to stay on two feet with a drink still in his hand. "If you all stop now, I can get you sent to Dreadhold instead of the executioner's block!" You cannot be sure if he's shouting at the knights, the bards, or the ambassador himself, but it's clear that nobody is listening to him.

Spoiler: Round 1 OOC

Show

Updated Map

Some things are happening, but only a few are happening to you directly. Most of the bystanders are basically trampling themselves over to get out, save for those that are still incapacitated from hypnotic pattern. The Thrane noble and his knights are forging on, one fighting and killing a guard, another trying to hit Drake but missing on both greatsword swings, and the third engaging one of the Phiarlan performers. The Phiarlan performers are doing a pretty good job of staying out of harm so far, with the lead singer turning on the one knight and the other instrumentalist successfully charming Arimart and requesting his help to protect them from danger. Arimart is considered charmed for 1 hour or until the spell disappears.

And then, of course, things get even more complicated. Ir'Sencriss is turning on the orrery's manifest zone function, attuning it to Fernia, the Sea of Fire. Bits of continual flame are being spontaneously generated out of thin air, and three rifts of elemental lava have opened up on the floor (engulfing one poor incapacitated bystander who didn't even get a save to move out of the way). And you can definitely see things moving in those rifts.

So... your turn! I'm excited to see how each of you ramps up the chaos in this scene.

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~6 hours), 4/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: Darkness "Can't say I didn't warn you." Though she didn't have this specific situation in mind for the riot, it was close enough. She's not speaking to anyone in particular at this point, just musing out loud while she ascertains the next step. The screams should cover her casting for the most part, and those that do hear her are probably not going to be listening all that intently to begin with, what with the elemental fire threatening to engulf them all. "If you're following, keep up, we're going to clear an exit for the host and the kid." She pats Kleris on the shoulder as she streams past him. She couldn't worry about Arimart's apparent fondness for the phiarlans at this point. As long as he was killing off the knights it'd be fine. It's fine, let them get the orrery. Despite the recent problems with her and her House, if Arano got his name cleared then having it on their side would be a net-win. Still down on the dance floor, she incants the chant to summon darkness - it would shield Arano from others just as much as it would shield them from ir'Sencriss' spells. It appears first as a globule, inky black, undulating in the air for just a moment before expanding in an instant to completely subsume the host, the birthday girl, Arano and, of course, Gryphon's gift. With that done she fades into the shadow herself, vanishing for just a moment before appearing behind the knight that was trying - and failing - to lay into Drake, posing as a momentary distraction while she continues on her path to her husband. Spoiler: Actions Show Move: South, slightly, Action: Cast Darkness using 2 ki, centered on ir'Sencriss' square. 15' radius sphere. Bonus Action: Shadow Step behind the knight fighting Drake.

[CozJa]

Just as he comes back to his companion, unsatisfied by magister Taralos momenaneous inability to act, everything happens.
The paladin touches the handle of his hammer, considering how fast to remove the bond, then tries to ascertain the situation.

"By the Flame! Someone cast gust of wind on a latrine... The knights are fighting the guards, that means that noble is definitely not a friend of ir'Sencriss, and those damned Phiarlans tried to hypnotize us! They are the usual rubbish! Need to..." as he thinks, two voices interact with him, almost instantaneously, first Kett says she wants to protect the little girl, something strange coming from her, but maybe she is a good woman after all... then, one of the Phiarlans looks like... she may be another good woman, definitely more than Kett can aspire to be, and if he believes in redemption for her, why not helping this other one? Surely she must be in need of help!
"I will help you lady, but you must tell your friends to adopt non-lethal procedures, that's how we do things here, else I won't be able to save you from the might of the Tribunal! What's your goal? Are you here to save the young lady too? Let me know and I will guard your back!"

As he speaks with Siora, an explosion catches his attention; Arimart turns and sees the eruptions from the ground burning one of the bystanders, than he notices magistrate Taralos shouting. His eyes widen, his mind quickly scans for peril and he prepares to act to save his colleague... but something in his mind, or in his heart, tells him he must choose another path! He must give the phiarlans a chance to prove themselves this time.

"Magistrate!!! Run behind you!" he shouts, then looks Siora in the eyes. "See if you can help the magistrate escape, I'll go help your friends!"

As he says this, he ignores the woman, sure that she will find the best way to save the magistrate, then he looks at the Phiarlan fighting the Knight. The paladin takes off his shield, braces it, and runs toward them "I should be able to save them both!" He thinks before acting.
With as much swiftness as he can, the paladin runs toward the fighting Kinght and Phiarlan, maneuvers around them, and tries to divide the pair by hitting the knight on the flank with his shield.
"You must get out of here! The area around the globe is a trap!"

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris shakes his head, blinking sleepily for a second before the world snaps back into focus. The spell had caught him off guard and now he was taking in the chaos around him. It was worse/better then he had even thought. He turns to thank Gryphon for his aid in breaking the spell but doesn't see the ambassador anywhere. He turns to the others just in time to catch Kett leaving towards the balcony and Aeimart succumbing to the spell of those foul insidious bards. Never trust a caster who uses an instrument!

He wavers for a second. Go to the balcony, follow Kett as planned, or chase after Arimart. He couldn't stop the spell, Arimart was charmed now for better or worse. He moves to follow Kett, he needed to be up there to see what was going to go down.

That didn't mean he couldn't leave a parting gift for these 6 cursed fools though. His eyes bleed purple arcane power as he taps into his Patron, Mecuria the Dusk Sliver. The need for vengeance, showing them the cost of bringing him under their mind magics. "Suffer the Cost of your Transgressions."

Shadows fluctuate around Siora just before Kleris conjures two balls of purple energy to shoot towards the elf.

After the shot Kleris turns around to face the balcony, suit coat transforming into the standard armored leather trenchcoat he usually wore. The coat flapping around him as he quickly runs forward. Coming to a stop just before the stairs.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Bonus Action to Hexblade Curse Siora.

Eldritch Blast Siora as a standard action.
Blast 1: To Hit: (1d20+7)[9] and Damage: (1d10+7)[11]
Blast 2: To Hit: (1d20+7)[15] and Damage: (1d10+7)[15]

Move action 30 feet will bring me to the stairs leading to Kett and Drake.

Free item interaction to switch the look of the armor.

[(Un)Inspired]

Floating ethereally, Gryphon observes the utter chaos that erupts back at the party. I step out of reality for 5 seconds and everything goes to Khyber. He scans the room, watching as Kleris rains dark magic upon one of the elves, Arimart succumb to the same elf’s enchantment, not one but two magistrates imperiled, and Kett teleport through the shadows.

Gathering his thoughts, he gives a short exhale, nods to Spritz, and blinks back to the material plane, directly behind Siora. He concentrates while scanning the room to confirm everything is as it appeared on the ethereal. He pauses a moment for some mental calculations, before raising his right hand.

He draws his hand from his left side across his body till his arm is completely outstretched to his right. He curls his fingers into a grip and as he does so an Ivory Longsword handle materializes in his hand. As soon as he closes his hand entirely on the handle, a blade of energy so dark purple it's almost black bursts forth.

Keep your magic out of the mind of my lawyer! He brings his energy blade down hard twice, chopping at the back of her neck.

The moment he finishes his second slash, he once again blinks out of existence.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Attack 1: (1d20+5)[25]
Advantage: (1d20+5)[18]
Damage: (3d8+2)[18]
Crit Damage: (3d8)[6]

Attack 2: (1d20+5)[23]
Advantage: (1d20+5)[25]
Damage: (3d8+2)[16]
Crit Damage: (3d8)[18]

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Upon winning the auction, Drake took a slow breath, approaching the stairs slowly with a short wave to the audience. He allowed himself a small smirk at the apoplectic fit Lady Velancor’s proxy was having, but didn’t begrudge the man. Drake had tricked him, and he was well within his rights to be mad. However, as he watched the man rage, he knew there would be more to this evening than magical shenanigans. Even now, the man was playing his hand and calling his knights into action.

Violence so soon? You move to early and overplay your hand, my friend ...

His assessment was not wrong, as the musicians attempted a more subtle entry into the brewing conflict (Phiarlans, unless I miss my mark ... ) their mind-clouding efforts successful against a great many partygoers. A number of individuals also joined in. Lady Kett, Master Arimat and their companions? Interesting ... but is the Prosecutor aiding the Phiarlans? That would explain his association with Kett ... she must be one of them, if with less slink and away than I would normally expect ... Adding to the chaos, the orrery came to life and brought hell to the ballroom. Well, Fernoa at least. And a ball of darkness envelopes the Ambassador ... and Drake’s prize.

Drake sighed inwardly. He prided himself on his ability to prepare for most contingencies; his plans had seemingly earned him a victory in the auction. Failing to plan often meant one planned to fail. However, if he had learned one thing, it was despite your best laid plans, your opponent’s also have a vote. This is when your adaptability and improvisation would be key ...

As the Thrane knights moved to intercept and attack, he tended, slipping to the left , then ducking the two blows his antagonist tries to land. Even as he dodged, his eyes swept across the battlespace, seeking opportunities to create conditions for success.

Lady Kett offering a tempting flank on this fellow ... pools of lava, and elementals soon coming, unless I am mistaken ... enchantresses moving, but on the orrery or the Ambassador? ... a sphere of darkness ... and what was it Velancor’s lackey said? Oh ... yes ... that might just work ...

Clearing his throat, Drake placed one hand on the symbol at his neck, eyes seeking out the leader of the Thrane contingent. After a moment, a smile spread on his face. Raising his voice above the chaos, he called to Ghastor.

Lord Firam, you realize you are jeopardizing years of effort by Lady Velancor with this ill-timed call to violence, but you have a chance to still be a hero. Something stirs within the depths of these fires. Withdraw your noble knights and see to the safety of these citizens!”

---

OOC - Using read thoughts to influence Firam.

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 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 1/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2, Knowledge o/t Ages, Read thoughts)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC
0 (x4): guidance, thaumatugy, toll the dead, mending
1st (x4): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, blindness/ deafness, locate object
3rd (x3): 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]

You scatter across the length and breadth of this strange new battlefield, actions taken and plans enacted. As the temperature rises, the bubbling pits of Fernia ripple outwards to engulf the very spaces around you. Down on the floor, the Phiarlans take stock of the changing situation, calling to one another in some trader tongue that is not elven. "Sorry?" the bard named Siora replies to Arimart eventually as the charmed prosecutor asks for a favor. "You mean him?" She points at the still-swaying form of Taralos, who has only gotten closer to mortal peril. When Arimart confirms it, she brings two fingers to her mouth and lets out a sharp whistle in that direction.

"Magistrate!" she calls out, and the searing air bends to the pressure of her voice as if to a wilful lover, "you're in grave danger. If you'll permit, I would suggest that you follow the rest of your peers and - " But Siora doesn't get to finish her spell, as she is forced to dodge out of the way of a coruscating violent blast of energy sent by Kleris, only for its immediate successor to connect with her chest and force the air out of her body. She nearly falls over before righting herself, looking to her friends to decide on a course of action. The blade-wielder and knight remain locked in combat, Arimart's intervention to try and push the latter away failing as the hulking fighter clears the space between them with a great swing of his own sword. The arc goes first for the singer's head - though she ducks underneath it ably - and carries on its momentum to crash into Arimart's side, crunching into his own armor and drawing blood. Meanwhile behind them all, the third member of their troupe has produced a large bag whose cloth is a woven night sky, unfolding it point by point on the floor.

None of them are expecting Gryphon's re-entry into the fray. The bladesinging wizard, back from his momentary hop into the Ethereal Plane, takes a moment to look around, his trademark weapon forming in his hand. Before anyone else has a chance to react to his presence, he charges the leader of the Phiarlan band, swiping out with two perfectly placed cuts that pass under her guard while her attention is divided. Though the weapon leaves no mark behind, the light in her eyes dims as she lets out a hideous scream. She turns to retaliate but Gryphon is already gone, blinking out of existence for a second time. With the last of her strength, she holds off the knight with a flurry of furious strikes, though only one manages to pierce through the thick forged plating around him.

At that very same moment, Evam Taralos falls. The magistrate, who was already standing far too close to harm, turns to listen for Siora's voice when she calls for him. While in the process of moving, he appears to trip on his own two feet - most likely the result of an inebriated lack of balance - and tumble forwards, pitched headfirst into the nearby flow of molten rock. He tries to hold out his hands to reach out for something, anything to grab a hold of, but it is futile gesture. His eyes lock with Arimart's in his final moments, and then he is gone.

Meanwhile, Kleris makes it to the base of the stairs to see Kett engaged with the knight who charged at the dwarf. Drake does not seem too keen to stick around to be gored by a greatsword, doing his best to extricate himself from the combat entirely and taking a slash to the back of the knee for his trouble. Hobbling with a speed that belies his outward elderly appearance, the cleric makes his way closer to the leader of the Thrane host. Reaching into the depths of his mind, Drake emerges with a name... and the means to compel the man to leave the field. Calling out for 'Firam', the priest tells him to take his forces and withdraw. Firam pauses, doing his best to ignore the call only for his face to twitch and then slacken.

"Followers of the faith," he declares to the room, his voice breaking at full volume, "follow me out of this place! It isn't worth the senseless death. Let us leave this man's house together." The lordling beckons to his armed escort... who does not move an inch from his position.

"But we already have our orders," comes a raspy voice from within the shadows of the visor. "'Get the orrery at all costs', I'm sure that’s what she said." Almost predictably, the moment that Firam tries to get out of the way the knight's mailed fist rises, crunching straight into his face and sending him sprawling in a mess of blood and teeth onto the marble floor. Wasting no time, the knight doesn't even turn around as he continues to carve through the wall of flesh and house livery in his way. Though the guards put up a valiant effort, they are no match for a moving fortress in plate armor. His counterpart near Kett does much the same, shrugging off a litany of blows and putting down a man for near every reply given in kind.

At last, two people emerge from the pattern of numinous shadow: the guard Arrun, who has Layla under his arm. He is leading the girl towards the stairs down to Kett, yelling at Ghastor to attend to his master. There is no sign of the ambassador, but both Kett and Drake notice the blood on the pommel of his sword.

But there's no time to appreciate those circumstances, as a low rumble shakes the foundations of the hall. From the depths of the pools, the preciously unseen forms begin to surface. The first two are roughly humanoid in appearance, though they resemble crouched goblins more than humans. They have cracked orange skin, through which a faint pulsing glow can be seen, and let out a series of sharp hisses and clicks. The final form is something a bit different: not a solid shape so much as a cloud of living fire that extends upwards at least ten feet in the air. The only impression that it is not a natural phenomena is the vague outline of the lines of a face, with a pair of white-hot pinpricks for eyes. Its gaze sweeps the room, before settling on the elves and half elf at its feet.

Spoiler: Round 2 OOC

Show

Updated Map

Some more developments this time around. Arimart takes 11 points of damage from the knight he's in combat with, while Drake takes 12 from an opportunity attack as he leaves to try to compel Firam, the Thrane underling. Unfortunately, both Drake and Arimart are also largely unsuccessful at their stated goals here: the knights are still very much in play, and it's clear that Firam himself is no longer relevant to the situation. Gryphon did manage to nearly kill the one Phiarlan, but Siora knows better than to ask Arimart to turn on Gryphon. She's readying an action at the moment instead.

The rest of you are moving about or striking out at major enemies in more limited ways. Kett and Kleris are just moving and attacking, no issues there. Looks like things are going to be heating up on the dance floor with the elementals in play, which may lead to everyone down there dying, but who knows?

[Amnestic]

Kett Collier Human Shadow Monk/Rogue AC: 19 HP: 52/52 PP: 19 PIv: 13 PIs: 13 Conditions: Darkvision (~6 hours), 4/6 Ki Remaining Concentrating: Darkness All things considered, her side of things was going well - Arano had the kid, there was utter chaos to cover their exit, and if the blood was any indication then the biggest obstacle to leaving had been removed. At this rate she wouldn't even have to have an awkward conversation about her origins and affiliations with the rest of the team which, while she's not worried about such a chat, would have been very tiresome. Kett's not one to rest on laurels however, and they were still at least a hundred feet from freedom, never mind Mission Accomplished, and right now that meant making herself look like she was helping...which also meant punching this knight that had been menacing Drake. Though she wants to truly let loose, she does need to keep some things held back for later, so her tattoo powers will go unused - for now. She wasn't watching for Kleris anymore. Any help from him would be useful, but she wasn't going to rely on it. That'd get her killed. She pulls an arm back, before rocketing it forward like a piston at the knight's kidney, ignoring the armour that blocked it from her. It wasn't a weak spot of the armour, but it was a weak spot of the person, and that was what was important. She presses on, aiming her left at his other kidney, before slamming the heal of her dress shoes into the back of his knee. The last one wasn't a crippling blow but it might just knock him off balance, maybe get him focusing on her instead of the guards that seemed to be dropping like flies beset by...she didn't have time to think of a clever analogy. Flies beset by a flyswatter. Spoiler: Actions Show Move: None, staying place. Action: Attack: (1d20+8)[25] (1d20+8)[23] Damage: (1d6+5)[7] Extra Attack: Damage: (1d20+8)[18] (1d20+8)[14] (1d6+5)[11] Bonus Action: Martial Arts Attack: (1d20+8)[13] (1d20+8)[24] Damage: (1d6+5)[6] If any attacks hit she also sneak attacks for (1d6)[2] extra damage.

[(Un)Inspired]

Shaking his shoulders and cracking his neck, Gryphon blinks back into reality, only to have waves of magical sluggishness wash over him. Struggling to push through the effects of the spell, he reverses his grip on his Shadow Blade and thrusts it back into the injured elf behind him

Straining to speak through the spell, he calls out to Arimart. Taralos is down! We have to save Navel!

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Attack: (1d20+5)[22]
Advantage: (1d20+5)[17]
Damage: (3d8+2)[20]
Crit Damage: (3d8)[11]

Wis Save to shake off Slow: (1d20+3)[6]

[GameOfChampions]

Kleris huffs as he bolts up the stairs and too the side, he takes in the multitude of stuff happening on this level. The Dwarf that caused all this seemed to be making a leg, smart of him. Kett was duking it out with a knight and seemed to have that in hand, especially with the guard assisting her. The only thing that popped out to him as something worth noting was the guard with blood on his sword with the girl, 'Man I hope the dog didn't get killed 5 seconds after Gryohon gifted it.'

'Those that harm innocents cannot be trusted.'

He ignores Kleros as he examines the guard with the girl. The girl seemed scared and unsure but that's par for course in this situation. The more interesting part was the blood and the fact that her father was not the one with the little girl. Something to keep an eye on. Kett and he could possibly grab the girl instead to use as leverage for favors from the ambassador, say they rescued the girl from the chaos or something. Maybe the ambassador would know something about the mystery Arano. The other option was someone was that someone was pulling a fast one and trying to kidnap the girl for something similar.

They were too far right now though. He couldn't use anything from this distance except for his blasts.

The women screwing with Kleris was still there and ripe for finishing so the ambassador could move properly again, he needed to clear the floor before an elemental got him. He gathers power from his connection with the Dusk Sliver again and power gathers in his hands again before shooting towards the Bard bullying the poor half elf wizard.

Finally he calls on the power of the Traveler to protect him, everything was getting crazy and the spells flying around were game changers if they hit. Sadly the lack of allies near him made Bless a tougher call but a shield was always good. "My lord travels through the deeps and the wilds, though he travels far his will shall shield me from harm."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Kleris is moving up the stairs to the next level with his Move Action.

Blasting Siora again with Eldritch Blast.
Blast 1: (1d20+7)[19] to hit and damage (1d10+7)[16]
Blast 1: (1d20+7)[13] to hit and damage (1d10+7)[14]

Bonus Action Shield of Faith.

[Starbin]

Professor Drake Shardstone

Drake grunted in pain as the blade caught him on the back of the leg, but better than his head! But while he was able to avoid being pinned down, his gambit with Lycia’s lackey failed.

Ah, well played, Milady ... fool you once, shame on you ... fool you twice and you deserve what you get...

It had been worth a try, and certainly validated the level of Thranish interest here. Of course several more plot lines were in motion. The musicians had an agenda he wasn’t entirely certain of, but it certainly had affected the bystanders. And where it originally seemed to involve Arimart, it was clear that alliance had been temporary ... and likely magically induced. Lady Kett had an agenda, and it involved whatever was happening on the stairs with the guard and ... was that the ambassador’s daughter? His eyes narrowed at the blood on the blade and the lack of father figure in close proximity.

Of course all of this was played out on a back drop of hell on earth, complete with fire demons emerging from the lava pools.

Enough pontificating, old boy ... focus on the prize now, solve the puzzle later.

Slipping forward, to the wall ahead, Drake touch his symbol again, this time praying for guidance. When it came, he found the wall appeared to have several hand and foot holds he hadn’t seen earlier. Smiling, he moved forward to climb ...

---

OOC - Using knowledge of the ages to gain proficiency in Acrobatics and climb to the ambassador. Acrobatics - (1d20+5)[10]. Also Arcana - (1d20+8)[10] to id the creatures coming out of the pools

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC: 14 HP: 40/52 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 0/3 (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 (x4): command, identity, alarm, armor of Agnatha, cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x2): augury, arcane lock, knock, suggestion, silence, blindness/ deafness, locate object
3rd (x3): 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: climb proficiency (10 min); 60’ darkvision

[CozJa]

Everything happens so fast that it seems difficult to process. In just one moment, the knight who Arimart tried unsuccsessfully to move away from Siora's friend hit both of them, then Gryphon appeared out of nowhere and killed the elf, triggering Arimart's rage "No! We don't need to kill people!" Then, as Gryphon points the Prosecutor attention to Evam Taralos, the Half-elf has just enough time to see the magistrate stumble and fall, looking at him with a terrified gaze before falling into the flames.

A fit of rage passes through the paladin very soul, while Siora's grasp on his will is lost. He understand that the damned Phiarlan woman tricked and distracted him, and this may have costed the life of Magistrate Taralos. He'd like nothing more than to take his warhammer, send away the Knight who's blocking his path and charge at the damned bard, throwing her into the flames. But he has no time for vengeance, while so many lives are at stake, especially that of another magistrate!
As his left hand instinctively moves again toward the handle of his weapon, the paladin stops, looking at the Thranish warrior, who now stands alone before him.

"Knight! I won't fight. You and your group want to take this away?" As he says it, the paladin points his left index toward the Orrery. "I say we have more pressing matters right now" He points with his thumb at the group of hypnotized people behind them. "Help me get those people and your companion out of harm's way." He hesistates for a brief moment, as to give more weight to his next words "We all have our orders, and we all have priorities, I say we focus on the here and now; we'll decide who gets the firey demons summoning machine after we stopped it from summoning firey demons! Follow me, the manifest zone is not too wide, we should be able to take them out of it!"

Without adding anything more, he turns toward magistrate Navel's direction , mutters a swift prayer to the Silver Flame, and runs as fast as he can to reach her, hoping that taking her and the others out of the manifest zone is enough to take them out of the monsters reach. When he reaches her, He calls for the power of the Silver Flame again "May the Flame stand tall and protect those that are in peril!"

Spoiler: Actions

Show

He will leave the Knight behind, whatever happens, than full move and dash action to reach Navel. At the same time he uses his bonus action to cast Sanctuary on her.

[3SecondCultist]

Though the pitched melee in Solstice Hall has broken into a number of smaller, self-contained skirmishes, blood flows everywhere like fresh rain. On the central arcade, Kett performs her usual dance of athleticism, weaving out of the way of the cumbersome assault of her steel-clad foe and delivering strategic body-shots. Having fought this kind of opponent before, she finds that her hits are landing, but the size and mass of her opponent means that it'll take more than a few punches to knock him down for good. He misses her as well on the backswing, though he does manage to heft the sword with a grunt to slice through a poor newcomer's midsection, spilling guts and other viscera all over the fine imported stone. The monk's reinforcements do arrive, though rather poorly timed.

"Did he just... where did that armor come from?" Kleris, who has just now reached the top of the stairs, hears booted footsteps approach from behind. Two of the house guards, wearing the colours of your absent host, brandish spears in the direction of the 'half elf' rather than continue on to surround the rogue knight. "He's working with the Phiarlans, he must be another assassin! Get him!" Rather than wait to confirm any suspicions, both men immediately jump into action, lunging forward with clumsy thrusts that are easily deflected by the hexblade's conjured barriers.

Tearing down the highest steps, Arrun has Layla still firmly in hand, and everyone nearby bears witness to the child's plaintive cries. She tugs at her escort's arm twice, but he does not relent. "Milady," the guard says loudly enough to be overheard by those on the upper landings, "we must leave now. Your father will be alright, I promise you." He is all but carrying her, though his grip seems gentle enough. The blink dog Jaunt bounds in and out of existence at their heels, and though he could certainly outpace the pair, it seems that the pup has already imprinted on his new owner; he adamantly refuses to let Layla out of his sight.

On the floor, both Gryphon and Arimart adjust to their new realities. The prosecutor, still reeling from the sight of Evam Taralos freefalling into a grave of cinders, tries to convince the standing knight to desist, yet he is greeted with an impassive shake of the head. At the same time, Gryphon finds his every movement sluggish, forced to watch his surroundings move at normal speed even though his limbs feel as though they are underwater. Thankfully, with the duellist among the Phiarlan party dead and swiftly cooking, the elves' defense seem to have collapsed. Lyrei, who is in the midst of fiddling with the device on the ground, doesn't see one stray bolt coming her way, which clips her shoulder and sends her out into a spin. Cursing in her native tongue, she drops her opening illusory incantation in favour of disappearing from sight entirely to continue her work unobstructed. Siora, meanwhile, breaks into a full dash in order to follow Kleris' path to the bottom of the stairs. Above it all, the great elemental spirit looms, lashing out with tendrils of pure flame at its nearest opponent: the knight.

As a result of their enemies' confusion, both of the khoravar are able to make a prompt exit from a swiftly devolving situation. Gryphon comes to a stop alone just outside the orrery's radius on the eastern side, while Arimart rushes into the group of nobles just as they begin to awake from their enchanted stupor. Most of them emit gasps or cries to appeal to one deity or another - but not Adias Navel. Emerging from the grips of her incapacitation, the magistrate from Aundair looks out calmly upon her doom. The two mephits opposite the group flick droplets of liquid rock from their bodies and unfold their wings, dancing into the air. Their playfulness is immediately undercut, however, when both of their throats glow with a terrible light and they unleash jets of flame at the gathered gentry. Two are consumed instantly, fine clothes and flesh charred away into barely recognizable heaps of matter. One of them makes it a few more paces before collapsing, white hot necklaces and rings fusing all the way down to the bone as he dies.

Yet the flames never touch Thronehold's representative. Right at the moment before she would be engulfed by the same fatal blast, she holds out one harm in a vain attempt to cover her face and closes her eyes... and when she opens them, there stands Arimart Kaessel, badly burned but on his feet. The paladin has positioned himself in front of her perfectly, his body shielding hers. "Well done, prosecutor," she breathes, seizing the opportunity and turning to run right for the stairs and main doors. "Now be a good soldier and hold them off, will you? I will see to it that you're well rewarded for this!"

It's a good thing that she doesn't make it to the front doors right away. About half of the crowd has already passed through, running headlong into what looks like a faint drizzle, when one person pauses to turn and survey the scene. Across the space, Gryphon recognizes the luminous profile of Hetrion Niksar. Even as bystanders stream past him, he locks eyes with the wizard, giving him a single wink. Suddenly, the space between the angels' feet erupts into another curtain of flame at least twenty feet in height, barring all exit from the hall. This is no Fernian event, however: there can be no mistaking its source. In an instant, three more of the escaping nobility lie dead from similar wounds. Of Niksar himself, or anything on the other side of the new barrier, there is no sign.

Spoiler: Round 3 OOC

Show

Updated Map

As is expected in a set piece of this size, a lot is happening! I'm taking things area by area, starting once again with the floor. With Gryphon and Arimart no longer 'in the fight' and the main bard combatant dead, the priority shifts to dealing with the elementals. The last Phiarlan glamour bard (having been smacked in the face by Kleris' eldritch blast) drops her concentration on Hypnotic Pattern and casts Invisibility to cause maximum chaos to continue her business unimpeded. Meanwhile the Slowed knight ignores Arimart and charges the biggest threat... the flame elemental. He gets burned a lot for his trouble. The mephits are also flying upwards now, and two of them get off flame breaths that turn out to be lethal to everyone except for Magistrate Navel, thanks to Arimart's intervention. Arimart takes 20 points of fire damage from the combined pools.

Meanwhile, at the far end of the field the knights continue to clean house. Though the one fighting Kett doesn't land a blow on her, he does one-shot yet another guard, and a final one steps in to reinforce him. The second one carves through another guard and starts to climb the stairs towards the darkness and the ambassador, though he's followed by one more combatant. Drake tries and fails to climb the parapet up to Danilos directly, Arrun guides Layla and Jaunt halfway down the steps, and Kleris arrives on the scene only to get accosted by two more guards who saw him transform earlier and assumed he was another assassin. Siora also shows up at the bottom of the steps, but she double moved so can't cast a spell this turn.

Oh, and Hetrion is casting Wall of Fire to block off the main exit and killing a few people, all without using any verbal or somatic components.

Round: 3
Body count: 13