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  1. - Top - End - #61
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    NecromancerGuy

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Jemriah Cleater
    Aberrant Mind Sorcerer 3 | AC 15 | HP 20/20 | PP 11 / PIns 11 / PInv 10

    The tension in the room was already building. "You're right, Birel. I know nothing of how to weed out evil from a community. I can't even get it out of my own body. We didn't have these kinds of problems within Falcairn, only from without. Have any of you dismantled a cult like this before?" he lets the question hang in the air a moment, hoping everyone would stay silent to accent his point. "Perhaps they've placed hex bags beneath your beds. Perhaps they've stolen ingredients for their dark rituals from your homes. If the Chief stands in opposition to their goals perhaps they've poisoned his wine. No stone should be left untouched, though Selissa and the Chief have the right to preside over any search of their home. Misdirection is indeed a powerful tool. The mere mention of betrayal within this town already has us sniffing at each others' throats for a whiff of sinister intent or the irony tang of blood magic. Leave that for the wolves. We need to stay focused. United in purpose." He stands and moves nearer Set and Vargath.

    "Most of us are new to Dam'ess. We don't have a claim on the land like our Elven friends," he states, gesturing to Birel and Selissa. "No home to defend against strangers of the forest... or the road." He indicates the humans and half-orc. "No stake in the outcome beyond our own hides and the Chief's generous reward. But if we're to succeed against a group founded upon deceiving others, we need to make a commitment here and now to each other. At least among the six of us," he opens his arms to include everyone who answered the call for aid. He raises his glass. "I declare that until this deed is done, there will be no lies from me to you that in any way relate to the events about to transpire. Our past is our own, but let our future, at least for the next few days, be joined with this drink. My word is my bond." He waits, hoping the others join in his rallying toast.
    Last edited by miinstrel; 2020-06-23 at 03:17 PM.

  2. - Top - End - #62
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    He found himself drawn to the human with the fancy words, the one who was supposely too young to lead the endeavor. Jemriah might have young shoulders, but there seemed to be a wise head attached which could prove useful, especially with accusations already being flung to and fro between almost all present members. He grabs the nearly empty tankard from his seat and raises it to join Jemriah's. "I assure you all that I wish to see us succeed just as much as any of us. Wolves hunt best in packs, and I will do my part in our hunt." He wasn't much of a leader anyways, and a settlement he assume was mostly inhabited by humans would no doubt question the authority of an elf.

    He decides to try a different tactic to establish what he could bring to the endeavor. Make himself an asset instead of a liability. "If I may suggest, I can link several of our minds through my own so that we can communicate silently with one another during the searching, should anyone find something unusual or need sudden assistance. It's perfectly harmless, and the link only allows for simple communication. Your minds themselves will remain closed to me and each other." Those unfamiliar with the gift always were concerne about how much a psion could glean from any kind of mental connection, and if the group did harbor suspicions, he didn't want them thinking he could read minds.
    Last edited by WhismurWanders; 2020-06-23 at 03:43 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by fibericon View Post
    This seems like a really cool concept, so I feel like you're going to get a lot of applications. Best of luck sorting through them all. That said, I'm going to do my part to make your job that much harder by adding one to the stack.

  3. - Top - End - #63
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Birel Amastacia
    High Elf Wizard
    AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20
    PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    <"Far-sister? We could have been closer than that little one if you'd ever invited me over or accepted my invitations. At least now I'll finally get to see your home.
    As for your objection, two things. The first is that in the case the Chief was a member of this cult, the reason he would have to do things this way is he felt it was likely we were going to discover their existence anyway. If he could mislead us into clearing him of suspicion, he could then send us out on other tasks away from the town to keep us from noticing we had made a mistake until their goal was accomplished.
    The second thing though is more important to you and I. The people of this town are ever so distrusting of those unlike themselves. Imagine how much more fearful they will be after this? By making sure our homes are searched, we prevent them from conjuring up any extra fears about us later on. And by making sure we are a part of it, we make sure nobody decides they need to do so later and tear our homes rudely apart.">


    "I'll drink to that!" Birel replies to Jemriah, having no reason not to. The less secrets the others hid from her, the more of these interesting people she would get to witness. And her own secrets weren't closely guarded so much as just extremely difficult to explain arcane theorems and practices.

    Knowing at least about similar spells, Birel understood there should be no particular risk to what Fanlomen proposed and so replies, "That sounds like it would be very useful. Both in this endeavor and in future ones." She gives him a friendly smile, in the hopes that he won't think she's an overly harsh person due to her previous comment.

  4. - Top - End - #64
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    SwashbucklerGuy

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Set Al-Sayyid
    Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
    AC: 16 HP: 27
    PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    Nodding at Vargath's words, Set couldn't help but admire what he'd come to know about the half-orc in so short a time. He had to agree that everything Vargath had said sounded wise, even if he wasn't always the best judge of that. But Vargath's distinct lack of trust in anyone who could possibly be involved in the cult sealed it. Set knew that in this one lay another voice he could turn to, if not entirely trust.

    Set listens carefully to Birel and Selissa bicker in a language he knows passably well. Their speech is fast, but he picks up the gist of it, though he'd no need for Elven to understand that Birel had caught him lying.

    He ran back over his most recent web, trying to work his way back to some clue that would tell him where he'd ran afoul of her, but it was folly. He'd been on such a tear trying to cover for the boy's speech that he couldn't hope to remember if she'd reacted to any one thing in particular. She was terrifically blunt, and for that, Set was thankful. There seemed to be little risk of her hiding anything. If she dealt in secrets, she would no doubt have kept her knowledge that he was lying from him, if not the others.

    Likewise, Selissa may not have caught him lying, but he doubted she dealt in secrets. Her manner was too straightforward. She seemed inclined to put herself directly at odds with the group without having anything to gain other than their mistrust and ire. She neither sought their approval nor their trust and instead planted a flag where she intended to fall for her principles. Unless...was there something between her and Chief Moeller? No, no he'd made it clear enough they saw little and less of each other, hadn't he? Yes, that was stupid. She wasn't defending him for that reason. She is probably exactly what she appears to be. Honest, practical, and principled.

    That left only Jemriah and Fanlomen. Oh what a tangled web indeed. As Jemriah speaks, Set molds his face into a serious, thoughtful expression and leaves it frozen there throughout. The only sign of his anxiety is a clenching and unclenching of his fists as Jemriah steps closer, gesturing to him and Vargath to make his point. Set focuses every instinct on picking apart the young man's words, but he can detect nothing false about him. Could he really be speaking true?

    "I declare that until this deed is done, there will be no lies from me to you that in any way relate to the events about to transpire. Our past is our own, but let our future, at least for the next few days, be joined with this drink. My word is my bond."

    Oh for the love of...Set looks around to see a few of the others beaming, and has to cough to cover his expression. Jemriah was good, that was plain enough. Really good. As talented a liar as any he'd ever seen, and Set considered himself to be masterful. But he protests too much.

    As Fanlomen chimes in, Set imagines the link that already exists between him and Jemriah. Whatever else Chief Moeller may be, he wasn't stupid. He'd caught on quickly enough to all three of them, but where Set resisted his path, surely these two were joined in their desire to see the shadow awaken further and corrupt the minds of everyone present.

    "Your minds themselves will remain closed to me and each other."

    Of course they will. Just as Set's mind had remained closed to the Chief. There was deeper magic here than any Set had experience with and he'd be further-damned if he was going to open himself up to more scrutiny by a perfect stranger, much less one the Chief had called "...a great ally, or our worst nightmare." Set had no use for more nightmares. He would have to stay vigilant. But what to do about the toast? Others were already raising their glasses. He needed to act quickly, but how? He squirms for a moment longer as he realizes the answer. There was no way around it. To keep his suspicions his own, he would have to grant some of them his trust.

    Stepping forward until Jemriah is out of his vision, Set raises his tankard high, but keeps his voice calm and even as he addresses them in turn. "I swear to you," Set says, turning his eyes on Vargath, "you'll have the truth from me. You may have caught me in a lie," he continues, turning to Birel, "but you'll not catch me in another." Finally turning to Selissa, blinking just as his eyes would pass over Fanlomen, he says, "you have my word." Drinking deep, Set finishes his ale before turning to clap Jemriah on the shoulder and leaning in close.

    "Well said, Jemriah," Set lies quietly. Smiling down on the young man, he continues. "You're a a natural leader, no matter what Birel may say about your age," he says apologetically, as if to explain his need to speak privately, if only for a moment.

    Spoiler: OOC
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    Deception against Jemriah: (1d20+6)[20]


  5. - Top - End - #65
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Vargath listens in silence as the...group? party? exchange words and discussion silently. He hadn't expected any support, so that was a welcome surprise. Less welcome was the insinuation he might be placed in a leadership position, even if it was symbolic or for show. No doubt the locals would have a few choice words for an orcblood sacking their homes and rifling through their belongings. Not that it mattered. He'd do what needed to be done, whether they were thankful or not. He says nothing at Jeremiah's proclamation of honest intent. "ᛊᚨᚾᚾᚺᛖᛏᛖᚾ ᛁᚾᚾᛒᛁᚱ ᛏᛁᛚ ᛒᛖᛞᚱᚨᚷ." It seems silly, promising to tell the truth only while on this quest. The truth would always come to light, he'd learned. Lies just delayed the inevitable. Let the rot set into the soul. Still, he hopes that people will stay honest. Much as he wished it were otherwise, he does recognise that not all have his aversion to lying. If these words could compel them to speak the truth instead, at least for a while, it may do their hearts some good.

    The offer of a mind-link he finds disconcerting, but he finds it hard to justify a true objection to it. Communication in battle is key, and being able to do it silently even more so. It could well be the difference between their life and death. "I would prefer not to invite others into my mind if I can help it...yet for the sake of ensuring success I will consent to this. I have naught to hide." He glanced around at the room again, trying to measure their skills and abilities. The cocky witch who'd supported his plan seemed well-versed in matters of magic, but she was a local, which put her under more suspicion than she might have otherwise. Best to leave her with Set. "ᚲᛟᚾᚠᛚᛁᚲᛏ ᚠᛟᚱ Å ᚨᚢᛚᛖ ᚲᚨᛗᛖᚱᚨᛏᛖᚱ" Their mutual distrust would serve well. But...maybe separating the two locals from each other would be preferable, just in case. "To best exclude those present I propose thus: We first investigate the Chief's home in full, as a group. Once done, myself and Fanlomen assist in collecting these 'loyal' residents with the Chief to gather the townsfolk into the centre of the village while the remaining four verify Birel and Selissa's homes are free of immediate concerns." He stresses 'immediate'. No doubt they had some figurative skeletons stashed away, but as long as they weren't literal skeletons they weren't the priority. He didn't care what deviancies they indulged in so long as it wasn't a pressing threat.

    "Once we've excluded each other from suspicion we can begin searching the rest of the village. For safety's sake we should try to not separate into more than groups of three, supplemented by these 'locals'." He holds up both fists, counting up the fingers on each hand up to three. "Birel, Set, Fanlomen. Myself, Jeremiah, and Selissa." It should offer the balance of magical knowledge, while keeping the group's...disagreements with each other in check. It was just like organising a warband, except this time he knew essentially nothing about those involved and hadn't had to do so for the better part of a decade. "ᛏᚺᛖᛁ×ᛚᛚ ᛞᛁᛖ ᛚᛁᚲᛖ ᚦᛖ ᚱᛖᛊᛏ." He mentally swatted at the voice this time. It was getting a bit loud for his liking. Maybe they would die, but he'd stand in the way of it, if it came to that. The anticipation of a hunt was setting in. Not a normal hunt, but his blood quickened all the same. If they truly did accomplish this in one night, he'd down a barrel of the pisswater they called ale happily.
    Last edited by Amnestic; 2020-06-24 at 04:06 PM.
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  6. - Top - End - #66
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Selissa made another tch! noise. In a way that definitely wasn't at all petulant, she conceded to Birel with a final muttered comment.
    "<I'm not a little one. I'm taller than you. >"

    She hesitated before she gestured with her mug finally when Jemriah spoke. She didn't feel particularly bound by any oath, but if it made things work better she'd put up with appearances.

    At Vargath's final comments her mouth twisted, but she otherwise said nothing. If it got it over with, then it'd have to happen.
    And the far stars cried, and the planets yearned;
    But no man may know, for she'll ne'er return.

  7. - Top - End - #67
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Jemriah Cleater
    Aberrant Mind Sorcerer 3 | AC 15 | HP 20/20 | PP 11 / PIns 11 / PInv 10

    He hadn't expected the compliment or support, and the last thing he wanted was to further divide the group. Birel's suggestion of Vargath's leadership made sense. He looked battle-hardened. Jemriah had no delusions about his middling figure. Words only get you so far... his mind drifts back to the scars upon his cheek.

    To Set he replies humbly, "You're kind, but I agree with Vargath taking charge of this task force. Every word he's uttered is practical and efficient, and I was quite honest in my inexperience with these matters. Pretty speeches don't win wars as often as everyone likes to think - experience does," he closes, sounding a bit like he's speaking beyond his personal experience.

    "I look forward to getting to know you two better as the day progresses," he adds for Vargath and Selissa.

    "<You and I will have to get more acquainted later to see if our demons share the same face,>" he adds privately for Set, the wispy mental image of the young lad lingering in Set's mind suggesting the connection remains open for the time being should any final comments before they all set out are desired.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Birel Amastacia
    High Elf Wizard
    AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20
    PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    <"Ah wonderful. She's in her rebellious phase."> Birel comments to Fanlomen as she rolls her eyes at Selissa.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Set Al-Sayyid
    Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
    AC: 16 HP: 27
    PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    Rather than voice his approval, Set simply starts thinking of Vargath's plan as the plan, and Vargath as the Chief's second. The crown of leadership was heavy, and Set had never looked on his brother's responsibility with envy. If he couldn't count on his own blood, Set could at least hope that Vargath was what he appeared to be. Furthermore, whatever Vargath may or may not suspect himself, he'd been shrewd enough to split up Fanlomen and Jemriah. Set couldn't help but wonder if he'd caught on to the same thing's that Set himself had seen. In any case, splitting up those too would at least give Set a chance to determine just how much they needed to worry about Fanlomen. He trusted Vargath could take care of himself should Jemriah drop the act. And he would have Selissa to help watch his back. Certainly she would have no love for Jemriah's mischief.

    For his part, Set was glad to have Birel at his side. She'd proven a sharp eye for deceit. That same ability to infer Set's own duplicity would no doubt prove useful if he could just direct her focus towards Fanlomen. It would be an incredible relief to just be able to focus on Jemriah, but from his behavior earlier and the Chief's own assessment, it would be folly to assume Fanlomen wasn't a pawn of the Shadowkeeper as well. Besides, the more he learned of Birel the less likely she seemed to be under anyone's thumb but her own. They were tasked with rooting out corruption in the village while having to deal with corruption in their midst. It did not seem likely that Birel would give herself over to a cult of the Pale Night anymore than she would give herself over to Him.

    Nodding and smiling to Jemriah as his skin crawls, Set responds inwardly, "<no doubt you and I will face the trials ahead together under His eye. It will be a particular pleasure of mine to know you better, Jemriah. For now, perhaps it's best if we focus on the task at hand,"> he responds, eager to disconnect the link between them amicably, but overwhelmingly anxious to sunder it nonetheless. Breaking eye contact he moves over next to Birel and Fanlomen, shooting the wood elf a sideways glance. Yes, he was thankful for the chance to investigate the wood elf, if only to get away from the boy for a few moments. He was toying with him, Set could feel it. The Shadowkeeper's laughter echoed in his mind, only now he could feel the boy's laughter echoing alongside it.

    Looking back and forth between the different members of their group, Set tries to relax. Some of these people might be able to help him. Others, he would keep his eye on. As Birel remarks on Selissa's immaturity to Fanlomen, he even manages to crack a small smile before swallowing it. Even if they were going to help him, they didn't really need to know he understood Elven, did they?

    Spoiler: OOC
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    Deception against Jemriah: (1d20+6)[19]


  10. - Top - End - #70
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Quote Originally Posted by Ramsus View Post
    <"Ah wonderful. She's in her rebellious phase."> Birel comments to Fanlomen as she rolls her eyes at Selissa.
    Fanlomen is slightly suprised at being let in on a joke between the two elves, given his being a stranger to the town. He answers plainly, <"You two seem close. It is good for her to have a mentor with as many years as yours."> Fanlomen found it difficult to tell the age of other elves, having only experienced his own ageless-ness compared to other short-lived races, but he could tell that this Birel was possibly a deal older than himself by the way she carried herself, and the tone she used to describe Selissa reminded him of the clan-mother. Knowing, wise beyond measure, but understanding and caring as well.

    He agrees with the proceedings of the plan laid out by Vargath. He seemed experienced in the hunt for cultists; a welcome trait in these times. Fanlomen's standard fare was fighting off humanoids whose evil was more on an interpersonal than a cosmic scale, or beasts who either threatened the balance of nature or were wandering too close to settlements and farmland. Something as conniving as cultists were beyond his current repetoire, but he would gladly assist in any way he could.

    The approach of Set (was that his name?) didn't escape him, but the wood elf had no quarrel with the foreigner, for the moment. Fanlomen attempted to recall what the chief had said about the man. 'A darkness. A curse.' Another soul doomed by the fates to carry a burden of power, he mused. Indeed, it could be said the gods were cruel to foist such suffering upon souls who didn't ask for the powers they received, but it was up to that person to make the best of their abilities for the greater good. An axe can cut through flesh by a raider's hand, but can fell a tree and build a home for a family just as well. One simply needed to mind the sharp edge.
    Quote Originally Posted by fibericon View Post
    This seems like a really cool concept, so I feel like you're going to get a lot of applications. Best of luck sorting through them all. That said, I'm going to do my part to make your job that much harder by adding one to the stack.

  11. - Top - End - #71
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Jemriah Cleater
    Aberrant Mind Sorcerer 3 | AC 15 | HP 20/20 | PP 11 / PIns 11 / PInv 10

    At Set's closing comment, Jemriah lightly furrows his brow in thought as he disconnects their minds. Him? he pondered. He'd never inferred any gender to the creature nesting inside him. Perhaps Set had just personified it? Or did he have a distinctly different passenger? Regardless, he was right. There would be time for this later after this first threat was culled.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    In the Oaken Larder

    "Alright, it seems we've reached an accord. I have nothing to hide, so my home will be open to your searches. I will order everyone in town to the square, but as I said this will take time. Give me a half hour to gather the men and women who will help you in your search and get as many villages as possible collected. I recommend half of you search the north and half search the south. We'll be at this all night if we do it right, and I expect it done right." The Chief begins to walk out of the tavern, but stops at the door. Without turning around, he speaks again. "There will be no mercy for any you find associated with Pale Night. Keep that in mind as your search. Anything you find will damn the soul who owns it. Don't take your duties lightly." Then he leaves. A few moments later, the large bell hanging over the town pump begins to ring, exceptionally loud and piercing. Within minutes, you can already hear murmurs and other sounds of people as the villagers come from the houses nearest the square, all wondering why they are being called.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    So this will all be boiled down to three investigation checks for each character. The first will be for the homes closest to the square, the second for the eastern quadrant, the third for the western. One team handles the northern side, one the southern. Rolls can be done in the OOC thread on Giant or in the Discord. Feel free to roll all three, but I will respond to each one for each team individually to give a chance to roleplay the search and what you find.
    The Bear is Back.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Set Al-Sayyid
    Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
    AC: 16 HP: 27
    PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    Set frowns at Chief Moeller's back as he leaves. Inwardly he thinks on the repercussions of what he's about to say for a moment before clearing his throat. No doubt saying anything that might go against the Chief's intent was dangerous ground, but he hoped the rest would see wisdom in his words. He needed them to. This is why he'd answered Chief Moeller's call for aid in the first place.

    "Far be it from me to disagree with anything the Chief has said up to this point. I'm not entirely sure he would even call it a disagreement, but," he says, letting the word hang for a moment as he looks around at the others, "when we do find members of this cult, I would like a few words with one of them." He allows a moment for his message to be heard before continuing. "Don't mistake me. I am not interested in being merciful." Far from it. "Nor is it my intention to put anyone here in any more danger than we already are by accepting this task, but I'm sure we can all agree that a live conspirator can tell us much more than a dead one." And if there was no sign of his sisters anywhere among them, then only a live conspirator could tell him what he needed to know.

    "Chief Moeller is right, of course. This will take all night and we can scant afford to take our duties lightly. The investigation has to carry on. But I beg leave to interrogate any we should be lucky enough to take alive. I feel I could be quite adept at uncovering more information from one captive than I might from all night searching homes.

    "I've said my piece. I will defer to all of you,"
    Set allows. Patience was something Set struggled with, but he wasn't in any position to strong-arm the others standing in this room. If at the very least they agreed to the wisdom of keeping one alive, Set could suffer the night to pass without being granted the freedom to interrogate them immediately. But he struggled to keep his face free of emotion as he hoped there would be no argument in trying to take a prisoner.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Selissa glanced at the other two elves, but said nothing until the chief spoke again.

    Once he had, one of the humans - what was his name? Sat? Sad? - talked about taking prisoners. It made sense, though Selissa had expected they'd be doing that anyway. Slaughtering those who had - even if distantly - had been neighbours for the past half a decade if they were unable to fight back would leave a bad taste in her mouth.

    Even if the Chief killed them afterwards, it wouldn't be blood on her hands.

    "Fine,"she said shortly.

    Without saying anything more, she retrieved her bow from its carrying case, and quickly restrung it. The bow had always been her weapon of choice, though a leaf-bladed sabre resting at her waist as well.
    And the far stars cried, and the planets yearned;
    But no man may know, for she'll ne'er return.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Vargath finally stands, ascending to his full height, chainmail clinking a merry tune as his muscled form shifts. "Speaking with the cultists may prove ill should they have half a wit to implicate the innocent." He left one thought unspoken - they were all assuming there were any innocent. "Have care with believing their words." Perhaps it was for the best that the drink in this place had been subpar. A clearer head would help.

    Seeing Selissa restring her bow, Vargath's hand drifts to his waist, to the axe that sits there to follow suit, but just as quickly decides against it. He could have it in hand quickly enough if needed. Instead he bends down to grab the shield that has been sat against his stool. A sturdy thing of wood and metal. Its face was painted, although the image itself was cut and faded in places from use. It was decidedly amateurish, having been done by urchin children - a pretense for him to give them some coin as a reward for "service". Still, he found the lopsided wolf's head with orc tusks, emblazoned with the university's sigil on its forehead quite charming, even with the extra paint splatters around it. Thick leather straps tied it to his arm and fist, ensuring none would take it from him. Probably better to start with a swift shield slam than his axe if they did intend to take at least some alive. Just for a moment, the Skye rune carved to the inside of the shield blazes to life in recognition of the connection to him. "ᛗᚢᚱᚲᛖ ᛊᚲᛁᛖᚱ ᚠᛟᚱᚲᛁᚾᚾᛖᚱ ᛚᛁᛊᛖ ᛗᛟᚱᚷᛖᚾᛞᚨᚷᛖᚱ." A cloud giant whispers to him, its airy yet deep tones instantly recognisable. Encouragement? At a time like this? A thin smile curves across his lips, grotesque to some thanks to his prominent tusks. Maybe this really would be worth it after all.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Investigation rolls in OOC thread: 5, 13, 9.
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    Iron Crisis IC | OOC
    Cyre Red IC | OOC

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Fanlomen nods and reaches out to the minds of the others; if the searching was to begin soon, it would be wise to give them a way to communicate without raising the suspicions of others. He gently brushed and prodded against the minds of Vargath, Birel, Selissa, and Jemriah before establishing the psionic link between them all. He mentally coughs to avoid startling anyone before speaking without moving his mouth. 'This should give us a private way to speak during the investigation. Hopefully there will be little need for its use.'
    Quote Originally Posted by fibericon View Post
    This seems like a really cool concept, so I feel like you're going to get a lot of applications. Best of luck sorting through them all. That said, I'm going to do my part to make your job that much harder by adding one to the stack.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Jemriah Cleater
    Aberrant Mind Sorcerer 3 | AC 15 | HP 20/20 | PP 11 / PIns 11 / PInv 10

    Jemriah nodded grimly at the Chief's departing words. It was a dark duty, but death of one kind or another was all but guaranteed on the sheet he plucked from a board in the town over that set him on this course.

    "I can help discern the truth behind any cultist's lies should we capture one," he assures Vargath and the others. And being involved in any interrogation would give him an opportunity to be around Set and perhaps learn more about his own infection.

    It was a strange sensation, having someone else force their way into his mind; usually it was the other way around. The link came easily to him though, and he responded in kind attempting to broadcast to the group instead of the single person he was accustomed to. <Can we speak to each other or only through you, Fanlomen?>

    Spoiler: Investigations
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    1, 2, 6 per OOC thread

    Last edited by miinstrel; 2020-06-27 at 10:31 AM.

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    Fanlomen knew the others could hear the question posed, but answered anyways. You all should be able to speak to and hear each other without my interference, so long as you don't dismiss the link.
    Quote Originally Posted by fibericon View Post
    This seems like a really cool concept, so I feel like you're going to get a lot of applications. Best of luck sorting through them all. That said, I'm going to do my part to make your job that much harder by adding one to the stack.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Set Al-Sayyid
    Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
    AC: 16 HP: 27
    PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    Walking over to his first table to collect his gear and his Favorite, Set brushes a bit of dust off the tip of his spear before turning back to Vargath.

    "You speak truly, though I would rather hear the lie and investigate it than hear nothing at all. But I agree, we must be wary. The words of a cultist are no substitute for evidence."

    Set breathes a sigh of relief as Fanlomen touches all four of the others, but not him, 'gifting' them with the ability to invade each other's minds. He watches as their eyes lose focus for just a moment, their thoughts turning inward as it becomes obvious there is some communication going on between them. For the first time, Set feels a tinge of fear at the thought of not being included, as they could hatch a plan together without his ever knowing, but it seems a small price to pay for their not being able to band together to bombard his mind.

    "I can help discern the truth behind any cultist's lies should we capture one."

    Ahhhh, of course. No doubt Jemriah had been dissatisfied with the split suggested by Vargath. He wanted to keep a close eye on Set, but he'd been far too shrewd to say so at the outset. Only now that Set had offered a slight deviation, one that may never come to pass, had Jemriah been able to pounce on the opportunity to rejoin him at some point during the investigation without the suggestion seeming out of place. Set's pulse sped up once more as he studied Jemriah with an outwardly calm smile. That boyish face hid a mind exceptionally gifted when it came to intrigue. Set gripped his spear just a bit tighter, clutching it close to his chest. If he wasn't careful, Set had a feeling Jemriah would be the death of him.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Birel Amastacia
    High Elf Wizard
    AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20
    PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    <"It's not just myself who is acutely aware our new friend Set was lying about the whole promise not to lie I trust? I don't think I've ever met someone so shady before."> Birel mentally communicates to the others.

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    Jemriah Cleater
    Aberrant Mind Sorcerer 3 | AC 15 | HP 20/20 | PP 11 / PIns 11 / PInv 10

    Jemriah has happy for the company. He'd been hiding from his shame, or repeating it, for over a year and having actual companions and a common purpose, however fleeting they may be, was a blessing. He hadn't realized how much he longed for connection these many months. Even now he could feel the parasite watching the many minds of this assembly assert themselves in the dark corners of his mind. So small, all of them. So young. He closed his eyes a moment, forcing the presence down into his bowels where it brewed, sending a wave of discomfort through his torso.

    <...I don't think I've ever met someone so shady before.>

    Perhaps too quick to jump to anyone's defense, Jemriah replies knowingly, <Go easy on him. A young man wrestling with demons beyond his control is not as easy, or unique, a thing as I once thought. There's a frightened soul behind his words if you give it time to show itself.> His eyes glance compassionately at Set, the slightest twinge of a smile, of comradery, crossing his face as they lock eyes a moment.

    Breaking the gaze, he steps back to his table, slinging his satchel back over his shoulder as he vocalizes to everyone, "Let's get on with it then. If this will take all night as the Chief suggests we've not the time for idle hands to do the devil's work as the saying goes. May the Father's swift justice be with us this night." He looks to Vargath, the appointed leader of this excursion for the nod of approval and follows his lead out into the fading light.

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    <Secrets will always reveal themselves, one way or another. Our minds are best focused on the task ahead.> He responds diplomatically down the link. He was disappointed that Set had lied. He was disappointed whenever anyone lied. But you can get used to disappointment, and he hadn't lied when he said he wanted their minds focused on the task ahead. They'd talk later. And perhaps he would see everyone's Truth when combat was joined. A lot of things melt away when your life is on the line.

    "Our preparations are complete." The half-orc's long powerful strides carry him easily to the wooden door, pushing it open with a creaking to the 'fresh' air outside. It was refreshingly cool in comparison to the indoors. Perfect to keep the mind alert. He holds there, turning back towards the room and beckoning with his shielded arm towards the Chief. "If you would lead the way. And the other two of course." It wouldn't do to leave the barman and his child alone. While he doubts the child is a cultist (witting or otherwise), there was always a chance. He threw a glance to the barman, who had been silent during the discussion. Unusual, but perhaps it was fear that gripped his throat - fear of an orcblood - more than deception. Secrets will always reveal themselves.
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    "<Let's go,>" Selissa merely replied over the mental link. Her mental voice was quiet, too, underlaid by the sound of rustling leaves.

    Those who would search her house wouldn't find much - a few piles of furs, carved wooden bowls, a cookpot, bags of nuts and dried mushrooms, the occasional broken arrow she intended to salvage the arrowhead from. Beyond that -a few keepsakes of strange horns and knicknacks. Wood elves - Selissa's people, at least - never settled for long, and rarely kept anything it would be troublesome to carry. That that was, was often left behind when they moved on from a site, or stored in clever stashes to be retrieved however many years later they returned to that part of the woods.

    Still, it would be an intrusion, and the lonely elf didn't look forward to it.
    And the far stars cried, and the planets yearned;
    But no man may know, for she'll ne'er return.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Chapter 1, Verse 1- The Cult


    Birel, Set, and Fanlomen

    Taking the north side of the village, Birel, Set, and Fanlomen, alongside three villagers chosen by the chief, begin opening doors and rooting through homes. First comes the Chief's house, one or the larger ones in the village. Before you all head inside, the Chief stops Birel with a firm hand on the shoulder. "Under the stairs you'll find a loose floor board. Lift it and you'll find a crank. Turn it three times and a door will open. Please be respectful of my sanctum." Inside you all find a simple and clean home, only marred by a dizzying variety of charms hanging from everything- the rafters, doorways, from the chimney, and in the windows. Birel and Fanlomen can readily identify them all as symbols of the Green Faith, from warding sigils against evil to amulets meant to attract good spirits. They form a low hanging canopy, and it may be your imaginations but they all seem to twist and twirl in an oddly mesmerizing dance. Some have bells or chimes attached, and the house is filled with a quiet, jangling music. The second floor hold a small attic bedroom with several framed charcoal drawings of a beautiful woman with pointed ears and a gap toothed smile. Other than this the home is unremarkable, but after Birel follows the Chief's directions, finding the hidden crank and cycling it three times, the floor boards under the stairs shift and separate to reveal an earthen stairwell down into a small basement that smells heavily of earth and incense. When you all investigate down there, you find a large, shallow silver basin surrounded by dried oak leaves in a simple pattern. There are shelves of books that all appear to be written in Sylvan, and all in the same handwriting. Set and Birel turn the pages a bit and find they are all books of rituals and rites of magic, both arcane and divine, for everything from sanctifying a grave to blessing a wedding. Set finds one ritual that summons the spirit of an ancient oak for the purpose of powerful divination, but the book does little to describe what limits there are to the being's knowledge. Nothing appears to be demonic, however, but while the other two read Fanlomen cannot escape the feeling that you are being watched, and he can hear the faintest sounds of whispers fill the air. It would be possible to spend days down here reading, but a woman's shout from outside ends your search.

    One of the Chief's chosen women stands outside, and she looks obviously shaken. "We found something. In Brent's house. Something... odd." Birel knows Brent Bergeron to be the local blacksmith, whose house stands opposite of the Chief's on the north side of the village. He has always been a deeply serious, quiet man, strong as a bull but gentle as a butterfly. The woman leads you all into his home as Brent looks on from the assembled group in the town square, eyebrows like furry caterpillars furrowed in anger. Inside, the two other men chosen by the Chief to assist in the search have removed a large bearskin rug from the floor in front of the hearth. Underneath, there lies a large symbol painted in red. Neither Set nor Fanlomen can identify it, and the symbol is full of spikey imagery and sharp angles, appearing to be vaguely menacing. Birel, however, has seen this symbol before. It depicts a scene of a massive mountain being split in two, with a rich valley emerging between the two shattered peaks. It is a common symbol of the faith of Harum, often carved into cathedral floors or depicted in stained glass. It would appear that Brent is a secret follower of Harum's faith, but the Chief's people are unfamiliar enough with that faith to mistake it for demonic imagery. "What does it mean?" The woman looks at Birel with fear in her eyes, and the two men who flank her look equally worried.

    No other homes in the immediate village north of the well show any signs of corruption, but Fanlomen's sharp eyes do spot one more thing of note. The stable bears a sign with a horse and a stage coach on it, and in the corner there is a carving that could easily be mistaken for an artist's mark or even just damage from a stone hitting the sign, but the wood elf recognizes it as Thieve's cant. The symbol means "safe haven", or possibly "friends here". Either way, the owner of the stable is letting a select crowd of people know that his home doesn't discriminate against those with loose morals and shiny coins.

    Vargath, Jemriah, and Selissa

    As the three of you are beginning to search alongside two women and a man chosen by the Chief, Selissa also spots the Thieve's cant symbol hanging above the stable door. It must be a recent addition, as she has never noticed it before in her infrequent forays into town. When her and her new companions approach Weldry's Dry Goods and Sundries, she spots another bit of thieve's cant scratched into the sign hanging there. This one means "prey" or "easy mark", obviously carved surreptitiously by someone with ill gotten gains in mind.

    The store is the only shop in Dam'ess other than the blacksmith, and it's goods are meager. Mostly it serves as a middle stage between the homecrafted goods of the villagers and their neighbors, so much of the stock is labeled in Common with the name of the person who wove, knitted, grew, or carved it. The Chief's people are focusing on these goods, checking each and every thing on sale for signs of corruption, and finding nothing of consequence. Weldry Wessen, a rail thin man wearing spectacles, looks on from the window with a sour gaze as his goods are fondled. With the show room being thoroughly examined, Vargath, Jemriah, and Selissa move on to the home adjoining the store and being to poke around there. Inside they find a meticulous collection of accounting books, with each transaction thoroughly documented. Other than this the house comes across as bare and boring. As Jemriah is becoming bored of the books and putting one back, Selissa does spot one thing of interest. The entire home is perfectly organized, in such a fashion that it is almost too perfect and clean, but as Jemriah returns a book she notices something off about the bookshelf. Upon closer inspection, the bookends do not match. Everything else in the room comes in matched pairs- two paintings on the wall, two oil lamps equal distance from each other, even two spotless privies in the back, but juxtaposed against the anal retentive perfection of the room, those bookends stick out to her like a sore thumb. One is a well worn wooden lion, dull from age, probably a mediocre antique. The other, tucked in the corner behind all the accounting books, is a dark, nearly black stone figurine. It shows a bat-winged imp or gargoyle with furry, reverse-angled legs in a crouched position over split hooves. From the waist up it's body depicts smooth scales. It has a crooked grin with sharpened teeth and bulging eyes that have a cat's slit pupils. In it's hands is an exquisitely carved abacus, and when Selissa picks it up to examine it the beads of the counting tool rattle and shift, appearing to be fully functional. They are evenly divided between copper, silver, gold, and platinum, with ten beads on each of four rungs. Set into those large eyes in the center of the pupils are two matching yellow gems, filigreed with gold. The statue feels oddly warm in her hands, as though it were heated from within.

    No other homes in the immediate village show anything of interest other than a few Green Faith charms hanging from windows and some racy silken undergarments in the back of one "bachelor's" closet

    With both the northern and southern sides of the village center searched, you all have a moment to discuss your discoveries, make accusations, or simply move on to the homes a bit further out.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    These are the results of all of your first investigation checks. There will be similar description for the second and third checks as your search goes further and further away from the center of the village.
    Last edited by purepolarpanzer; 2020-06-29 at 07:07 PM.
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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Birel Amastacia
    High Elf Wizard
    AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20
    PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    Birel puts the book she was looking at back when the shouting starts and runs outside. After she looks the symbol over she sighs and says, "He's not a demon worshiping cultist. Still a cultist though. This is that stupid hateful Harum stuff. If I had my say, that would get him kicked out of town at least."

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Set Al-Sayyid
    Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
    AC: 16 HP: 27
    PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    As Set steps inside, the Chief's home feels oddly cramped despite it's size, similar in many ways to the forests of this land. While the trees rose high enough to touch the sky and the paths were endless, every bush and branch clawed at him as he passed. Such was Chief Moeller's home. Large in many respects, but inside the charms and amulets hanging from every surface seemed to reach out, intent on marking him in some way. Set looked around furtively to see that Birel and Fanlomen were busy inspecting their surroundings before consciously shrinking a few inches, eager for room to breathe.

    Set does not comment on the framed drawings of the woman gracing the walls of the attic bedroom. Instead he quietly studies them for a bit longer than he intends to, getting lost staring into the black pits of her charcoal eyes before looking around sheepishly, hoping his weakness went unnoticed. A wellspring of emotion lay bare on these sheets of paper and although Set consciously knew they contained nothing of the Shadowkeeper's touch or Pale Night's influence, he couldn't help seeing her how the man who drew these must have seen her. Set willed himself away from her gaze, turning his back on her and everything she meant. Life with another was not in the cards. Wherever she was, it seemed Chief Moeller was also destined to only look at a shadow of her beauty.

    As they finally descend into the Chief's sanctum, Set's eyes rove over page after page of rituals and rites. His eyes cross as he struggles to maintain focus, certain as he is that Chief Moeller can be cleared of suspicion. Pale Night could not hope to find solace in these walls and the Shadowkeeper would not have been so curious about one of his own. As he flips through the pages, Set comes across a ritual to bring forth the spirit of an ancient oak. Reading and re-reading the words, Set finally thinks he understands the purpose, though he can't speak to how useful it might be.

    "Birel," he calls as she studies another bookshelf. "Come have a look at this, will you?" Holding up the book, Set begins reading in Sylvan, too caught up in what he's doing to shelter his knowledge. "'<...an echo of one of the old-oaks shall answer the call. And it shall impart such knowledge as it is able.>'"

    After they go rushing into Brent's home, Set studies the image quizzically until Birel reveals its origin. Harum? The name was familiar enough given where they were, but what did the worshippers of Harum believe? Set looked back and forth between Birel and the image, but it seemed clear this wasn't what they were searching for tonight. Studying Birel a moment longer, Set can't imagine her lying. She seemed intent on telling everyone she met exactly what she thought at all times. The idea was puzzling to say the least. "Forgive my ignorance, I'm afraid I don't know much about...Harum. Are his worshipper's dangerous?"

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    Birel Amastacia
    High Elf Wizard
    AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20
    PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
    Conditions: --
    Concentration: --

    "Not dangerous in the way demon worshipers are. But yes. Basically a bunch of fools decided the world didn't have enough actual gods for them so they started claiming Harum, some ancient kind or adventurer or more likely probably just one of the founding settlers of Harumvale, is a god. What's he supposed to be a god of except this area you ask? Nope, that's it. That's his whole 'divine' domain. This little patch of land in our much larger world. What are his teachings? Apparently that everyone else is wrong and that there's no danger in pretending fey creatures don't have rules you need to respect if you don't want your life to be filled with all sorts of issues. In fact, they're so convinced they're right that frequently they run around killing anyone who doesn't agree with them. In fact, that's basically the entire reason they have any followers of their nonsense cult at all. That and an education so poor they don't even understand the insult claiming Harum is a god is to actual gods. So yes, they're dangerous idiots and I'd rather not have anyone likely to wake up one day and decide they need to kill me because I don't agree with their completely made up nonsense as a neighbor." Birel informs Set (and anyone else in earshot) in a clearly dismissive tone.

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    Vargath eyes the statue in Selissa's hand. If it were a curio or trinket it wouldn't have been hidden so completely. Some magical charm to enhance his shop's welfare, perhaps? A faustian bargain seemed unlikely for such a backwater, but perhaps the man's soul was worth little and this was all it garnered. "If you've got any ideas," He taps his head, signalling they should keep it quiet. "I'll have word with our shopkeeper."

    He racks his brains for anything pertinent for that he'd read or heard about as he stomps outside, putting on his best malicious expression. He towers over the man in all respects - height, breadth, presence, but mere physicality didn't mean everything. If this man had struck a deal, he may well be hiding powers behind that slight form. He clenches his fist, the squeezing of muscled flesh around his shield strap audible even to those without keen ears. "We found what you were hiding." His voice is the lowest, deepest growl he can muster, reverberating through his chest and throat, a rumble that could vibrate bone with its bass if he raised his voice. Best to keep the nature of the discovery vague, in case he might confess to some other hidden items they hadn't discovered yet. "Explain it, while you can."


    Spoiler: Rolls
    Show

    To identify the small icon-
    If History (unlikely): (1d20+4)[19]
    If Religion, then only a +2 bonus.
    If Arcana, then still +4 but also advantage via the Storm Rune: (1d20+4)[6]

    To intimidate the shopkeep, if needed-
    Intimidate: (1d20+1)[7]
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    Jemriah Cleater
    Aberrant Mind Sorcerer 3 | AC 15 | HP 20/20 | PP 11 / PIns 11 / PInv 10

    Jemriah was accustomed to feeling watched. Raised in the eyes of the Mother and paying homage to the many forest spirits that judged based on their inscrutable laws. His father's vigilant gaze as his mentee added the hops to a vat of brew, neither too fast nor slow nor in such abundance as to spoil the batch. The townsfolk stared as Jemriah and the others began their investigation. Folks ogled the shopkeeps wares as he did the same to them. Everyone watching for any sign of treachery or opportunity to cry 'heretic' with outstretched fingers, branding them with villainy to announce their own innocence.

    Then there was the invisible stare of his passenger, watching from its dark place below the world, using Jemriah's eyes as its own... he shut them tightly, rubbing his temple.

    Jemriah spent the better part of the search of the old shop examining where everyone's eyes lay to the point that he nearly forgot the purpose of their visit. By the time he truly joined Vargath and Selissa their sweep seemed nearly complete. He disinterestedly pulled a book from the shelf, flipping through pages he didn't intend to read before returning it to its place.

    Selissa's discovery. "An ugly little thing," he comments. His eyes lock with the obsidian creature's own faceted orbs a moment. A statue was hardly evidence of evildoing. As Vargath strides outside, Jemriah follows, standing back in the shop's doorway to monitor the conversation and provide a detente if needed.

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    Default Re: The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

    Selissa looked at the statue and her mouth quirked in distaste. There was something ugly about it, beyond being a hideous carving of some grimacing gargoyle; the whole thing seemed to her to have somewhat of a sinister air - not to mention the heat emanating from the stone.

    As Jemriah spoke, she looked up at him. Her emerald eyes watched him before they dropped back to the statue in
    "Very ugly," she agreed with Jemriah.

    She carefully turned it over in her hands, looking for - well, she wasn't sure. Anything. The thin lines of a sunken compartment, any script or signs.

    "#Thieves in town too. Seen their signs. Recent,#" she added over the mental link.
    And the far stars cried, and the planets yearned;
    But no man may know, for she'll ne'er return.

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