3.5e Batman Campaign (2.0)

[JbeJ275]

Barbara’s stress and irritation found the only available channel.

”Screw you you mangy cat! If you’d been the slightest but helpful neither of us would be in this situation!”

With that, she crouched down and drew the body into the bag of holding. Then she began to search the room more properly. Magical items were a secondary priority to any notes, and she tried to figure out if he must have a secondary study for mundane affairs or if it would all be here. She also took Tetch’s wand, holding it arm’s reach as she tucked that away as well.

[Molan]

Spoiler: Tetch Hall

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Searching the lab, Oracle uncovered a veritable trove.

One complicating factor was that the (now deceased) gnomish noble was clearly something of a lunatic, and making out some of his personal work at writings was tricky. But, not everything in here was his own creation, and even those she was able to somewhat sift through.

The body itself had two other wands, a scroll case carrying six spell scrolls, two potions, and a spell book, which was full. She couldn't decipher what was in it without more time for inspection, so she left all that in her bag while she worked. Most if not all of his clothes and jewelry also radiated magic, which she filed away for later.

In the alchemy lab she found a shelf with four elixers, twelve more potions and four vials of what looked like poison, each with a matching antidote. Everything was, at present, unidentified tha ja to the Hatter's mad scrawl.

There were at least 8 different pieces of headwear hanging on hooks in the lab, they all had auras as well. The desk contained another six spell scrolls, a wand and a rod, along with a second spell book (just as difficult to decipher as the first. This too was full). There was a second spellbook on the desk, this one blank except for nine pages in the back, leaving 91 pages available. There was enough arcane components to write another 20 pages of spells for free, if she chose to grab it.

She found a sorted coin box containing 2,000 GP, 4,000 SP, 800 CP and 500pp. Each denomination was sorted neatly in stacks, making it the only orderly thing in the entire mad castle. Banker House indeed.

Finally, and most importantly, we're the Hatter's letters. The top most one was a draft, partially written in Tetch's obnoxious sing-songy cant to The Penguin, Lord Cobblepott himself. (here, at least, the Gnome had carried the good sense not to actually address his Deurgar overlord as "The Penguin").

She scanned it for a moment before revealing that the letter was, itself, a response. A bit of searching and she found what Tetch had been replying to.

The Penguin must have sent his missive via the Tubes; it was dated the day after the Siege of Chelsea Motte. He was furious. The letter was, itself, fairly incriminating, the Penguin practically discussing open treason against House James.

Apparently, the deurgars had kept the James', their ostensible Lord's, on the ropes for years. The only reason, it seemed, that they hadn't taken over the city was because the Dark Knight had arrived. Once Bruce stopped patrolling the city, they'd begun to build momentum again. At least, that was, until Chelsea Motte.

Now Lord Gordon had opened a formal investigation (which he'd apparently notified Cobblepott of, quietly) of the Bankers' operations. The Merchant's Guild was making a comeback, and House Sionis was now leveraging it's control of the Craftsmen's Guild to impair the Bankers' operations. Cobblepott had written about "These Skull Faced idiots guarding every guild hall. If we don't get what we want soon, I'll have to march there in force and burn them out myself!"

Finally, the Bard's we're openly discussing the Bankers' turmoil in the Herald, and the Blackgates had stepped up patrols downtown.

Oswald's plot required exposing the Gordon's and James' weakness, as an opportunity to rally support and pull the Mage's College away from the Black Tower (the seat of House James). If, he figured, the Wizards finally decided that Lord James couldn't hold the city together, Cobblepott would have his opening.

All he needed was the right amount of dirt, or the right victim.

The mystery remained unsolved, however. He'd ordered Tetch to attend a party at Hill Hall, revealing that both Lord James and Boss Falcone would be there. Tetch had begun his reply, presumably before setting off to the party, but he was now too dead to reveal what -- or who -- they'd conspired to acquire at that party. She had almost the whole puzzle, evidence potentially incriminating enough to bring Cobblepott down. She was just missing one key piece.

Who was Tetch going to see at that party??

There were four other notes in the table -- each written to Tetch. She saw one seal with a "?" Sigil on it, another with the sigil of House Crane, and two more without wax seals attached. She went to read them, when she heard something from the window that caught her attention. She grabbed all of the letters and secured them before peeking out to see what was happening.

Outside, far away, carried through echoes that bounced along the spires of Uptown, she could hear the sound of battle. She looked northeast, almost feeling she knew what she'd see: sure enough, the light of fire and the curl of smoke rose from where she could only assume Hill Hall sat. Blue and red dancing lights a swarm of them, glowed and blinked from the area, and she heard the unmistakable sound of battle.

Then, a second noise. This coming from inside the tower. She heard the hiss of steam, and the pounding clank of dozens of pairs of boots slogging their way up the tower staircase, towards her.

She had a few moments left, maybe a few minutes. She looked back at the lab, with it's contents. Then, her eyes landed on the enchanted and warded metal chest below the desk.

Decisions, decisions....

[JbeJ275]

Her thoughts of recrimation, of other noble houses ended in the night by unseen mages, all of that was banished by a pressing need for action. First, a few steps out the stairwell and a web spell. The quickly growing strands of sticky web forming a physical barrier that anyone who tried to approach this room would hae to physically fight through bit by bit before interupting her desperate search. Then a recast spell of invisibility, it was less likely all these goods could have true seeing enchantments woven about them, and it would shield her from any other viewers without the right spells as well. Then she set about the space, trying to brute force her way past the metal chest's wards then disable any protections that survived her purges and pop any physical lock in just a second rather than the minutes it might usually take her.

After pausing a second to listen for the progress of Tetch's guards, she quickly ran to the lab, taking several handfulls of the most apparently powerful reagents and products, before recalling Juluis and swapping back out the tower. Behind her she replaced the dislodged brick and then made to flee the house.

Spoiler: OOC

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Spells Cast:
Web
Invisibility
Dsipel Magic
Instant Locksmith (Swapped from Grease)
Benign Transposition

I have one third level and three 4th level slots left but nothing else.

Rolls:

Disple Magic: (1d20+9)[23] to supress the magic warding the chest
Open Lock: (1d20+8)[17] as a free action
Disable Device: (1d20+20)[27] to supress any other traps or wards on the chest

Search: (1d20+21)[30] to effectively ransack the lab
Move Silently: (1d20+17)[36] to fade away once outside of the tower

[Molan]

Spoiler: Tetch Hall

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Barbara did her work quickly, efficiently and ruthlessly, emptying the lab's valuable contents into her bag with speed, accuracy and determination. By the time she was done, virtually nothing of true value remained.

Except, of course, the metal chest below the table. She blasted aside the wards with a well honed and masterfully delivered dispel, and managed to more or less force her way past the lock while the arcana was neutralized. Inside she found a book radiating intense power, along with two masks, (one of which was made of crystal, the other leather, but the second mask only covered the wearer's eyes, not the lower half of her face), a magically enchanted cloak, and a specially molded crystal that looked like it ought to be set into something -- this radiated psionic power.

There was something about the chest -- it's wards, the clearly expensive content -- that seemed to underscore a certain element of urgency. Whatever these items were, Tetch either found them incredibly important or incredibly dangerous. In addition, though the tome was magical, she was sure almost immediately that it was not a spellbook, unlike the other three books she'd seized.

After exiting the tower, Barbara was made good her escape from Tetch Hall, moving silently and almost effortlessly away from the dangerous lunatic castle. The gnomes would be furious, of course. She expected that repercussions would follow after the apparent "disappearance" of their lord (she hadn't bothered to try cleaning up the blood, after all) but she was already in the mood for it. The Tetch's might've been crazy, but they were ultimately extremely culpable in the city's woes, and given what she'd seen, more than a little too fond of mind control and enchantments for her taste. Flashes of the fireball engulfing the innocent crew on the casino boat burst into her mind, and she tried bitterly to suppress them. Yet the helpless feeling she'd had as they burned remained.

It was pretty easy to get away from Tetch Hall and take one of the Uptown bridges to South Channel Island. Near Candle Park was another elven hamlet, this one similarly ensorcelled like the one they'd visited the first time they'd been to the island. However, it was plain and obvious that the mood was quite a bit more subdued than it had been the first time they'd arrived. Elves, humans and even the occasional gnome lounged around, drinking and smoking, but the entire village was mostly quiet, and seemed emptier and less festive. The prestidigitations that the elves had used to decorate before were largely absent or much more subdued, as if the magic artists who'd put them up felt melancholy or disenchanted. Eventually, she found what looked like would pass for an inn.

The bottom floor was largely open, not packed with tables or chairs like a human tavern. To the side, large pillows lined the floor and more than a few people were lounging on them, some asleep, some simply holding one another. A single faerie fire lamp flickered in a corner, casting shadows over the figures there. A second lamp lit the desk near the stairway, where a positively ancient looking gray lef sat reading a book. Oracle proferred some coin.

"Got any rooms with a desk and a study?"

The old elf didn't so much as say "yes" as he took her coin and handled her a key, barely looking up from his tome. "End of the hall." he replied, speaking in elvish instead of common. Fortunately, Oracle spoke the language, otherwise she'd be guessing. She trundled up the stairs, fatigue finally starting to set in, and found herself walking down a long hallway, lined with six doors, three on each side, and a single more ornate door at the end. The key did it's work and the door opened, revealing a rather spacious suite. It had a round elven "bed" (more a huge cushion sitting on the floor, complete with additional cushions for her head) a sprawling L-shaped desk, and a secondary foyer area with a table, cubboard, some food and wine. It opened to a balcony, which also had a couple of chairs and a small table, looking out over the lantern lit village below.

This would do nicely.

Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with her bag and it's...contents.

Spoiler: The Batcave

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Spoiler: OOC - Please Read

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Okay everyone, for this next bit I'll ask you to pop into roll20. What you should see there is the front page of the Gotham Herald scroll which I'll be mentioning in the post below.

Bruce nodded.

"Unlocking the book is the key, I agree. But we've got more mounting troubles. We still need to be sure that once we've got what we need that we can draw that beast out, and destroy it. And in the meantime, we need to make sure that Gotham's corrupt nobles don't burn the city down while we're at it. Black Mask took a hit today, which is good. But he's just the latest threat to rear his head. We've got the Bankers and the Thieves to worry about too. And since we weren't able to bring him to justice, I think it's fair to assume this battle isn't over."

"Isn't it possible that Lord Gordon will have seized him and his men by now, Master Bruce?" Alfred said.

"Possible, but not likely. When I left, the Justicars had amassed a huge force -- there might have been as many as five hundred men -- and were working their way onto the Hill Hall grounds. But House Sionis was very well armed and stocked. Their war wagons had light ballistae and Black Mask had as many troops holding the grounds as he did in the keep. Don't get me wrong -- you all did great work, and we've got some new leads to work with, but it's a lot more likely that they managed to get away. Once the Justicars reclaimed Hill Hall I doubt they bothered to pursue, unfortunately."

"If we found their hideout, we might be able to get the Justicars and the Blackgates to descend on them. They've got all the evidence they need to bring them low, we just need to find them." said Nightwing.

"That's not a terrible point. Right now I think we could all do with some healing and rest, but tomorrow that ought to be where we start." Bruce replied.

The party slept uneasily in the castle that night and into the morning. They were safe -- they'd all made it out of Hill Hall alive, and uncrippled. But Oracle was still out there, doing The Gods' knew what, and that night, the city had bled. Things were getting more and more dangerous, and their ranks were still shrunken.

The following afternoon, when they awoke, Bruce gathered everyone in the Great Hall. It was, predictably, empty, though a large fire roared in it's main hearth. The servants of the castle, whoever and wherever they were, remained absent. Kate, Renee, Stephanie, Robyn, Damien, Richard and Alfred all joined Bruce around the large darkwood table with the direbat sigil in the middle. Hanging from the ceiling around them were the banners of the Wayne's vassals and allies. Kate couldn't help but notice the red direbat sigil of House Kane still hung behind her. Not far from where Sir Richard sat, a black banner, with a blue raven gleamed. Behind Alfred, the sigil of House Pennyworth, and so on.

"Alright, we've got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. I know everyone here is nursing an injury or six from yesterday. We'll need to do what we can to heal up and get back to work. I'm afraid circumstances in the city are moving faster that we are."

Questor nodded.

"Well I have one piece of good news, for those who are interested. I've been working on our snake headed friend down in the cave. It's not been pleasant, but she's finally started talking. I gave her some food and rest last night, but we should probably go pay her a visit today."

"We also need to talk about what happened last night." said Stephanie. "Boss Falcone, Lord James, and Lord Tetch all attending the same party? In the open? Plus it's both revealing and odd that Black Mask decided to hit Hill Hall that night. He had to know who was there. And this isn't the first keep he's knocked over, from what we understand. But Lord James won't be able to keep his raids quiet anymore. What else, is, he seemed to think that one or more of the lords at that party, possibly Falcone himself, seems to know where Harvey Dent is hiding. Why would he think that? Is he right?"

"That's not all." said Bruce. He took out a rolled up fist of scrolls and tossed them into the center of the table for the party to read. They were Gotham Herald scrolls from that morning. The headlines were....bleak.

Spoiler: OOC

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Okay! Time for some roleplay. Tell me what you want to do. We've got a medusa who's ready to talk (though don't expect her to be friendly), we've got leads from last night, and leads from the morning's paper (or are they warnings?) and you've got a quest log full of missions. Who's up first?

[MrAbdiel]

Damien let the silence hand in the air as they all glanced over the displayed headlines. At least the South Channel Island case was hopefully closed - he'd have to talk to their ophidian prisoner about that. But he was adrift, when considering the politics of the college of Evocation. And the Bard Guild story...

"...We might need to devote some resources towards this Fools versus Bards situations. It's getting worse, by the reading. And the Bard's Guild are one of the few potential allies available to us. And one of the best possibly informed." The cold tacticality of this assessment, the lack of spoken concern for the people killed, was given little time for remark.

"..As for Lord Dent... He's sought after for two reasons, then. Both because they believe he has the means to harness the monster, and because his presence is required for the collaboration of the Bankers? That sounds like good new. As long as he hides, our enemies are slowed; and even if they find him, he doesn't have the Codex - we do."

[JbeJ275]

That night, Barbara slept uneasily. Her dreams full of fire and ice, blood of the innocent and the guilty pooling together at her feet. Her hand moving, her dreaming mind unable to tell whether it was her own fighting instricts or something else controlling it.

When she awoke, she immedietly went abour her buissness. Outrunning her fears through constant activity she took only a few minutes to dress, wash and triple check the room for any sign of intrusion. Then out came the letters taken from tetch's desk last night, she felt them out with her magic looking for the possibility of traps, she read them slowly and deliberately and returned them to the original envelopes. Only then did she go downstairs to eat and settle her costs with the inkeeper.

The items needed to be categorised and checked over for curses, but individually identifying them would drain a lot of her magic. She'd heard some magic item perveyors had items they used to speed the process though, that if nothing else ensured she'd have to drop in on Fox later today giving her a chance to determine the exact nature of the Churl's crimes while she was there. First though, she had to break into a full Justicar station, Bullock continued to roam free, but without Tetch's backing she'd be better able to ensure that state of affairs came to an end.

[Feathersnow]

Kate relaxes in the company of Questor, easing out of the heightened state of readiness she was in during battle. After a hearty breakfast she realizes the ithets are waiting for her input. Strategy was not her strong point, though.

The Theives Guild would be my biggest concern, but I'm a soldier, not a general. It just seems bad to leave an enemy behind us

[MrAbdiel]

Damien frowns, but nods. "The key to shutting down the Theives Guild is Velnire. And Spoiler's new friends gave me a lead in that regard - if we can denude him of a particular gem that made his credibility, his capacity to lead will fall apart and they'll likely disperse, at least for now. But to get that, we'll need to know where he hides out. And for that... without Barbara here to make it easy, we need friends who know things - that's why I'm thinking the Bards."

[Molan]

Spoiler: South Channel Island

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Oracles efforts, were, eventually, rewarded. She was able to track down the item she sought, but the elf mage who was providing it was charging 1,500 GP for the pleasure -- black market sales, she explained. Off the College's radar, comes at an extra price. Oracle suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. On the College books or off of them, what was the difference? She got gouged either way.

Still, magical Monacle in hand she returned to her work, and began researching the items now in her inventory.

Spoiler: Magic Item Identifications -- Revealed!

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- Wand of Dominate Person (25 Charges) (CL 14)
- Four Scrolls of Identify
- Scroll of Detect Thoughts
- Scroll of Feeblemind
- Scroll of Confusion
- Scroll of Major Illusion
- Six Potions of Resistance (+5)
- One Potion of Invisibility
- One Potion of Spell Immunity (3 spells)
- Four Potions of Cure Moderate Wounds (2d8+10)
- Two Potions of Lesser Restoration
- main spellbook
- Boots of Levitation
- Hat of Domination
- Ring of Protection +2
- Ring of Wizardry III
- Ring of Minor Spell Storing
- Elixirs of Love (1), Vision (1), and Truth (x2)
- 1 Vial of Siren's Breath, with Antidote
- 1 Vial of Slow Death, with Antidote
- 1 Vial of Goodbye Kiss, with Antidote
- 1 Vial of Salvo, with Antidote
- Hat of Disguise
- Hat (as Helm) of Comprehend Languages and Read Magic
- Hat (as Helm) of Telepathy
- Circlet of Persuasion
- Circlet of Major Blasting
- Hat (as Helm) of Brilliance
- Helm of Underwater Action
- Hat of Anonymity
- spellbook 2
- spellbook 3
- 20 pages worth of arcane components for spell scribing
- Rod of Wonder
- 2,000 Gold Pieces
- 4,000 Silver Pieces
- 800 Copper Pieces
- 500 Platinum Pieces
- Crystal Mask of Mindarmor
- Mask of Mental Armor
- Armor Crystal of Greater Mind Cloaking
- Tome of Insight (+1)

Spoiler: Spellbook 1

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This spellbook is written in Tetch's mage hand. You can copy the spells into your own book (per PHB) but can't cast out of this one.
First 19 pages are just Cantrips you already know

Level 1
- Charm Person
- Hypnotism
- Sleep

Level 3
- Deep Slumber
- Hold Person
- Blink

Level 4
- Charm Monster
- Confusion

Level 6
- Mass Bull's Strength
- Mass Bear's Endurance
- Mass Cat's Grace
- Mass Fox's Cunning
- Mass Suggestion

Level 7
- Symbol of Stunning

Level 8
- Mass Charm Monster
- Otto's Irresistible Dance
- Demand

Spoiler: Spellbook 2

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his spellbook is written in Tetch's mage hand. You can copy the spells into your own book (per PHB) but can't cast out of this one.
Level 1
- Ventriloquism
- Silent Image

Level 2
- Torrent of Tears
- Tasha's Hideous Laughter
- Daze Monster
- See Invisibility

Level 3
- Bothersome Babble

Level 4
- Melf's Slumber Arrows
- Vecna's Malevolent Whisper

Level 5
- Dismissal
- Break Enchantment
- Cloudkill
- Feeblemind
- Mindfog
- False Vision

Level 6
- Symbol of Persuasion
- Transfix
- Endless Slumber

Level 7
- Mass Hold Person
- Insanity

Level 8
- Power Word: Stun

Level 9
- Dominate Monster

Spoiler: Spellbook 3

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This spellbook is mostly blank, and prime for writing down new spells, except for one single big fat nine-pager in the back. The only spell scribed herein is:
Programmed Amnesia

Spoiler: Wayne Castle

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"This all sounds great," said Bruce. "But I can't let us just give up on Oracle. Someone has to get back out there and get her back. If the three of you--" he seemed to be including Damien, Kate and Sir Richard "--want to finish off the Thieves Guild, maybe get a train going on Dent again, that's probably smart. I'll go out tonight and see what I can track down about Oracle."

Sir Alfred practically growled.

"You most certainly will not!" he snapped. "I dare say Master Wayne I've put a fair bit too much effort into mending you to have you run off again before you're properly ready. That raid by Lord Sionis was ugly but young Master Damien here is right; you were moving slow. And Sir Richard got bested by the Tetch's so you're both in the doghouse in my book. You need to be more careful."

"We can't just give up on one of our own, Alfred!" Bruce snapped. "Oracle put her faith in us. She didn't have to. I said we needed her, and we do. How are we going to finish unraveling this nightmare if we're down our only halfway competent wizard?"

Richard shrugged.

"Let me find her then." all eyes turned towards him. "Alfred's right, I was sloppy last night. I'm supposed to be mentally prepared for the Tetch's shenanigans; hells, I interrogated him in his dumb pastel castle not a week ago and he still got the drop on me last night. Let me track down Oracle. Consider it a redemption mission."

"We could help!" Robyn added. "You'll need some ears on the ground." Stephanie nodded emphatically, heartily agreeing.

"Alright..." said Bruce. "Then, if we're in agreement, Damien and Kate will try to run down the thieves and see if they can push Velnire out of business for good. If Falcone feels the bottom falling out from under him, he might even be willing to spill the beans on House Dent. Are you two going to head to the Opera House tonight then?"

[MrAbdiel]

Damien untenses a little. This... seems to cover most bases. They did need to find Barbara. As much as he'd like to say they were better off without her, they definitely weren't. He, and Kate, both had freshly stitched wounds because they didn't have their full toolkit without that third element. And Nightwing, Spoiler and Robyn were the right cantidates. And while he'd prefer to get information from someone other than Falcone...

"Yes. Let's speak to the vaunted don of the Gotham underworld. He does, after all, owe us his life. If there's honor among theives - which I doubt - it might count for something."

Spoiler: OOC:

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I'd better drink that potion right away. Glug glug glug! (2d8+10)[21] restored HP. This is the next night, yeah? We had a night of rest? That's worth another 9. Mind telling me what the HP on my token was, on the last screen? I think it was like... 6. I got chopped, is the important part.

EDIT: Forensically determined it. I was at 11. I'm now up to 41/45. Hoo-ah!

[Molan]

Spoiler: South Channel Island

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Oracle spent the following day working on getting her arcana in order. It took a long time to analyze all of the gear she'd found from Lord Tetch, though she now understood why he was colloquially known as "The Hatter". But she was now much better armed than ever before, and she embarked on the next leg of her dark quest feeling empowered.

She went outside the hotel and made her way through the hamlet, and back towards the bridge off the island. The path from the hamlet to the bridge that led into Uptown was a winding, only slightly overgrown cobblestone footpath; it looked almost picturesque as autumn had turned the trees auburn and twisting sylvan lampposts marked the way towards the water.

When she got near the bridge, she noticed something odd. What looked like a whole mob of people coming off the bridge, most of them dressed in peasants garb, but some dressed like fools or circus performers, making their way off of the bridge and into the forest towards the north. They followed any only barely noticeable path, one that had been neglected by the years, marked only by a broken signpost. They seemed to be signing. The elves coming off the bridge made their way rapidly towards the hamlet, avoiding the crowd.

Barbara reached the bridge, and took a moment to take stock of things. Behind her, the hamlet, the last of the elves commuting from uptown hurrying towards the safety of their own homes. To her left, the disappearing voices of the strange, motley crowd. And ahead of her, the footbridge leading Uptown, where she'd find an Arcane Rail station that'd take her to her target -- Bloodhound Bullock's home.

Spoiler: Wayne Castle

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After meeting in the great hall and agreeing on their course of action, The Family began to make their preparations for the evening. Stephanie, Robyn, Kate and Questor all made their way down to the armory. Alfred oversaw some upgrades for Spoiler and Robyn, in case the two of them got into any trouble during their investigation. Robyn in particular was outfitted with a new suit of enchanted black leather armor, who's reinforced armored corset was emblazoned with an etched-leather bat sigil of her own, bringing her fully into the family. For Kate, Alfred produced a new boon -- a djore of body adjustment, which he hinted only that he'd struggled mightily to find, leaving the rest of the story around it's acquisition untold. Damien had his pick of a few new poisons to choose from, and Alfred also handled him three potions of cure moderate wounds, "Just in case we run into any very violent skeleton-looking men again tonight, Young Master Wayne."

And for Stephanie, he produced a pair of new sai's, these being enchanted, and themselves carved vaguely into the shape of the Family's signature direbats.

Sir Richard went away from the rest of the crew and began transforming back into Nightwing, but Damien wandered off from the armory and made his way to the dungeons, where -- he'd been promised -- their captive might finally be ready to talk.

He was deathly quiet -- the gorgon's hair noticed him before she did, blindfolded as she was. The mane of snakes hissed, and the medusa sighed.

"Oh goodie, a visitor..." she said, sibilant "s" sounds sliding over her tongue like scales over cobblestones. "What can I do for you.?"

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons

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Damien frowned through the bars at the creature. The many eyes on her ophidian locks stared back at him, though the hard leather blindfold was tight over the eyes that mattered. Strictly speaking, this creature had done nothing specific that they had witnessed - but that was only because their ambush had been partway successful. In a less fortunate break of things, he - or Kane, or Gordon - would be turned to stone and sunken to the bottom of the channel. She was every bit as deadly and capable as the now deceased mind flayer; and presumably, as the ogre-mage still at large. She hadn't seen him coming, or been conscious to hear his voice on the ship; and it felt unnecessary to let her know he was the party most directly responsible for her incarceration.

"You can talk. One of your friends is dead, and the other abandoned you. I can't say I rate your chances of rescue. But every day you're alive, there's a chance of one disaster or lucky break that gives you a chance to escape; so I hope you'll be reasonable and cooperative. To hand you over to any kind of judging authority will mean execution on principle; but it's the logical step. But we don't have to take that step today. Not if, say, you felt like giving some information about where your ogre friend might have fled to - why should you be made to suffer alone? Or maybe you want to talk about why you left South Channel Island, since it seemed you had a pretty stable operation there."

[Molan]

Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons

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The medusa sighed as if annoyed. "Pfff. You'll have no trouble tracking down Mirv...just look for the nearest coward-shaped rock and you'll be right on top of her." she hissed. "She's always been a low-talent criminal. If it wasn't for the magic and the giant muscles Gotham would have eaten her alive ages ago. Or Hypo would have. Either way, she didn't have a specific hideout to run to, she was just running because Hypothalo and I are stronger than she is, and she didn't want to get her arse kicked."

"Okay, fair enough," said Damien. "Then why the retreat from South Channel Island? I thought you all had a good thing going there. No Justicars, lots of victims...casino fit in with the elven nightlife...."

"Yea, it was perfect." she replied. "Almost, anyway. South Channel Island was getting too hot. Some adventurers came in this past week and worked the place over. That was the first problem -- Fey in the woods all started getting...itchy. Never a good sign. The elves started to raise their guard too, that made it harder to find marks."

"So it was a business decision."

"Hells no. It was a survival decision. The biggest issue wasn't the spooks in the woods or the elves. The problem was the Cult."

"What's this cult?"

The medusa sighed loudly again, as if she was explaining something obvious.

"The CULT. The clowns, the jesters, the bards' rejects. The SCI cult. I don't know how you could possibly not know about this, everyone on the island knew. A bunch of lunatics dressed as carnies had been camping out in the old Carnival Grounds. It's been a graveyard ever since the Bards forced it shut after Thomas Wayne died."

"Yea, I heard about that. Then some lunatic calling himself the Jester started committing horrific crimes against the Bards until the Dark Knight showed up and locked him in Arkham."

At this, the medusa became extremely calm, and her head snakes seemed to regard him coolly, cautiously.

"Yes. That's what happened. That's the story." she said, a bit quieter. Her voice had become measured, deliberate, almost monotone. "But now, some new carnies have moved in. And they worship the fey gods, and they're recruiting lots and lots of Gotham's most desperate citizens to join them, m'kay? And they're a bit more trouble than they're worth so we figured if they were gonna stay on the island, we would leave. There, I answered your questions...happy now?"

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons

Show

"Yes, actually. Feeling quite vindicated in not handing you over to the headsman at once. Do you... need anything? Some kind of reward? A bag of mice for your hair?"

It's unclear if Damien is joking, on this point. Honestly, the answer to the question isn't clear to anyone with sufficient curiosity. "Maybe... something more comfortable to sleep on?"

Once she's accepted - or rejected - some manner of information exchange for trivial comforts, then Damien needs no more from her, right now. Perhaps mercy was the right thing, in this case; another underline under the urgency of the Bard-Jester affair was worth knowing. The diminutive ninja withdrew, then. Time to ask the Bards themselves.

[JbeJ275]

Spoiler: South Channel Island

Show

Beneth her mask, which was itself hidden by a hood Barbara's eyebrow moved up a tick at the movement of the mob, she knew the danger of distraction but at the same time, she was not in such a place that she could afford to be blindsided by things like this. Thusly she took a moment to focus on acertaining their intentions, first recalling what she'd heard and how well the look of this group matched the fool's guild, and whether they carried themselves as criminals, as carriers of terror worse than the desperate lot that dominated the criminal class of this city or whether they were simply playing up their hand to terrify the locals for kicks. Creul, but ultimately unremarkable in the current state of the city.

If she has reason to suspect any significant quantity of Malice, she'll scurry ahead of the group and ready herself in their path, hiding away and then casting Detect Thoughts to try and better understand their motives and whether this situation could yield any information or if it needed her urgent intervention.

Spoiler: Rolls

Show

Knowledge Local: (1d20+12)[21]
Sense Motive: (1d20+5)[22]
Casting Detect Thoughts on the group
Hide: (1d20+16)[36]

[Molan]

Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons

Show

The medusa sighed, and eventually shrugged. "Bedding and a pillow would be lovely. The food here's fine, strangely enough. That old knight you've got keeping the cells is oddly friendly. Where in the Hells are we, anyway?"

Spoiler: South Channel Island

Show

Oracle stalked the mob as they began to progress into the woods. Her scan cast over them, and she was able to start drawing in information quickly. Their minds were incredibly unguarded.

First, she felt a rush of thoughts. Then, the minds themselves began to take shape. Almost everyone here was either at middling or lower-than-average intelligence, nothing to write home about. A couple of quick wits in the crowd, but they were few and far between. Finally, their inner voices began to make their way to her ears. Some were simply excited to be part of a crowd -- a movement -- anything. She was almost overwhelmed the the staunch, entrenched misery and cynicism she felt from many of these people. These were peasants who'd never had anything, never would have anything, and for whom suffering had become a daily fact of life. They were happy to be out here because it was wrong, because it was different, because it somehow felt rebellious and risque and new and exciting all at the same time. They didn't really care much more than that.

Others were feeling transcendent, moved even. This group was different from the first -- just as miserable, to be sure. But the second group had something the first group lacked: hope. They felt this new community they'd found had given their life a purpose, that it might actually help them, lift them up. To her their unhinged passions felt sympathetic, but also wild and dangerous.

A smaller group was just plain nervous or scared. They were hoping that their new friends were a positive change, but much of what they were about -- South Channel Island, with it's ghosts and strange elven communities, worshiping illegal gods, and whatever else might come -- made them fearful. They weren't really sure what their new friends had in store for them, but like everyone else there, they were desperate.

But it was the smattering of individuals who appeared as out-of-work carnival performers who, unsurprisingly, stood out. They were a bit smarter than the peasants, though not necessarily always more dedicated. But they were all intensely excited. They loved their leaders -- worshiped them, even. But the source of this love was not that of lost, desperate souls looking for salvation. The fools wanted revenge. One man kept rolling a thought over and over in his head. "The Plan...the plan...just imagine the look on their highbrow faces when they witness the Plan. The Bards will see then...everyone in Gotham will see. They'll all be paying attention then."

Another was even more fanatical: "The beast...the beast is invincible...only with the Gods' servant can we throw down the false Lords. The beast...imagine all that power...."

None of it really made sense, but the overwhelming sense of grievance and malicious, trollish anger and glee she felt from the trolls seemed like a red flag. Whatever their leader asked these men (and one woman, she noticed) to do, they'd do.

She decided to keep following them, but didn't attack. After all, she hadn't really learned anything, and lots of men and Gotham were wicked and trollish. She needed more.

That's when the trees opened back up and they saw it for the first time: The Carnival Grounds. Like anyone in the city, Oracle had of course heard the stories of the Old Carnival. But, in fact, she'd actually been there before. When she was much younger, before the death of Lord Thomas Wayne, her father had taken her there as a child. That had to be one of the last years the Carnival was open before it'd collapsed, and she didn't remember very much of it, other than it was bright, and colorful, and spectactular.

No longer. Though many of the tents and statues and grand stands still stood, they were torn, ripped, molded, overgrown and neglected. The entire place was -- or should have been -- abandoned. Once festive jeering fool's faces now seemed menacing and forlorn, as the strange moonlight of South Channel island cast shadows over them and strings covered in decaying pendants flapped in the breeze. The ground was strewn with scattered trash, the attractions were all empty and decrepit, and the whole place seemed horribly, irrevocably haunted.

And yet, this was exactly the environment the crowd she was watching passed into. A couple of them carried colored lanterns, but the group mostly passed through the gloomy dark, making their way inexorably towards the center of the Carnival. As Oracle watched, she spotted a couple of other groups as well; she could only make them out by their own colored lanterns, but there was clearly another group coming from the northwest, and another from the south. THey were all headed towards the center of the grounds.

Oracle continued to follow her main group, until the grand circus loomed in the distance. This was the largest tent in the fair, massive even now as it sagged and was ripped, colored in incredible, once-bright stripes of color, it's entryway a massive caricatured clown's mouth. Wilted flags stuck out at regular intervals, secured as they were to the underlying tentpoles. There was light coming from inside. The groups of travelers all converged on the tent, passing through the fool's mouth, and joining the gathering within. Oracle thought she could hear music playing.

[JbeJ275]

Spoiler: South Channel Island

Show

[
Barbara but her lip, as this adventure threatened to sap to much of her strength. And the memories of this place, a time before the senseless killing started, one of the last memories of her parents she possessed, it felt blasphemous somehow to disregard these people in these place. People who had in many way the same concerns she fought for, but no ability to do it delicately or to reach the truly guilty to strike at them.

She still would not go among them though, far to dangerous. Instead she edged closer to tent, keeping it within her reach and cast spells of Clairvoyance and Clairaudience as the tension in the crowd steadily built.

[Molan]

Spoiler: South Channel Island - Carnival Grounds

Show

Oracle extended her magical senses into the Tent. There were no magical defenses that she noticed to speak of. Staying hidden and sending her divinations forward was almost childsplay. The tent was packed; a huge crowd had gathered inside, with most of the attendees standing inside the old circus rings at the floor, but still plenty of other onlookers perched in the decaying bleachers surrounding the perimeter of the tent.

Most of the attendees were human, though there was a smattering of elves, gnomes and halflings throughout, plus more than a fair share of half-humans. The gathering almost seemed to be a veritable who's-who of Gotham's most downtrodden and disregarded. All throughout the center of the rings, most everyone was dressed in simple, dirty peasants' clothing, but there were plenty enough of the unemployed carnival workers scattered throughout the crowd. Quite a few more of them were perched in the bleachers surrounding the central stage. There were large scaffolds in the western part of the tent; they'd once been used to help erect props and scenery, or for platforms from which acrobats might of begun their routines. Now however, they just seemed to form a sort of spiderweb of causeways through the upper reaches of the tent, allowing a few more lurking circus clowns to look down on the gathering.

The tent was mostly lit with faerie fire, giving it a sort of twilit, dancing feeling inside the tent. The attendees were already chanting and clapping, calling out for "The Prophet". Whatever this gathering was, they were all incredibly excited. Oracle turned her sensor left, right, back, and forth, trying to get a sense of everyone in the crowd. Scanning upwards into the rafters, one woman caught her eye. She was lurking far above, on some of the scaffolding, and wore a suit of partially-covering, magically enchanted leather armor. She grinned down at the gathering, snacking on a piece of stale bread. LIke the other clowns in attendance, she wore some face paint, though it looked worn and fading, as if it hadn't been reapplied in weeks. She had a strange sort of grin on her face, and though she seemed to have the features of a highborne, the way she carried herself and dressed made her look much more like a street thug.

Oracle didn't have much more time to examine her though. In the westernmost ring, a stage had been erected, around which hung curtains that looked like they'd once been part of one of the other carnival tents outside. Magical lights splashed over the stage, and some of the curtains were pulled back, and the crowd went wild. Here, finally, out stepped The Prophet.

He was a strange looking figure. Tall, somewhat bent seeming, possibly thin, though it was hard to tell under his robes -- they also looked like they'd been ripped from one of the local tents, but they'd been cut into a crude facsimile of a Cleric's vestments. He was an elf, with long ears stretching back from his angular skull, though one of them was torn, and he had a hooked nose, sharp chine and a wide, toothy grin. Unlike the other clowns though, he wasn't wearing any makeup -- he seemed to Barbara very much like some of the street prophets she'd seen at various slum corners -- utterly ridiculous, but taking themselves extremely seriously. He spread his arms wide, and welcomed his "friends" into their "dark gathering".

What followed was something resembling a rant -- Oracle had a hard time parsing through the vague sort of innuendo the Prophet was going on about, but the peasants all seemed to be eating it up. An anti-authoritarian strain was obvious, though. The Prophet railed against the corrupt, weak Lords of the city, against the Empire, and against the Imperial Church and their "pauper gods". In his telling, a time of ascendance was nigh, where the peasants would rule and the high lords would beg. The Fey Gods, he claimed had sent their chosen messenger -- the Dark Knight; who foretold through his presence the coming of the Fey Gods' chosen avenging angel. The Prophet went on to say, "Your work, my children, will bring about the glorious new Twilight, and you will be the Chosen of Gotham. Everything you do now will hasten this glorious day!" He almost seemed as though he couldn't help himself, and began chuckling a bit at that last line, while the crowd roared on in approval.

[JbeJ275]

Now reassured that this place was at the very least not meant as a trap for her Barbara begins to stealthily move forward, hoping to get the leader and if possible also the strange highborn gymnast in range for her to access their thoughts.

[Feathersnow]

Kate listens to Damien's report of the interrogation. She was uncomfortable with holding a prisoner. The Medusa freely admitted to willfully allying with The Enemy, so killing her was allowed under Lantern Law, and she was an accomplice after the fact to numerous slayings simply by that fact alone, and that was a capital crime under most jurisdictions that ignored her own writ. But imprisonment, even were it the accused preference, was outside her legal power, and cooperation should be rewarded, so exacting it with no change in the inevitable outcome seemed.... wrong, somehow.

This Jester sounds like a problem, and his cult looks like an approaching storm.

That said, I, unwisely, perhaps, laid out a gauntlet for the Theives Guild, and they picked it up.

[MrAbdiel]

"You kept the fear of the Knight alive. Let them know it wasn't over; maybe even that it's getting worse for them. It's hard to quantify the number of petty thugs and thieves who chose another path because the shadow of the She-Bat was cast over the city. Soldiers don't get medals for battles never fought. But when we've shut them down for good the whole city will know what happens to those who pick up that gauntlet. We'll meet up at the Merchant Docks after. By the end of the day, we'll have more evidence to go on against the Jesters, Theives, and the Dark Market all three."

[Molan]

Spoiler: South Channel Island -- Carnival Grounds

Show

Oracle managed to work her way into the crowd fairly easily -- everyone was distracted by the preacher on the stage. Eventually she got fairly close to the stage itself, her hood still mostly obscuring her features from any would-be onlookers. She managed to just get the peripheral of her scan over the woman in the rafters and...

...madness. The woman's head was a bag of cats, a kaleidoscope of silly nonsensical images, dirty jokes, mean tricks and perverted musings. It was disorienting, at first, to experience the rush of insanity, but eventually she started to parse out what she was hearing.

The woman was, first and foremost, in love with the preacher down below. When she tried to deduce the elf's name, however, she just got a bunch of exploding images of hearts and wild fantasies. But more than that, she was excited -- giddy, even -- at the mayhem that he had planned. If there was any questions about what kind of danger this strange fey cult presented, the woman's internal monologue dispelled it. Oracle saw a network of hundreds -- no -- thousands of disenchanted and impoverished supporters throughout the city, ready and waiting for the cult's call, biding their time, preparing to strike.

The Cult was responsible for the recent attacks on the bards. That was interesting -- the original crimes the cult was copy-catting, back in the days when the Jester ran amok in Gotham, had been carefully coordinated, designed for maximum audience and effect. The Jester had been a part of all of it. The cult had started mimicking those attacks but in a much more haphazard way -- they'd encouraged their followers to "attack the minions of the city's corrupt rulers" and, lo and behold, individual mobs of peasants and criminals had attacked the bards in random, one-off fashion. The attacks mimicked the brutality and terror of the original Fools' Guild, but had none of their well-designed coordination. The woman knew that it was the Cult's fault these attacks had happened, but the attacks were important. They were giving their followers a taste for blood, and soon, as the attacks began to escalate and spread, the cult would have it's army.

Oracle struggled to figure out what the ultimate target of the cult might be, but she saw flashes of High Cleric's being hung from the Gotham Great Basilica, and sylvan looking banners wrapped around the Black Tower of James like ribbons, and she didn't need to gather much more than that.

The cult wanted to overthrow the city, and possibly Imperial Rule along with it.

They were just waiting for...something. She couldn't tell quite what. Some key, pivotal moment that would allow them to spring their trap, and launch their plan into motion. The plans were hidden behind a door -- or was it a card? Oracle tried to approach the barrier in the woman's mind -- she could now see it looked like an Ace of Spades -- and used her concentration and mental will to force it open. It finally did, with a cackle, but instead of finding the answer, instead she was greeting by a flurry of furious looking direbats that vomited out of the opening and threatened to engulf her. She stopped reading the woman's thoughts.

So that's what it's like to be in the mind of an ACTUAL lunatic. she thought to herself.

"Now! My children!" the preacher was wrapping up his sermon, and Oracle felt a chill run down her spine. "Now is the time to take the first step, to begin our Dark Crusade! Some of you have already enjoined with our noble congregation -- but for our new friends, it's time to step forward, and pledge yourself to our cause! Now, and for always!"

The carnie thugs in the crowd began pushing the peasants towards the stage, and several others on the stage began to help the preacher prepare for whatever religious ceremony they were about to conduct. Oracle felt herself being shoved by the crowd toward the stage, along with everyone else. The first man who approached the stage was wearing a simple knit farmer's hood.

"No now friend, there will be plenty of time for disguises later. Take off your hood and let the congregation see your face, and tell us your name!" The preacher grinned, and the farmer did as he was bid, and the preacher began to extract an oath of fealty from the farmer before having him drink from a cup that'd been filled with some sort of strange purple liquid, which sat in a bowl on a table next to the preacher.

"I...pledge my life...to the Dark and Laughing Gods!" The farmer exclaimed.

Oracle realized, she may have a bit of a problem.

Spoiler: Uptown - Hell's Kitchen Slums

Show

As night fell over Gotham once again, chaos ensued. The uneasy detante that had existed between the city's criminals and nobles and justicars and military forces had finally spilled over into outright bloodshed. Any smaller Justicar posts were abandoned, and the main factions acted as if in a state of constant siege. Some outposts fell anyway, though for their part, the Justicars, House Blackgate Troops and Imperial Legion forces made their own effort to root out and destroy hostile groups, in the streets, where they found them. Fires raged on all three large islands, and blood began to flow in the streets. In the Narrows, House Kyle rogues and Narrows Rogues brutes ambushed one another, and Kyles and Thieves went after each other in Midtown. Downtown, Cobblepotts sparred with and attacked the forces of law where they were weak, but several black market hideouts and guild halls were crushed under the feet of the now activated Blackgates. The island was split, somewhat, between the fortified manors on Cobble Hill and the lower neighborhoods around Blackgate Fortress.

House Dent men and Thieves Guilders clashed with the Justicars in Midtown, and Uptown further still were battles between noble loyalists, the House Sionis forces, and newly aggravated Tetch enforcers.

Into this maelstrom, the Black Carriage rode. Bruce's heavily armored, triple-axled war wagon was truly a sight to behold. Operated inside by an arcane magical device of Sir Pennyworth and Lord Fox's invention, the wagon was pulled by a team of coursers made of the black magic shadowstuff of illusion magic. They weren't real, but from the realm of shadow they were real enough to pull the Carriage at incredible speed. The carriage was mostly black mithril metal -- clearly Lord Wayne's favorite -- and was therefore heavily armored while still not so desperately heavy that it was unwieldy. Bruce had showed Damien how to operate it; that being said, he wasn't particularly comfortable, and so most of what he'd managed was locking in their destination and hoping the shadowy steeds brought them there. Kate observed their surroundings from a hatch in the top, her long black cloak billowing out behind her.

The bridge leading off of Wayne Island had two levels -- the main, top level and a second, secret stone passage beneath it. They burst out of the waterfall falling over that part of the bridge and barreled down the hidden corridor, across the length of the river and into Midtown itself. The random danger of the Gotham nighttime that had once embraced the city had become more omni-present, but still the party was able to avoid the worst of the areas of fighting just by the sounds and the lights they emitted. When scattered roving bands of thugs did see the Black Carriage coming, they mostly scattered.

First, Damien and Kate visited Justicar's Keep. It was barred off, but from the highest tower, a cauldron of dancing lights flared into the night sky, projecting the white Moon of Gotham sigil, with the old House Wayne direbat sigil inside of it. The Justicars saw the Carriage coming, and knew the Lord Marshall would want it to pass.

But when the Carriage pulled up to the interior area of the keep, the Dark Knight did not emerge -- Scion and Batwoman did instead, and they ascended the keep without a word to any of the stunned faces therein, walking straight to Lord Gordon's offices.

Kate told Gordon what they'd learned from the Medusa -- he expressed his gratitude, then paid them back in kind.

"Somewhere, somehow," he said, "Inside Falcone's beer hall, there's a door marked with the Thieves Guild icon -- the skull key." Damien and Kate both nodded. "We know this thanks to interrogations we've managed to conduct against some of the Guilders who've been caught up in the past week's violence. Honestly, we have you to thank for this. I have no idea where this door is -- we never found it when we ransacked the beer hall -- but if you need to corner Falcone, that's what you need to find. Be careful though; the Thieves Guildhall will be one of the most dangerous places in Gotham. It's where their best and brightest practice their craft. You can get to Falcone, but it won't be easy."

"That won't be a problem." Damien said, his hubris unmatched to the moment. Still, it didn't really matter if he was right or not -- Kate and Damien were going to visit Falcone, win, lose or die.

The Carriage took them next across the island and into Uptown, where they found the Hell's Kitchen Slums. After the Narrows, Hell's Kitchen was one of the worst areas of the city; it had once been one of the most beautiful and affluent neighborhoods in Gotham, but when it fell into decay, it's crumbling tall buildings became a warren of depravity. It was, however, relatively stable compared to some of the street battles that had erupted throughout Gotham; this was where the Thieves' power was strongest, and their grip tightest. As they rode through the side streets, they began to notice street corners not just guarded by regular-old thieves guild street toughs, but the Guild's elite. Thieves dressed in suits of dark leather masterwork armor, hoods drawn over their heads, sharp enchanted blades at their sides. These were the most dangerous Rogues in Falcone's employ, and their presence on the streets was a statement.

The Carriage tucked itself away in a dark side alley, and they pulled down dark tarps along it's side, dismissing the shadow coursers, camouflaging it into the night -- just another pile of junk. The rounded the building, and across the street was Falcone's Beer Hall -- The Jinx.

The Jinx had gone on as if none of the city's troubles were happening, as though Gotham wasn't slowly killing itself. It was packed with patrons, and plenty of people milled about outside it's well lit facade. Inside, it sounded loud and rauous. The building was huge, at least 3-4 stories tall, with incredibly tall windows windup up it's face towards the roof.

"Alright, do we go in quiet, or do we go in loud?"

[JbeJ275]

This was bad, Lunatics meant she couldn’t make any appeal to rationality here, the sheer number of bodies here would doom her if things came to a fight and if these were the bars killers retreat wasn’t really an option either. Instead her hand extended into her component ouch, now resolving that the exchange would have to stand one day more to prevent a disaster here.

This, with one arm movement and a quiet word she dropped closer to the floor and cloaked herself in the deeper mist of Greater Invisibility, she then sent Juluis up into the rafters of the tent and cast Benign Transposition, before calling the still invisible bay back to her. Then she wove a spell of Extended Arcane Sight over her eyes, and examined the leader of this cult, attempting to discern what powers he held and what source he drew them from.

Spoiler: Rules

Show

When arcane sight is active…..
If you concentrate on a specific creature within 120 feet of you as a standard action, you can determine whether it has any spellcasting or spell-like abilities, whether these are arcane or divine (spell-like abilities register as arcane), and the strength of the most powerful spell or spell-like ability the creature currently has available for use.

Finally, she drew the scroll of Major Image getting ready to cast it and follow it up with an Evard’s Black tentacles. Something that would show these people what a ritual to summon the gods going wrong might look like, and scatter them from here.

[Molan]

Spoiler: South Channel Island -- Carnival Grounds

Show

Having handily relocated, Oracle cast her new sensor over the elf below. As though she needed more of a demonstration that the loony cult ceremony below was a farce, something stood out to her almost immediately -- the cult leader did possess mystical power, but it was arcane, not divine. And though he was also clearly a few cards short of a deck, insofar as his sanity was concerned, he also, quite critically, was not obviously awash with black magic. He didn't seem to be completely devoid of it either, but Oracle's extensive knowledge of arcane minutiae made her almost completely certain -- this charlatan was no sorcerer or witch or warlock -- he was a professional wizard.

What a grift... she thought to herself, disgusted.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

It's worth taking a moment to just appreciate how unbelievably powerful diviners are, lol. Like, it's rarely the first choice you see people pick when making a build, but look at all the crazy stuff Barbara can do! lol. Being able to find anything, read anyone's thoughts...lightning bolts are for chumps!

Anyway, have fun Jbe, this should be interesting.

Oh, almost forgot. His strongest magic is level 7.

[JbeJ275]

This hidden away, Barbara began to invisibly cast two more spells. Intoning carefully to speak when the roar of the crowd was loudest.

Below, perhaps ten feet off the ground a shimmering portal opened in the empty air. Smoke the colour of polished silver began to pour from the rift until it solidified into a white mask, devoid of any features.

”So, you wish for the company of dark gods then? Yet you lay at the feet of a mere wizard? What an odd choice? Come now spellseller, embrace the gods your lying tongue claims to serve!"

Once the mask has finished speaking it slams it’s immense oily black tongue into the ground below, and the same organ then splits into many ends, each reaching out to the members in the crowd below and holding them up high, apart from one which reached for the leader in this crowd and began to squeeze.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Grapple Check of (1d20+17)[29] against the cult leader

I can make more depending on how many other cultists are nearby.

[Feathersnow]

Kate thinks about this. there us my first inclination, to go in swinging. But... there is another way. I recently learned telepathy. You Sneak in, then if things good very good or very bad, you call and I'll warp in to help. I have about 500 feet of range to Teleport

[Molan]

Spoiler: South Channel Island - Carnival Tent

Show

The preacher put up a good fight but couldn't quite shake Barbara's magically summoned tentacles, though he laughed as he was picked up, not seeming nearly as troubled as he ought to be for suddenly finding himself in such a predicament. The other cult members and thugs who were on the stage scattered, the tentacles lashing out at some of them at the same time. After expressing his bemusement, the preacher let out a short guttural chant, and a swirling arcane door opened up nearby him, swallowing him hold for a moment and transporting him elsewhere.

For a moment, Barbara cursed under her breath -- where had he gone? -- but she noticed him appear a moment later, hundreds of feet from the stage, he'd reappeared from his door. He was now hundreds of feet from Oracle, standing on some of the bleachers behind the crowd, many of whom were now scattering and screaming.

"My friends!" he called. "Do not fear the wrath of the gods! See how they love us, even now, wrapping us in their embrace!" As he spoke, one of the tentacles clutched hard the man he'd just "baptized", cracking his ribs and squeezing the life out of him.

The preacher looked up to the scaffolds.

"Dear, I fear a heretic has come to disrupt our proceedings. He may have angered the gods! Let's root him out shall we?"

Up in the rafters, closer to where Oracle was, but almost out of sight from her new vantage, the woman in the enchanted leather armor seemed to hop up giddily from her perch, drawing something out of a pouch at her belt.

Spoiler: OOC

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Make three more grapple checks. You got a surprise round off, roll for initiative and we'll see how this shakes out!

Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx

Show

Kate took up position nearby the Jinx, under the shadow of a nearby alleyway, her glamoured dark armor blending in handily with the shadows. Her psionic telepathy radiating outward, listening for Damien.

Damien had ducked into the shadows after she laid out her plan, and made his way across the rooftops nearby until he reached the roof of the Jinx, and started looking for a way inside.

Spoiler: OOC

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Let's make search, spot, and listen checks here. Abdiel, lay out how you want to try to ingress and search the premises. Once you enter or leave the rooftop, you'll need to make a hide/move silently check as appropriate for the situation.

[MrAbdiel]

After brief tactical conference with the Dame Kane, Damien drew in a tight breath and began his approach. This, elementally, is the task for which he was trained. The taking of lives, the combat skill, the leadership of men and women - all of these things are important, and seeded in him at varying rates of growth. But the way of shadow is the foundation upon which all those nascent virtues stood; and he takes to it like a child born and raised to it... for that, after all, is what he is.

He skips from rooftop to rooftop like a wisp of smoke; sailing and springing, dashing forward with a forward grade to his lead so much that he seems to fall across the face of the ground as much as he runs up the walls. Once upon the roof of the Jinx, the easies part of the infiltration is complete. But a man like Falcone does not lair in a place with only simple protections; and with a suspicious eye to the raindappled shingles, he decides not to simply pry his way in the rough way. Not only was it inelegant, he knows if it were his base of operations, he would keep something dangerous in the attic space for just this reason.

Instead, he begins to scour the building from over the lip of gutters, looking for windows lit by lantern light, and those left dark.

Spoiler: Go Ninja, Go Ninja, Go.

Show

Damien's a sneakin'. He'll hang down from the edge of the roof enough to discreetly peek into the windows of lit rooms on the upper floor, just for recon. But if he finds a nice couple of rooms adjacent to one another that are unlit, he'll pick a middle one and check it - looking for the normal traps and locks arrangement, from a room far enough out of the way folks are unlikely to hear his ingress and to give him plenty of fallback space and careful approach.

Search - (1d20+7)[21] (I might just have to bite the bullet and thump way more points into search soon). EDIT: Hey, pretty good!

Spot - (1d20+3)[4] (Just in case I roll super well) EDIT: Trash, but kind of expected!

Listen - (1d20+18)[37] (But Listen is Damien's preferred sense, so ears don't fail me now. EDIT: That's m'boy.


And if they're relevent for sneaking and peaking...

Hide - (1d20+20)[25] EDIT: Bad, but investment may save my butt.
MoveSilently - (1d20+22)[28] EDIT: Ditto!

[Molan]

Spoiler: South Channel Island -- The Carnival Tent

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More black tentacles grabbed more hapless cultists from the stage; a couple of the peasant cultists, along with one of the thugs. The peasants screamed and struggles, but could not escape the crushing tentacles. The thug tossed and flailed, clearly much stronger than either of the lesser cultists, but he too was stuck. Though many of the lower cultists looked panicked enough to flee, the ex-carnival looking thugs all began drawing weapons and some -- alarmingly -- began chanting or singing. That seemed to keep the peasant followers in line, plus the Preacher's rapid escape from the terrifying maw upstage gave them pause. Oracle was sure she'd done damage to their cause tonight in one fell swoop, she just couldn't tell how much. The lesser mob might be torn away from this madman, but the armed brutes clearly idolized him.

The woman that the preacher had called out to finished fishing out the item from her belt -- a finely polished looking gemstone. She held it up to one eye, squinting the other, and panned it around the circus tent, first peering at the mob below, then eventually searching the bleachers, then the scaffolds. Eventually, when she was looking straight at Barbara, through the stone, she stopped, and her lips curled up into a fiendish smile.

"I fooooooouuuuuund her!" she called out, in a sing-songy cackle. She lept off of the scaffold that she was on, grabbing a dangling rope and swinging effortlessly around the divide between them, landing and rolling onto a platform less than fifty feet from where Oracle was perched, and only one level down. Strapped to her back, Oracle saw, was a massive two handed darkwood mallet, which she could see radiated a magical aura.

Below, some of the thugs moved to bar the exit, while others began maneuvering around the now-lethal stage, looking for a way up into the rafters.

Spoiler: Uptown -- The Jinx

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From the edge of the roof, Damien was able to find multiple large-ish windows near the top story of the old, ornate building, one of which was an extended bay window in it's center. Several of them were lit; even up on the roof, he could hear the sound of partying coming from the main hall down below, but he also didn't struggle to badly to hear the conversations behind the lit windows. More than a couple of them involved thugs Damien could only assume were thieves guilders enjoying the company of their girlfriends or courtesans, whichever the latter were.

In one window, a pair of guilders were sitting at a table with a single candle lit, speaking only in muttered tones, a bottle of whisky and a pair of cups between them.

"They're ripping this place apart. Barely any good business to be made."

"You're too pessimistic. They're leaving themselves open. Plenty of new opportunities for breaching and robbing, if you know where to look. That's our way now."

"I dunno about that. Word is the Dark Knight returned -- they're saying he was at Hill Hall."

"Pffft. His days are numbered. The Beast will get him soon. Mark me -- we'll be working for Sionis or Dent or Cobblepott before too long."

"Heh. Not if Velnire's got anything to say about it. Any of these idiots starts to squeeze us, he'll have Padfoot pay em a visit."

Damien got annoyed and moved away from the window, there wasn't too much else interesting they were saying. However, He noticed that there were a fair number of darkened windows, including the bay window and the ones near it. Damien could see that each one of the exterior windows -- including the lit ones -- were fairly strongly secured. Each was locked twice -- from the inside of the window. That wasn't unbeatable, but there were alarm spells clearly inscribed around the frames. That was a new issue. On top of that, each window was secured to a trap panel -- whatever kind of nasty surprise the traps included were tucked into the underside of the roof. Damien could see that the traps could be disarmed -- from the inside.

[JbeJ275]

At the madwoman announcing her success in finding Barbara she sprung backwards, putting space between her and the insane zealot. A mental command sent Juluis flying up to the top of the tent, to escape through the flaps there, while she focused on retreating and drawing her trusty wand of fireballs and unleashing it at the woman chasing her.

While she very much made sure to include the woman in the area, her true target was the beam beneath her for, hoping to send her spilling to the ground or at least unable to give chase directly and unfocused on the stone she held.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Balance to move at speed through scaffolding: (1d20+11)[15]

Harlequin must make a reflex save or take (8d6)[33] damage as will the beam beneath her.