"Who do you work for?"
"Who do you work for?"
"WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?"
Daiyanissa is getting a little irritated at the young man in front of her
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"Who do you work for?"
"Who do you work for?"
"WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?"
Daiyanissa is getting a little irritated at the young man in front of her
fine i can't stand been asked the same question 3 times i work for the shade guild
(guess where i got that from)
ok ill talk
1st i do not know
2nd ill take it to the grave
3rd its a thiefs guild
"Ok, now we are getting somewhere:smallwink:" she says to Loge, "Anything you want to ask him?"
"Where is the shade guild?
Where is the shade guild?
Where is the shade guild?"
Not really. I just want to get to the council of whatever and see why they summoned me. I'm only staying 'cause it's amusing to watch this poor sap get interrogated. Although if there's any money involved I'd love to help out.
"Unfortunately i cannot afford to pay you any money"
With a dejected look, Loge mumbles "Pity." His face then brightens as he says "What about him," pointing toward the man. "Thieves guilds surely have money."
OK to make this easyer hes about to tell you where the theif guild when
you 2 make a spot and listen check
Spot roll 10 + 5 = 15
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1114936
Listen roll 20 + 5 = 25
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1114940
Spot: 7+6=13
Listen: 16+6=22
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1114950
(OOC: Sorry for taking so long. I now turn "the messenger" over to the DM)
Somewhere far, far away, in an abandoned temple-fortress in the middle of the Desert of Dread, there stands a larger-than-life granite statue of a young man. A triangular shield emblazoned with a golden-white lioness rampant upon a crimson sunburst. With his right, he brandishes a khopesh, the broad-bladed sickle sword of ancient Mulhorand.
His drab traveler’s tunic and templar’s tabard cover a coat of banded mail--- all lovingly rendered in the ageless granite. The holy symbol of a now-forgotten god dangles forlorn upon his neck. His shoulders are hunched from the weight of a bulging backpack and you could almost hear the jangling of the metal plates protecting his thighs as he puts one foot forward.
The young man’s face is set in a grim scowl, the jaw muscles clenched beneath the plumed helm. Large, seemingly inquisitive eyes squint into the distance as if staring into the sun or facing down a sandstorm. Shard-strokes of the ancient, forgotten sculptor depict the scraggly beard and, nigh marring the stone are four jagged slashes across the left cheek, the scar on what might otherwise would be a handsome face.
At the statue’s feet a pedestal proclaims in ancient glyphs and archaic text proclaims,
“Gaze ye dark ones and despair
For here stands in eternal guard
Neshi
Captain of Nimlot’s Guard
Hero of the Battle of Efer-nim
Last of the Templars Lightbringer
From the Time of Troubles,
From the Arising of Apophis
In the War of Shadows”
The forsaken fane glows with the radiance of the sun’s brilliant rays streaming in from an open window and some long, jagged cracks in the wall. The dawn’s wind sighs as it blows in new motes of sand and sunlight.
Slowly, ploddingly, the sound of footfalls climbs up, up the slope of the mountain of this temple-fortress. The footfalls stop outside a long-rotted, barely standing pair of huge, once-thick doors. A pair of shadowed legs stops just outside--- seemingly the sole bringer of gloom to a serene hermitage.
With the tip of a staff, the person outside opens the ancient doors. The long pent-up dust pours out and the traveler, or so he seems, coughs violently his burnoose.
As the dust settles and the man crosses the threshold, an unnatural wind blows through the chamber and he is forced once more to shield his face with a sleeve lest the sand and dust blind his eyes or choke him to death. Cautiously, he surveys the room and is shocked to find that it has been totally cleaned in a heartbeat.
With growing unease and awe in his heart at these surely supernatural happenings, the man reaches into his messenger’s satchel and withdraws a sealed scroll. It has the heraldry of the kingdom of Hothmalor a kingdom that had never before set foot in the Red Land.
WHH-KKKRAAAASSHH!
The statue suddenly shatters in a massive concussive explosion, throwing the messenger back and showering him with razor-sharp shards. When the dust settles and the messenger finally dared to put down once more, his shielding arms, he is totally astounded and astonished for upon the olden pedestal, amidst the statue’s ruin and wreck, there stands the young warrior, greedily breathing in air that he had not breathed for nigh a thousand years.
For a while, he stood in dumb wonderment at his sudden liberation, blinking against the sun’s glare and yet seemingly exulting in the scorching heat. His dark, dark skin glistens in the dawn’s gaze and the bronze and iron plates of his armor shine as if they were newly polished and the blade of his sword is a long tongue of fire.
His teeth glitter pearly white against the ebon of his skin when he pulls back his lips in a near feral snarl of wrath and rage when he sees the devastation of what had once been his home. He pivots slowly around on the pedestal, taking it all in, his eyes streaming with tears, his god’s symbol, a winged all-seeing eye within a sunburst, flutters about on its copper chain.
And then, his eyes alight upon the messenger who is, by then, backing away toward the door in fear. As the warrior-priest’s angered gaze falls upon him, he tries to bolt for it, but is too slow.
The young man leaps and with a single blow of the blunt, hooked side of his khopesh, the sickle-sword, he trips the man and sends him crashing to the ground. He screams as the fiery-eyed warrior places a heavy foot on his chest, his shield forgotten, the sword raised high with both hands, ready to smite.
Through clenched teeth, he asks, “What hast ye done unto the Sanctum?! How didst thou destroy it? I know thou art but a messenger--- tell me swift thy master and I might spare thee thy miserable breath!”
The messenger regains a bit of his composure even when under such duress and retorts with as much dignity as he could muster, “What you call a Sanctum has been a ghost-haunted ruin for hundreds of years! Of all that you just called me, you are right at only one point--- that I am a messenger”
At this, despite the wrath that burns in his heart at the gross desecration, the black warrior knew, by grace of his master, Horus-Re and of his beloved, Amun-Ankhutar, that the man below was speaking truth. Also, despite his initial misgivings, he admires the other man for his courage and integrity.
He grudgingly helps him up and says, “I… I beg pardon for my ill-treatment of thee. Thou sayest thou art a messenger… wherefore hast thou here come? Surely thy missive could not be for me?”
“Yeah, ‘tis for you alright… though how my masters know you still live beats me. Here’s the world-ending letter, sleeper-in-stone”, he said as he handed the young templar the scroll.
He visibly struggles at first, with the strange new syntax, spelling and grammar of the language but eventually finds it much simpler than his usual fare. Upon finishing the reading, he hands the scroll back to the messenger.
The young templar turns around, picks up his shield, stares for a while at the ruined pedestal and adjusts the straps of his helm. He then turns to the East and bows down low, his forehead resting on the warm stone floor. Murmuring the last of his prayers, he turns back to the messenger and asks, “Where is this… Hothmalor? If my master, Horus-Re wills that I serve in this time and in this place, then so be it”
Unspeaking, the two headed out once more, out into the burning wastes--- to cross the sea of sand and by the grace of the gods, make it to the land of Hothmalor. It was along the way that the messenger finally broke the silence and asked, “What name do you go by, sleeper-in-stone?”
Smiling wistfully, the black-skinned templar replied, “Neshi. ‘Neshi’ shall do as fine a name as ever I had”
OCC
Spoilernice intro do you like Egyptians alot. because it seems like it
rolls for hide and move SILENTLY.
Spoiler
Daiyanissa you hear a faint moving of a person and the twang of a bow and then the man dies when he says in the sew....errr
the man dies
Zimdo was lying in bed dreaming of having a great battle against a BlackKnight. Parries and thrusts. Belittling him with insults and pranks. Ahhh. Then suddenly there were knocks on his door blending in with the sounds of his mace cracking the BlackKnight in his dreams. The knocks are getting harder and harder along with each blow. Until finally he conquers the Knight. And he screams in agony and the person at his door screams. "Hey! Open up! I have a message for you!" He finally snaps out of it and jumps to his feet. HE opens the door. "Sorry about that. Um, I was asleep." The man gives him his message. He goes back inside to read his simple message. "OOh, I am needed at Farwell. Seems I am finally noticed. Wonder what it's about. I better get going." He goes in his room and scoops up his snake familiar from his favorite spot. "Hey Bizt, we are to go to Farwell. We have to pack up and go right away. He then gets all his gear together and and jumps up on his warpony Gib. And starts his journey to Farwell.
Once he arrives in the gates of Farwell. He asks the local guard at the gate. "Excuse me I have this letter to come here to Farwell. Where should I go to await for my presence?" He shows him the letter as he asks him.
http://www.rpgwebprofiler.net/view.php?id=55494
ah yes we were expecting you i believe that you were suppose to go to the town keep but thats tomorrow. i recommend you stay at the spitting horseshoe if you don't have lots of money
Another spot check please?
15 + 6 = 21
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1115146
you see a dark figure move away on a roof top about 30ft away then gets out of site
Zimdo thanks the guard and makes his way to the Spitting Horseshoe. Once there, he finds the stables and hands 5 silver peices. "Here you go. Take good care of him. I don't know how long I'm staying. So, if you need more. I'll be back to pay you. Thank you."
Zimdo then enters the Spitting horse and makes his way to the bar table. "I'll take an ale please."
sure thing sir As he hands you your ale you here ruckus outside
Zimdo drinks his ale. He drifts off into a daze. Imagining what he was called to do. The ruckus outside doesn't sink in right away. After a few gulps. He says. "Wait a minute. Whats all that noise about?" He gulps down the last of his ale. And leaves a silver peice next to his empty ale. He then heads outside to see whats going on...Hand on his mace just in case.
you see 4 people surrounding a dead corpse looking up at something
Martin arrives at the scene, a bit taken aback by the corpse. He wills himself to go up to the nearest person surrounding the corpse and asks "Wh.. what happened here?"
One man says that this man was cheating then this women caught him when he was trying to run away then she was interrogating him when he was shot by someone
Zimdo arrived on the scene just as the explanation was said about the corpse. He loosens his grip on his mace once he realizes there is no danger at the moment. A bit disappointed that he missed some action. "Did anyone see what happened?"
"Well this man was cheating at a card game, i wanted to speak to him as i sensed an evil aura about him. And of course when i approached him he ran, i took him down and the lout was finally ready to give some answers, then a strange shadow from on top of that roof" (she points to the roof),"Shot him with an arrow. And now you are all here"
She inspects them each with some regard, sensing no evil she continues.
"He was part of the thieves guild, the Shade Guild. He was about to tell me where they were located when he was shot... Something about the sewers"
"Maybe he still can tell us. Metaphorically speaking," Loge says as he kneels down next to the body and begins rifling through his pockets, looking for a map, a card, anything with an indication of where the guild is. And also pocketing any money he finds.
(I'd like to take 20, but here's a search roll in case I can't)
9+7 = 16
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1116642
Sure you take 20 minutes but you find the followingSpoiler7 aces,10 gp, paper that says meeting midnight in sewers, and a necklace with a hand on it
Zimdo answers. "If the guy was evil. I guess he had it comming to him, then." He wonders, though, if this could be the reason for his meeting tomorow. "If he said something about sewers. Then there must be something down there somewhere. But, that could be anywhere, really. It's like a maze in sewers." With all that in mind. That would be to great a job on his own. So, there must be more coming to the meeting. He scans the group. Seeing that they are concerned or at least intrieged about it all. "By chance, does anyone else here have an invitation at the council of Hothmalor?"
(OOC: Sorry to make an out of character post in the IC thread (still waiting for something more to go off of...), but "take 20" actually means that it takes the amount of time as 20 attempts would. So, it should take only 2 minutes (6 seconds/round * 20 rounds), not 20 minutes.)