Adventurers Needed

[tape_measure]

Sleep was not easy last night as strange dreams flooded your mind, stirring you occasionally. There were visions of a gathering of the races of Iryulm around a colossal stone circle that sat on its side towering above the world. On the circle were etchings or runes (it was hard to make out clearly) and in the middle of the circle were three gargantuan beings (one elf, one human, one dwarf) standing on a stairway up to the stone circle. The beings looked to be speaking to the mass of elves, humans, and dwarves, but you could not hear their words in the silence of the dream world. The crowd though seemed to be enjoying the speech of all three.

As you watched, you could feel something pulling on your shoulder. As you turned to look, you could see a large group of drow, duergar, and illithid crouched low in the tall grass, watching just like you. Looking back to the group, you can see that none of them noticed the lurking beings armed to the tooth. One drow with red paint covering her face in a strange design of a spider, stands low above the others and begins signal her allies with hand signals. Many of the other drow and duegar nod and begin spreading out to encircle the unsuspecting few.

The group edges closer before holding just a moment to unsheathe weapons and knock bows before launching their full scale assault. As they rushed from bushes, you notice nothing made a sound even though the look on the faces looking as if they are screaming, and the blasts of fireballs were deafened. Your instinct lends you to reach for your weapon and aid one side or another, but as you grasp your side (or back) you realize there is no weapon there and you are wearing what you had on before you fell asleep. It was as if you were meant to only watch the happenings.

You turn back to see the slaughtering of the Sun Realm races as they were obviously not prepared for any fighting. In the crowd, you can make out the lone drow the red face paint hacking her way to the front where the much larger still gathered on the steps. With a flash of her blades, the drow ducked further into the far side of the crowd, and away from sight. On the steps, the dwarf looked to be shouting commands, while the human was fending off the few duergar and drow that had made their way so close with his bare hands, and the elf had begun casting spells.

You sit and watch as one by one, the humans and dwarves and elves are all downed with fatal wounds spilling their blood on the ground. You catch another flash of a blade and the fighting seems to come to an end. The crowd of Underdark natives begins to open a circle around the steps of the stone circle where the large human stand breathing heavily. You see the drow woman holding her blade in the air as the crowd thins leaving her to stand before the three alone. You can see her lips from this distance, but not a sound can be heard still as you watch. A cool rush comes over you, and as you look around, you can see the illithid moving and positioning in the tall grass.

When you turn back to the stone circle, you can see the dwarf moving down the steps with his hand on the human's shoulder ushering him out of the way. Flipping loose a strap on his side, the large dwarf brings forth an axe nearly as large as you and grips it tightly with two hands. You can see the crowd of the Underdark give out a cheer, and the drow female lowers her head to examine the foe before her in a sinister glare. The dwarf bounces twice on his heels, and looks to give out a loud cry before charging at the drow. The red face drow tenses her legs only slightly as the dwarf closes the gap between them and with a bright flash of light your world goes completely white.

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Your eyes flutter for a moment as the sun breaks through the darkness for the first time. The sun had begun its rise over the South East, but the humidity had been climbing long before that. A cool breeze came in from the sea and temporarily relieving you of the heat, even though it sends goose bumps up your arm. Thoughts of the dream flood your mind for an instant, and you can see the female drows painted face again as you close your eyes. Another cold chill stirs you in the midst of the morning sun, as if urging you to your feet for the day that lays ahead of you, this the 23rd day of June.





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OOC Thread

[Forgotten T.S.]

Parn jerks awake in his hammock, nearly toppling out of the flimsy thing. His breathing is heavy as he catches onto the beginning trail of reality and the dream begins to fade away. His body covered in a cold sweat, he gulps down air til he stops shaking. As his nerves calm, he shakes his head, "Great Garl... that was, intense."

Sighing he stood up on the hammock, which motioned o swing and dump him out to the floor that was far below. Parn, like always, never stayed in an inn, or any other establishment. He may book one, but he never stayed there. Instead, he looked around the surrounding buildings, squirreled his way into attics or large chimneys, and slept there. He was a very careful man.

Unhooking one side of the hammock, jumped over to the rafter beam above him, hanging from his legs upside down. He untied the other side of the hammock, and stuffed it into his backpack. With that, he hooked his grappling hook to the rafter, flipped off the beam, and slowly lowered to the ground below him. Flicking his hand, the grappling hook came free and fell down to him. Flicking his wrist, he pulled out a long metal rod from inside of his sleeve, and caught the metal hook upon it. In satisfaction, he bound up his rope, slipped it away, and then snuck himself out of this place he had no business being in.

Yawning he slips along an alleyway, and makes his way for the main roads. It was still fairly early, and that made him shake his head again. Parn was a man of the night, as most of his work got done there. Rolling his eyes he began to wander around for a little bit, as he wasn't due at the Inn of the Fallen Titan for a few hours still.

------

OOC: Might case a few stores, maybe check out the corners for any easy pickpocketing targets. All in all, just finding some places to make some money, then I'll head over to the Inn.

[sum1won]

Randolph was half out of his bunk before he was awake.
He had been dreaming, although it hadn't felt like any dream he had before- it reminded him of the visions he had after his first taste of war, where he found the truth. It was like that, except there was no comforting presence to guide him, and it had been men fighting men, not fell creatures slaughtering them.

Still, he was here in the merchant's trade house, where he and the other guards had been given lodging for the night, before they struck out. Randolph resisted the urge to arm himself, and instead nodded to his companions of the past few weeks, gathered his belongings, and left his old job behind.

There was something interesting and more than a little disturbing in the making, and he needed guidance. Randolph went to pray in the hours before he sought out the Inn of the Fallen Titan.
(if there is a temple/shrine to St. Cuthbert, I suppose he goes there. If not, he simply finds a quiet place.)

[Godhand]

Amon

With a smooth motion, the thin gentleman swung out of bed, pondering the ideas of the night's dream. At least, that was his original intention, however the 'bed' happened to be a step on a set of stairs, and the 'smooth motion' was a tumble landing him at the front entrance of an inn. After the breath returns to his lungs, and the inn-keepers smelly beard is removed from his face with a shiny coin stuck in his mouth, Amon sighs. The young man picks himself up and walked out in to the pre-dawn hours, looking for a library or mage's store.

An escort job later today, and my spare scrolls were stolen last week... Oh well, I still have a bit of cash on me. Wonderful sky today, perhaps a little blood red, much like that dreadful lady's face. What a terrible color... Interesting, a tabby cat playing with a spider, perhaps an omen? Wait... what am I doing? Oh right, scroll shop, and maybe an apothecary, that falls was certainly not painless.

As Amon walked down the streets, a bird shaped shadow followed along behind, always within sight of the mage. A shrill cry quavered through the air, and Amon knew he wasn't alone on his business.

Spoiler

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Amon looks for and hopefully buys a few extra scrolls and potion's while he's out and about.

Tip to the Inn-keeper 1 gp
Scroll of Shield (lv 2) x2 = 100 gp
Scroll of Color Spray (lv1) x2 = 50 gp
Potion of Cure Light Wounds x2 = 50 gp

[Diarmuid]

Garzuun

A shiver ran down the sorceror's body as the images of his dream fade from his mind. The last flash of light had hidden the outcome of the grand battle between the drow and the dwarf, but he felt like he knew what the outcome would be by the tenor of the rest of the strange vision.

Is this what is to come, or what could be to come? Are the drow behind His disappearance? Is that why the dwarf would fail in that encounter?

His life had been full of symbols and destiny, so he could not simply write the dream off as just a figment of his imagination.

His determination steeled itself for whatever was to come as he prepared to find this inn and the dwarf he had been told to meet. He paid the innkeep for a simple breakfast and mug of mead, trying not to notice the stares he received from the other patrons.

His meal done, he left a small gratuity on his table and offered a small bow of the head to the innkeeper before taking to the streets to find the Inn of the Fallen Titan.

[MammonAzrael]

Skullweaver

Large green eyes snap open and stare intensely at the early morning sky. Kaunea lies there for several minutes, thinking about the unusual dream. He had had nightmares before, violent things filled with blood and hate and power, but this was different. It was far less primal, and had the feel of an old story told around the evening fire.

Kaunea worried for a moment that the demon was growing, learning, becoming stronger. But...this was so different from it's normal self. There was no way this could be because of the monster inside him. This thought relaxed Kaunea for a bit, before he realized that, if it hadn't been the demon, what had caused the dream?

With those troubled thoughts lingering in his mind, Skullweaver rolled out of his blankets and cleared up his small campsite. He had slept just outside of town, as he was still uncomfortable within cities, he preferred the open sky above and around him. As he shook the final cobwebs of sleep from his mind, he made a note to think on this strange new dream more thoroughly that night.

With everything gathered, he headed into Dun Murl. Since he had to be at the inn by midday, he wanted to spend the morning hours trying to find any more information on his old master, hoping to get lucky.

Spoiler

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Attempts to locate any information on his old human mentor:

Gather Information - (1d20-2)[9]
[roll=Knowledge (Local)]1d20+1[/roll]
Martial Lore - (1d20+3)[6]

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[Ditto]

Carin Goodberry

Carin felt his stomach jolt a moment before the rest of his body leapt forward from the waist, leaving him wakened and upright in far to sudden a fashion. Vivid would be the word, wouldn't it? he mused to himself, sliding slowly over the side of the bed and trying to find his feet. I wonder what that's all getting on about. He dug through the cobwebs still in his mind, resolving to wake up and move on with the day having accomplished the thought.

Having packed up his gear, bow stashed amongst the straps of his backpack and panpipes slung around his neck, Carin tucked off downstairs to find the innkeeper. He settled his account for the past few nights, and asked a bowl of porridge be drawn for him. The main room of the Inn of the Fallen Titan was always busy with one sort or another of bustle, which the blue-hued gnome watched with genial familiarity now that he'd met a few of the locals and regulars who frequented the taproom. With their company, he passed the hours until his would-be benefactor showed with his new companions.

Spoiler

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P.S. I think my gnome is British now.
EDIT: Turns out, when you type the word 'Nacy' instead of 'Navy' for font color, it comes up as bright green. Bit of trivia for you.

Kn: History: (1d20+8)[12] on possible significance of the Big Stone Circle Thing
Bardic Knowledge: (1d20+4)[23] on, well... all of that.

[tape_measure]

Parn

The streets are coming to life before your eyes as you head out into the day. Looking about, you find several easy money targets, but one pair specifically catches your well trained eye; a gnome huriddly chatting away to a tall, elderly human. The two look to be well worn adventurers, and perhaps carrying something worth more than a few silver. The human, in particular, seems to be more venerable with a gray beard the touches the tip of the leather vest he wears.

Spoiler

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Feel free to send some rolls (hide, move silently, etc.), or you can look for another target.

Randolph

As you step out into the streets of Dun Murl, you eyes adjust to the light of the morning and you nose catches the heavenly smell of bread. You can feel a sense of home warm your heart, and tug at your belly. Looking about the street just outside the door, you spot an odd pairing of adventurers. A small gnome dressed in mostly black robes carrying a strange looking crossbow on his back talks quickly (almost confusingly quick) to a tall, elderly human. Strapped to the humans back is a longbow that seems to be as old as the man carrying it. As they pass by, you catch a bit of their conversation,

Gnome: "I don't care what that silly priest thinks, Jon. Rimbar will never let us back into the crypts. He should have 'purged the evil' while we spent nearly a week in the Hall of Heroes." As he talks, his hands move quickly, as if to mock the priest he speaks of.

Human: "Gerbil, I could care less about getting back into the crypts, personally, but Myhkail seems sincere with his concern about the tunnels we never investigated. It may be worth the time to make sure Berina did not leave any more abominations laying around."

The human's voice trails off as they pass by and turn the corner of the street. Across the way, near the crumbled entrance of the Citadel, you catch a glimpse of a man surveying the area. On his side, a large cudgel is strapped. More importantly, you catch a glimpse of a holy symbol very similar to the one you carry, and you find your hand resting on the symbol at your side before you realize it.

Amon

In the streets of Dun Murl, you manage across building (one of 5 structures that look like buildings anyway) with a man standing out front looking over the establishment. You can tell by the robes wrapped around him that he has some interest in magic. That, and when you catch what he is looking at, you know for certain. Above his head, a sign reads: Asmo's Assorted Arcana

Spoiler

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Feel free to confront him as you see fit.

Garzuun

Before finishing the meal, just as you were about to take the last bite, you see a man dressed in travelling gear come stumbling down the stairwell. You watch as he brushes off the embarrassment and tips the innkeeper before heading out the door onto the streets. As you finish, and make your way into the morning, you see the man once more as he watches another man who seems to be staring at a building. Your thoughts flow back to what many of your clan gave to you as advice: "They are strange by design, Garzuun. Even though they may ask you many questions, and give you mean looks; never underestimate the power of their ignorance."

With your sense fully awakened now, taking the sights and sounds of the city coming to life this morning, you catch a peculiar sight that you focus in on. Across the way, what looks like a normal Elven lady perusing the wares as a shop keep gabs about his 'fine tunics' and other nonsense, you can almost tell immediately she is not truly an elf at all. Her nearly white hair blows carelessly in morning breeze and as she forcefully places it back behind her ear, you catch sight her hand. More importantly, you catch sight of her long, curling nails that look more like talons.

Spoiler

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You can tell the dragon is fairly new at this deceiving ruse as has yet to fully feel her away about this new form. You had always wondered why a noble dragon would really want to walk with the mortals like this.

Kaunea

As you walk about the city, trying to not notice people giving you strange looks, and pulling their young closer to them as you pass, a thought about the dream rolls back over your head; The large circle of stone seemed more like a gate way than just for decoration.

Shrugging it off, you move about the shop keepers rebuilding their makeshift stores and attempt to ask question to little avail. Most of the people give you an odd look (those who even bother listening to your question) and shake their heads before returning to work. You had nearly given up when a small gnome happened by you. His long, green robes trailed behind him dragging along in the dirt. He kept a frumpy hat that was obviously too large for him in left hand as walked along with a stick that was obviously too large for him in his right. He stops for a moment right next to you, and looks up to meet your eyes.

He nods quickly, " You're a bit far from home, yes yes?" His strange voice seems like a chipmunk with a husk stuck in its throat, but his words seem more sincere than any of the other people of this town you have met so far.

Carin

As you rouse yourself and prepare for the day, your mind flutters over the stone circle in your dream. The dream itself reminds you of an old story you had heard about how elves had come to be. The story you had heard was a bit more sided with how great and wonderful elves were in the old days, but that's how most Elven stories go. In that story, there were 4 sisters - all daughters of Correllon Larethian- that were wonderful friends except for the dark skinned one. In the story, they were as happy as they could be until the dark skinned one started to remove herself from the circle of the gods. Things get a little fuzzy here, but you do recall the dark skinned sister doing something so vile and sinister that it forced the other gods to banish her from the lands. Maybe with a little more time and some coffee, the story will come clearer.

You also recall a story told to you by a local hunter, not just a few days ago. The man's name was Jon and he carried a very old bow that you couldn't help but linger on as he talked. He had a far fetched tale about a little gnome friend of his that always got into trouble and had some crazy contraption (thinking back on the conversation makes you realize just how drunk he was). The story Jon tried to tell you was about a necromancer who had inhabited the Citadel of One before him and a few adventurers cleared it out. The one part of the story that comes to mind was a "shummonin' shircle" that Jon went on and on about.

As you sit and watch the passerbys and travelling merchants all ante up and head out into the day, you eventually find yourself alone in the inn with the innkeeper, Boris, as he wipes down the mess from the morning rush. Gives you a nod and says,"You're up bright and early today Carin. What brings you down before the sun sets?" he gives you a toothy grin that makes you understand just how much Boris likes himself.

[Forgotten T.S.]

Parn cracks his knuckles as he catches the pair in his sights... these wouldn't be easy marks either. However, that's the risk of a thief of his caliber, he didn't just go for the rosey-cheeked new boyos... he considered himself a higher-class thief.

The tall human would have bigger things that would be of little use to Parn, however... bigger things equaled bigger value. The gnome... the gnome would have things small enough for himself to perhaps use, and being a gnome most likely had a magical trinket or two on him as their race was known to play around with the stuff.

As any classy thief did, he didn't make a choice, instead... he incorporated it. Smiling he threw up his hood and dashed off down the opposite street. Cutting a corner in an ally, he ran full speed down the alleyway. As he got near the end, the shadows of the alley reached up and engulfed in in the blink of an eye*. He reappeared down the other side of the street the duo were walking, and noted any other folk walking around. Seeing some horses nearby, he began walking casually down the street. Using his metal rod as a cane, he hobbled along casually with only a small gait.

Getting close, he flicked a piece of stone at one of the horses, hoping to make it give a cry as both himself and the two targets were close. Feigning** surprise, he fell to his left, slamming into the Gnome. As he was put into close physical contact with the man, his free hand slipped around the flowing edges of his cloak into the smaller creatures pocket and plucked for any loose money pouches and gear that wasn't tied down***. He didn't stop there though, as in the blink of movement he he let his leg that he had pretended to be bum give out, and fell away from the gnome... straight into the human. His free hand reached up to grab the human by the belt as he shouted out, "Oh my!" He hoped his weight alone would be enough to pants the human right there and then... but if he didn't, his free hand was ready to come up and pluck away any items he could like he had with the gnome****.


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*- Hide - (1d20+24)[44] - This is basically to throw anyone who was observing me off my trail, as I do have my abilities.

**- Bluff - (1d20+10)[26] - To act like a Cripple and fall convincingly

***- Pickpocketing Gerbil - (1d20+16)[29] - This is vs. Gerbils Spot.

****- Pickpocketing Jon - (1d20+16)[27] - This is vs. Jon's Spot.

Edit: Those are some pretty sweet rolls.

OOC Note: I'm finding this very... very amusing. For some reason, I can already see you saying that when I try to snag some stuff from Gerbil, all I get is Rogerstillius.

[MammonAzrael]

Skullweaver

Kaunea looks down at the small gnome, taking heart in the sincerity of his questioning. Though oddly dressed, and almost unbelievably small, gnomes could be deceptively clever and often knew surprising things. He pushes the thoughts of the strange dream away, to be thought of that evening. He had better things to do at the moment, and hopefully more

"It looks like the same could be said of you, little one," Kaunea replies with a smile. "My home is...wherever I make it now. Perhaps you can aid me, though. I'm looking for someone, an old human master of the sword. He practices the way of the Diamond Mind, is perhaps twice your height, and I was never able to best him."

[Godhand]

Amon

Really? Asmo's? That better not be Asmodean, or his shop is going up in flames. Oh wait, I don't have that scroll anymore... damned gnomes

Shaking his head slightly, Amon walks over to the robed man, offering his hand after the initial greeting.

"Hello, are you Asmo? My name is Amon, and I'm looking for a few scrolls of lesser magics, would you happen to have these?"

Amon would then list the items in question that he needs, or ask to see the person who could help him. His manner is businesslike, but if the man proves friendly, he'd strike up a bigger conversation.

Spoiler

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Same things as before.
But really, is that short for Asmodean?

[Diarmuid]

Garzuun

Garzuun smiled as the words of his clan echoed in his mind regarding the humans and their eccentricities. A smile still beaming on his face as he heads out into the morning, he notes the original cause for his amusement seemingly observing something else.

Dismissing any significance from such an obviously silly man, he further takes in his surroundings and is immediately surprised at the "elven woman" he spies. His mind spins into a small turmoil as he decides on a course of action.

If I approach her and make it known that I know what she is, she could be angry. They are quite vain at times. But, with the disappearance of K'irdinaelle Ver Mystali, perhaps this other could be in trouble. Of course, perhaps she is involved...then my mission would be known and the dwarf could be in trouble. Damn! Perhaps it would be best if I simply observed from a distance for now, yes...that seems a fine idea.

His mind made up, the sorcerer begins browsing some of the other merchants' wares and keeping an eye on the "elf".

Bluff - (1d20+6)[15]
Disguise - (1d20+6)[7]

[sum1won]

Ranolph

Randolph smiled warmly as he approached the man of his faith. He may well be have been the preist described by Gerbil and Jon, and such a man would surely do well in the church of St. Cuthbert. On overtaking him, he exclaimed
Greetings, friend. I saw your raiment and believe you to be a man of my own faith. I've only recently arrived, and was wondering if you could help me a little. First, do you know somewhere I might pray, and second, I've heard about some crypts. Do you know anything about that?


diplomacy check (1d20+7)[10]

Gather information check [roll1d20+3[/roll]
[ooc] The gather information check is for the crypt question. I assume that the prayer question isn't needed. If it is, here is a check for that: [roll1d20+3[/roll] .

EDIT: I mistyped the roll code, so I rolled in the other thread. results: 20, 17 respectively[/ooc]

[tape_measure]

Parn

You move along your path, seeing the next three moves like a proper chess player does. The hores neighs loudly, making the distraction nearly perfect; the fall was well timed; the fall forward into the gnome well executed; the returning fall into the human even better.

In the pocket of the gnome, you pluck a loose coin purse that you slip even handedly into your own. You notice something else in there as well; something warm and fuzzy. As you move into the human, though, you find his reflexes surprisingly agile for someone as old as he appeared. he arms lock up with yours as he catches you from amking a dangerous fall to the ground. With the rouse nearly foiled, you hear,"Easy there fella. Everything alright? That horse gave you a stir."

You hear the concern in his voice, but another sound catches your ear before oyu can turn to meet his eyes. A squeaking noise, like an ungreased wheel, chatters away and you hear the gnome say,"he did what? No, no, no Rogerstillus, my pouch...is right-"

Spoiler

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Damn fine rolls. Only problem is that they are a few levels higher; a rogue; and a ranger. I'll give you an opportunity to ready your next move. Think of it as a surprise round. Oh, and thanks for the suggesstion about rogerstillus.

Kaunea

The gnome nods, "I have heard of many talented people who study the Art, yes, yes. I think I may even know someone who may know someone who may have seen this person you are seeking. Perhaps you could help me, no?"

[ooc] For what it's worth, he seems to be the most honest creature you have met in quite a while. [/ooc]


Amon

The man turns to reveal a black beard that is cut short to his face, as if he just had it trimmed, but you notice a spot that is slightly thinner than the rest. You can easily empathize as you've seen other wizards/sorcerers singe thei rhair from a potion, or a fire ball gone bad.

His dark eyes quickly scan your person, his brow furrows and he gives you a nod. "I am, His face grimaces a bit, [/color]Asmo. Please coem in. You seem as if you are looking for something in a hurry."[/color] He pivots backwards to reach for the door and swing it wide for you to enter. As he does, a bell shimes above the door, and you are introduced to the wizard's shop.

Inside, there's nothing out of sorts about the place. Your typical wizardy shop, but you can definately tell he has not been open for very long as the shelves are not as packed with books and trinkets like most wizard shops you've seen. Moving behind the counter, he lets a hand slide along the top as he latches the swing door behind him. Turning, her asks,"What can I do for you?"

Spoiler

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Maaaaybe it's Asmodean....maaaybe not.

Garzuun

As you move around from table to table, you watch as the 'efl' struggles with trying to act like an elf. You also notice that she seems to be looking for somethign, or someone. She keeps looking over her shoulder and side to side. At one point, she even seems to look directly at you. Your heart flutters for just a second before a firm hand lays gently on your shoulder. With a quick glance from the side of your eyes, you can see another terribly disguised human hand with slightly-larger-than-normal golden talons grip into your schoulder.

A voice leans in to your ear,"You are Garzuun the messenger, yes?" As the voice sends chills down your spine, you swear you can smell brimstone.

Randolph

The man jolts slightly as you approach as if he were deep in thought. His face grows taunt, but relaxes quickly as he listens. You can see his eyes scan you over, and upon seeing your symbol, he relaxes slightly.

He nods,"I do know a place where you may pray, brother. Come along, and please, let's not discuss the crypts in the open. Last thing we need is a riot of angry dwarves." He turns and motions you to follow him into the Citadel.

As he walks, "So where do you hail from...ummm..." He leaves the conversation open for you, and moves toward the only door to the Citadel that seems in operation.

[Forgotten T.S.]

'I should of marked him better for his familiar... cursed Mages.'

He had to move... and he had to move fast before the human could get a tight grip on him... or before the gnome could sound off a real warning. With quick moves, he steps on the pronged edge of his metal rod, and kicks the flat head of it. Turning his hands in the grip of the human, he uses the humans own leverage to propel the himself between the mans legs. As he came out behind the human, he cupped his palms and attempted to slide out of the mans grip*.

If he escapes... he doesn't hesitate a second as he scoops up his rod and takes off down the street. Due to his heritage, he was as light on his feet as any small creature and could easily outpace them... which meant that human would only barely be able to keep up with him.

However... he wouldn't give the human a chance to catch him, if he had a choice. After getting a block down the road, he made a beeline into the nearest alley. As soon as he took the hard corner, the shadows jumped up to claim him in their grip**. Coming to a hard halt, he jumps behind a barrel. Holding his breathe***, he waits to see how his ruse will play out.


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*- Escape Artist - (1d20+13)[15]

**- Hide - (1d20+24)[42]

***- Move Silently - (1d20+18)[37]


OOC Note: What sort of player would I be if I didn't screw myself over with facts the DM forgot. Besides, yes... I knew going into this that they were higher level then me.

[sum1won]

Randolph

Randolph follows the man into the citadel, replying

Originally, a small city called Dagonburg, some distance away. I lost favor there and once my debts were payed, I left to travel. As for yourself, brother?

It was fortunate to find a fellow preist of our Saint in this place. I hope to see him again, after this business at the Inn of the Fallen Titan is taken care of. I wonder his place within the church, or if he is a wanderer like myself?

[ooc] I assume that this small city that I just made up the name for is well outside the realm of the campaign. Randolph has been traveling for the last few years.[/ooc]

[Ditto]

Carin Goodberry

"It's a brand new day, and the sun is high! All the birds are singing - and there's no reason to lie abed when I have the opportunity to chat with a fine individual such as yourself. So many interesting character pass through this place, so eventful in these dynamic times." Carin leans forward on his elbows and addresses Boris almost conspiratorily. "And you're right here in the thick of it, living history!" He thumps the bar with a fist enthusiastically, punctuating the sentiment. "I heard tell of a fortress nearby from a local fellow, adventurer by trade like myself. He said that a necromancer lived there some time ago and worked terrible magicks from the Citadel of the One. Ever happen to've been regaled with tales of that vile campaign, or the valiants who ousted him?"

Spoiler

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I'm not really buttering the innkeep up for any particular reason. Just seemed like fun. But also, fishing a bit.

If this isn't particularly revealing, I am going to wander off and kill some time by digging for more stories, though... I don't know if Dun Murl has a guildhouse for bards, but that would seem as good a place as any to swap old tales about elves or necromancers. Not sure what might be involved in this, so I'll pitch a few numbers in advance to keep you busy, TM

Diplomacy (if it helps to wheedle a story out of Boris, or a fellow bard) +11 (1d20+11)[19]
Again, if I have cause to run through Boris *and* some bards: (1d20+11)[26]
Gather Information (if he has to hunt a bit) +3 (1d20+3)[21]
Kn: Arcana (to supplement the History knowledge, perhaps trying to connect the Citadel and the shummoning shircle in his mind) +8 (1d20+8)[9]

EDIT: It appears insofar as summoning circles are concerned, he has remembered only that his socks need changing. But good show on that untrained GI check!

[MammonAzrael]

Skullweaver

Kaunea kneels down to better speak to the odd little gnome. "That could be most helpful to my search. I'm sure I can be of great assistance to you, my little friend. What is it that you need help with?"

He tried to ignore the snarling laughter deep in the back of his mind, telling him that he would never find the old man, and that this would be just another false trail. This gnome could very well know someone who could help him, and he would not lose faith, not give up and give in to the demon. This is one game Skullweaver cannot lose.

[Diarmuid]

Garzuun

The draconic sorcerer cannot hide the shock in his eyes at recognizing yet another trueblood in this small town. Lowering his head respectfully, he responds to the question posed to him in a low tone,

"I am, but perhaps it would be best to discuss such things somewhere less public. Your veil is not as thorough as it could be."

Looking around, Garzuun tries to spy a bar or inn where he and his new acquaintance might have a talk more privately.

Spot - (1d20+4)[13]

[Godhand]

Amon

Amon's eyes gleam slightly at the assorted magics in the shop, but the small voice of reason quickly reasserted control, as business was at hand.

"Ah, right. I'm looking for some scrolls, basic spells really. The color spray and shield to be precise, ah two of each. Also, a few simple healing potions would be helpful as well. Escort jobs, y'know? There'll probably be some others on the trip, but I don't know how they'll hold up if something goes sour."

Amon scratches his head and shrugs, unknowing of the wizard's talents.

[tape_measure]

Amon

The man nods with a frown, "I have some potions, but I am, unfortunately, out of the scrolls you are looking for." From behind the man, a black crow caws nearly startling you. Coming out from a collection of twigs and paper scraps, the bird bobs quickly and swings its head at you. The bearded man turns and nods quickly and gives you a shrug, "I can deliver, if you'd like...?" The crow behind him bobs quickly again, and chirps lightly while moving its head from side to side to keep an eye on you.

Garzuun

Turning, you lock eyes with the large human holding your shoulder. He lowers his head slightly, and in a lowered voice "Follow." He pulls a hood closer to his face and moves around you into the street. He moves quickly through the growing crowd, and you catch sight of the elven woman panic slightly and set the trinket down. She locks eyes with you momentarily before moving after the large human. Her moves, while much more graceful, still obviously lack experience with the morphed form. You can see the two moving towards a newly constructed inn. Above the door, a sign reads "The Inn of the Fallen Titan."

Kaunea

The little gnomes quickly, "Then it is settled, yes, yes." He grabs a hold of your finger and tugs as he moves towards town. Ahead in the streets, you see that the crowds are growing around the merchants makeshift shops. In the midst of the street, you spot to figures (one a large human, and another a smaller, slumsy elf) slicing through the crowd on their way to a oridanry building across from them. Coincidentally, the gnomes is tugging you in the same direction. "You see? They are gathering as we speak. We should be moving along now, yes, yes."

Carin

Boris furrows his brow, pausing for a moment, then continues to wipe down the counter, "Now, I did hear somethin' similar to that a few nights ago - shortly before you arrived." He pauses a nother moment as he obviously works through it in his head, "A very dark skinned elven man came through and nearly drank me out of that Larawen wine."

He stands upright again and shakes the debrif from the towel onto the floor behind the bar, "Think his name was...Jael...Jaol...J-somehting'. Anyhow, he made talk of a necromancer that got one of the local priests here all roused and upset. Mikhail, that's the priest, through a fit and stormed out of here." He folds the towel back together and moves cloer to you.

Leaning on the bar, "Not that it does much good to be lookin' into these things. Old Steelaxe will never let adventurer's into those crypts again. He' sealed them tight with magics from that Asmodeous guy." He gives a nod towards the window. Lookign through, you catch sight of a shop down the street, with two men standing out in front talking.


Randolph

Moving into the citadel, you hear the wounds of workers clearing out out stone as several picks strike against stone in the distance. The man turns as he enters through the door, "I'm from Talis Fen, originally. I had been with that church for nearly my whole life before I came South." He motions you through, "Be careful of the debris. Rimbar has the place swarming with dwarves now that are too busy to mind a fallen boulder, or ceiling." he gives you a smug grin and moves forward towards two double doors ahead of you.



His pace is much faster now inside, but he turns once more to you as he walks, "Do you have a name, brother? His voice is dead panned, and almost full of worry. Around, on the next level up, you can see the dust adn debris swirling around, and the sounds of stonework grows louder.

Parn

"Now where did it go?" you hear as you plan for the next move.

The man's arms and ahnds hold tight you as you squirm to get free, "Easy, sir. I don't want to hurt you..." With a flip of your wrist, you manage to flick away his arm, freeing you from his grip. Your feet are already moving as your hand smacks the ground and propels you forward through his legs and down towards the alley.

Your heart punding, you can hear the little gnome mumbling to himself, and the sound of chattering, as if they were comminucating back and forth. truning the corner, you find a perfect hiding spot below a half open window with a wheel barrow turned over on its side. Braking suddenly, allowin you feet to slide in the dirt, you tumble carefully out of sight. With a flip of your hand over the dirt, you make the skid marks disapear.

Silent, and careful, you hear the footfalls of the human and the gnome coming closer. You gulp hard as a nose appears in the small crack where the wheel barrow does nto meet the ground. It sniffs quickly before retreating away as quickly as it came. In the alley way, the footfalls come closer and then head away from you further down the alley. The last thing you hear is the gnome, "Don't worry Jon, Rogerstillus is a great hunter. Much better than you ever where."

[sum1won]

Keeping pace, Randolph repliesIndeed I do, and it is Randolph Capson. It seems you are almost certainly my senior within the church. Can I ask your name? It seems you are familiar with the founders of this city.

As he walks, he peers around. He hadn't been around dwarfs (dwarves?) much before, but those who he was around tended to take pride in just about everything. So, why is this place a mess? And why does he seem almost pleased about it?

[Forgotten T.S.]

Parn gulped down breathe, his pupils dilated as he peeked through the crack... taking in as much as he can from the pin-prick of sight. This is why he was a thief... this, right here. This rush... this explosion of surging life that coursed through him.

He felt so alive...

Yet, it always receeded as quickly as it came... he could feel the coldness spread throughout his limbs where fire had raced. The shadowstuff merged with his very soul sucking it away. As he watched the pair take the corner, he let out a steady soft breathe as he rolled over on his back. He wasn't in the clear yet, but he needed to get his grounding.

After taking a minute to calm his nerves, he bides his time. Pulling out the gnomes purse, he rifles through what there might be, hoping to see the glimmer of gold, if not the faint prayer for platinum... or some other trinket of use. After collecting his thoughts, he checked the crack again to make sure his way was clear.

Slowly he pushed himself up, hoping over the obstruction. Smiling, he unclasps his cloak, turning it inside out and folding it back over himself. Instead of the harsh gray to meld with the city streets and walls, he was now cloaked in a warm forest green*. He moved down the same way the other two went, peaking about the corners to make sure they hadn't lingered, then cut down another alleyway in opposition to the path they had taken.

Getting out on the city streets, he walked among the tallfolk, to obscure his presence**. From here, he began making his way to the meeting place so that he could get on with this job.


------------------------------


*- Disguise - (1d20+6)[26]

**- Hide - (1d20+24)[42]

[MammonAzrael]

Skullweaver

Kaunea starts moving with the gnome, hunching so as not to break the odd man's hold on his finger and possibly lose him in the crowd. "They? Then you are not the only one who needs help?

Spoiler

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Knowledge Local - (1d20+1)[18]
To see if Kaunea knows what the building is.

[Diarmuid]

Garzuun

Not one to argue with a being such as the one he was currently faced with, Garzuun followed behind, keeping a look out for others who might have noticed his "friend"'s strangeness.

At seeing the "elven" woman panic slightly, he looked around for dangers and wasnt sure if he had found one when she locked eyes with his.

He's headed towards the inn I was to meet the dwarf in. This is either a very good thing, as these two should certainly be able to shed some light on the missing One. But then again, there is nothing to say they dont mean to make sure that He stays gone either. Calm, Garzuun, calm...do not be hasty like the humans.

Gaining his composure, he gathers his cloak about him as well to try to attract less attention.

[Ditto]

Carin

At Boris' story, Carin shook his head and tut-tutted. "Now what d'you suppose this Jelly-Fellow was saying to upset the fine clergy of our fair city? 'Tain't proper, I reckon. And what's the story on these crypts? I know the Heironians were pitching kettles over something these weeks past, but can't say I caught the story. Bit too much to drink during all the interesting parts when folks talked of it, I s'pose!" The gnome looks out the window at the battered lane. "S'no wonder people keep close to their cups in days of late, neh?"

[Godhand]

Amon

Amon frowns slightly at the lack of scrolls, cursing himself for being careless enough to be in this situation. After a half a second pause, he shifts his gaze from the crow back to the wizard.

"No matter on the scrolls, unless you could finish said spells in a few hours, I'm meeting my contact at the Inn of the Fallen Titan but I would like to see what potions you have available."

[tape_measure]

Amon

Judging your response, the man nods slowly in near repetition of the crow stooped above him. As he nods, you can see a worried look grow on his forehead, "Are you meeting with a small gnome named Shaeffer by chance?" The crow caws loudly as the man says the name of the note you had found a few days ago. With a sharp turn of his eyes, he eyes the crow. Seeing his master's disapproval the bird bobs once or twice before hopping down several books and shelves as it looks to be trying to get closer to the conversation.

Carin

Boris nods with the last remark and leans back upright, "Can't say I don't blame the clergy or Steelaxe for gettin' offended, really. Would you want a rumor about necromantic ghosts running wild in a citadel that was s'posed to be clear and safe for all to pass?" His eyebrow arches sharply on his forehead as he talks. His eyes glance to the window once more and you can see him take a proverbial step back, "Wonder what this is all about?"

As you follow his eyes, you can see the crowd of merchants and shoppers milling about the road as usual. You spot two figures moving quickly through the crowd, slicing their way towards the inn's door. One looks like a large human man, and the other a smaller elven lady. Something does not settle well with you as you watch the two move closer. Just as curiosity begins to grow, you catch sight of another being following along behind them. This one is wrapped in a cloak, as if trying to hide something underneath. You catch a glimpse at a talon holding the cloak very tightly to its head it dawns on you. You have ever seen one in person before, but have heard many tales about the Dragonborn.

Garzuun

Making your way through the crowd, you catch up to the poorly disguised dragons at the door of the inn; the elven girl breathing slightly harder than the male and steadying herself against the doorframe, the male looking to her with a worried look. He catches eyes with you and nods inside the door. With a quick turn, the door swings wide and he enters the inn.

Looking around, you find the establishment much like what you had heard rumors and small stories about civilization. Made mostly of wood, the building seems musty and you catch a smell of something soured from your left. As you turn you see a larger, more open room. In the middle of the room, a tall table makes a perfect square with spaces cut out in the middle of the shorter sides. Behind the table a large, portly human male holds a white clothe over his shoulder; across the table, a smaller, oddly colored creature sits holding a glass in his hand; both look like they had seen a ghost as their facial expressions seem shocked as they keep locked on the three of you.

The large male with you turns to the two of you (the elven girl and you) and nods, "Try to relax. This is where we need to be." He turns and moves into the larger room with a nod to the portly human behind the long table.

Carin

"Sunnofa--" Boris' cursing is cut short by the sound of the door to the inn swinging wide open with a heavy slam, [color-=blue]"Watch yourself, Carin. Never seen these characters before..."[/color] You cut eye contact with Boris to see the three figures standing in the hallway of the inn staring back at the two of you. You watch as the taller human turns to the others and mumble something before turning back and moving into the bar.

Next to him, in the streets, you see another strange happening. A tall green hat seems to be followed by what looks like a giant rock with arms. You blink slowly trying to get the sleep out, and return the oddity on hand.

Carin and Garzuun

The tall human mvoes in carefully and smiles at the two near the bar, "Mind if we sit a moment, good sir?" his words echo in the empty bar and nearly startle you Carin as you examine him the closer he comes. From behind the bar, Boris nods, "Certainly. You need something to drink?" His eyes meet with the man first, and then shift to the elven woman and to you Garzuun. As his eyes settle on you Garzuun, you can feel his judgment from across the room as his eyes roll over you.

Kaunea

Your eyes scan the sign above the door again, and you realize this is where you were to meet the strange benefactor who is need of assistance. Your mind wonders to the advertisement you had held in your hand a day or so ago, but before you continue, the small gnome tugs you slightly, "oh we are all in need of help from time to time, yes, yes?" he makes a quick a move that nearly topples you in the middle of the street. Keeping your balance though, the gnome pulls up sharply at the door of the building he had been guiding you to (the building the figures disappeared into), and turns to look at you,"I know there is something amiss inside of you, large one. I can smell it. if you promise me now that it will never bother you or the help you may provide, then you may enter. if you can not promise this, then we will part."

His words are clearer now, and less rapid charged than before. His tone is true, and it's as if this were a completely different gnome you are speaking to.

Parn

The coast, as it were, seems clear enough. As you walk and check the contents, you find a smattering of silver coins with three gold mixed in (total: 6 silver, 3 gold). Not the best in today's market, but something that would suffice. Tucking the coin away, you look up to find the sign of the Inn of the Fallen Titan across the street from you. As you begin to step out into the street, you see something unlike anything you have witnessed in many months.

Along the side of the street opposite to you, a small gnome dressed in much too long of green robes and much too large of a green hat seems to be pulling a larger than life giant towards the inn. You study the giant and realize that this was no giant, but a Goliath from further up the mountains. Tons of rumors had circulated about these creatures, but this was first time you have ever laid eyes on one. You watch as the two suddenly stop and the gnome turn to the Goliath. You try to catch what he is saying but the crowd seems to be growing larger and larger around you as the morning continues to grow in the East.

Randolph

The man nods to you,"Mikhail's my name broth--" His words are cut short by the sound of a large door swinging open with a slam. The two of you spin on your heels to the front door to find it wide open now and two silhouettes (one smaller than you, the other about the same height) moving quickly towards you. As they come closer, you can see another creature scrambling along side of the smaller silhouette.

"Out of the way, Mikki! I need my crossbow! Someone's gonna lose a leg today, I can feel it!" The small creature's tone alerts the sense in your head and you feel your hand on the holy symbol strapped at your side before you realize it.

"No one's losin' nuthin' Gerbil." Another voice rings out above you as you see the figures closer now: The small shadow was definitely a gnome wrapped in dark cloaks, his companion is a small weasel that looks like its shaking its hips as it comes to a stop before Mikhail, with them is a tall, older human male with a salt n' peppered beard.

You look up to a see a very round dwarf with a dark beard looking down from the rafters. The sounds of clearing out the citadel stop and you can see a few dwarves poking their heads around pillars or stones to watch. The round dwarf moves carefully to a rope ladder and shimmies his way to the ground with agility you have never seen in a dwarf before.

Moving closer, you spot an axe on the dwarf's side that pulses a strange red glow and you find yourself fixed on it for a moment before the dwarf's loud voice breaks the trance, "What's da matter now, get yerself picked again?" You can see a grin forming on Mikhail's face as the dwarf talks. He catches eyes with ayou and immediately clears his throat, and looks to the floor.

"When are you going to make me sheriff, Rimbar? if I had a badge-" The gnome looks to be in a bit of a fit at the moment, but his words are cut off by the dwarf once more.

"Iffen ye had a badge, Gerbil, Would have shot the man wit dat boomin' crossbow in de middle of de street?"

"Yes." The gnome's words are short adn crisp, but you can tell he catches the faux pas quickly."I mean no, Rimbar. Not in the middle of the...But that's all I had left from when we started in Sin Rael. Now how do I get more supplies?"

The dwarf sighs heavily, and looks around to the group gathering. That's when he catches sight of you. Looking you over, you can see he catches sight of the symbol on your belt. With a gruff voice, he speaks to Mikhail, "Why in Clangleden's hairt arse is he not at the inn, Mikhail?"

Mikhail is obviosly stunned by the comment, "He was meant to be at the inn, too? Are you sure?" Mikhail turns back to you and gives you another look over, and then back to the dwarf, "Very well King Rimbar. Come along Randolph. You were not meant to pray just yet." He motions you toward the doorway leading back out of the citadel and begins walking again in long strides towards the sunlight.

[Diarmuid]

Garzuun

Shaking his head as he headed into the building, the sorcerer could help but think to himself,

Why do they insist on forcing their existence on nature where it does not fit? Why cant they simply find some nice caves if they require shelter from the elements...or simply stop being so sensitive to them. Their skin blisters in the sun, they incessantly complain about being wet when it rains. At least some of them have the common sense to use the skins of their prey to protect themselves from cold.

Garzuun cannot help but stare around himself wide-eyed at the large room filled with people. As he looks around, he sees the "elf" breathing harder than he would have thought and looking disturbed. Leaning as close as he dares, he whispers to her,

[Draconic]"Are you unwell, m'lady?"[/Draconic]

As much respect as will not arouse any special interest from the locals is given in his body language and tone to the two wolves-in-sheep's-clothing.

The dragonborn smiles inwardly as he imagines what these humans would think if they knew the truth about the two "people" who just walked into their....amn...no inn...yes inn.

[OOC] Edit - Continuing the post, as I hadnt noticed the second section directed at myself and Carin [/OOC]

Following along to the long table, Garzuun decides it might be best if all eyes were on him, and not those with him. Perhaps no one else would recognise their lacking disguises. Raising his arms to his head, this time not being careful so the sleeves stay over his hands, he pushes the hood of his cloak back so that it rests on his shoulders.

In his heavily accented Common, he responds to the bartender,

"Two cups of your ale and one cup of mead."

As an afterthought, he adds,

"Please."

[Ditto]

Spoiler

Show

Carin may have heard tales of Dragonborn (and Goliaths, for that matter), but *I* don't know what he's heard. Let's see!
Bardic Knowledge (Dragonborn): (1d20+4)[9]
Bardic Knowledge (Goliaths): (1d20+4)[11]