What Lies Behind the Dead Vale (solo campaign)

[Polymath]

OOC:

Spoiler

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Some GITP conventions:

I'll be using these spoiler tags to ask for dice rolls, communicate either OOC words or meta-knowledge, or to say other things that don't directly relate to game play. You can do the same by enclosing spoiler in square brackets and ending with /spoiler in square brackets.

Narrative will be in normal text like this, while speech will be in colored text. Pick a color for yourself to use when to speak, and I'll do the same for NPCs you encounter; it makes it easier to tell who is speaking when. Thoughts to yourself can be done in colored italics. Dice rolls are done like spoiler tags, replacing 'spoiler' with 'roll' (in square brackets) and putting the amount you want to roll between the tags. For example, {roll}6d6+10{/roll} would roll 6d6+10, and the result would show in bold when the post was made (it didn't work here because I didn't use square tags). I will occasionally make rolls for you (e.g. insight or perception), and won't always show that I've done so--I'll just post the results. The rest you'll pick up as you go along. Now then....

Luna growls softly, her silver-tinged ears swiveling back briefly as you give the command to stay. She never likes to be far from your side, especially in such a strange and odd-smelling land.

There's something about this I don't like. Don't stray too far....

Years of traveling together have given you the ability to read her body language almost as easily as you would hear the words of another Eladrin companion, and you place a hand on her head to calm her.

Satisfied, she stalks back into the shadows of the high wooden gate, stretching herself out on the ground to await your return. Almost without effort, she arranges her body so that the silvery runes criss-crossing her fur seem to be nothing more than slivers of moonlight falling through the cracks of the gate, leaving her as just another patch of light and shadow in the still mid-summer night. She seems to close her eyes and go to sleep, but your long years together have taught you better--pausing for just a moment to search the darkness, you can just make out the muted sparkle of her eyes, a tiny gleam as if from two finger-nail sized fire-emeralds that might have been dropped by a careless traveler along the road.

Confident that the front entrance is under careful (and undetectable) guard, you cautiously creep into the camp, making your way toward the central tent. Your keen senses strain against the still night air for a hint of movement...none is forthcoming, which is unusual. The centaurs should have at least a minimal guard posted, even in the darkest hours before sunrise. Looking around you, you find yourself in a camp that has clearly seen better days. There are perhaps a dozen long, narrow, somewhat stable-like enclosures scattered in a loose half circle in the middle of the camp, with the opening of the U facing toward a large open-air common area. You can make out the dying embers of a fire out in the center of this area, and you feel a sense of relief to know that at least the camp is not abandoned and your mission is not entirely in vain. The ground around has been beaten down by many hooves, and moving here is more like walking on stone than on the dusty earth you have been traveling across for the last weeks.

Cautiously, you approach one of the tents, naturally falling into the same rolling balls-of-your-feet gait that Luna uses when stalking a rabbit for the evening meal; you really are old souls. Approaching the opening of the tent, you can see the frayed leather cord that is holding the flap (mostly) closed. You bend forward, putting your eye to the thin line of light coming from within, and see a surprising sight.

Three humans--two men and a woman--are in the middle of the tent, gagged and bound with rawhide to a single long wooden pole. Two centaurs seem to stand guard over them, one is only a few feet from the entrance through which you are peering, and the other is directly across from the entrance, perhaps 20 feet away. Both are chestnut brown with a few thin lines of white, marking them as members of the tribe you were sent to seek. What they might be doing with human prisoners (and where the rest of the tribe is), however, you are unsure. Have things in Elfharrow escalated to outright war already? If so, your mission just got significantly more difficult.

Pausing to consider a moment, you notice a shift in the wind and suddenly can hear the faint rhythmic thump of hooves on dirt approaching from the north. Whether these belong to the returning centaurs or some other hooved creatures you cannot yet tell, but they are on a rapid approach--you estimate they will arrive in less than a minute. The centaurs in the tent either have not yet heard the approach or are unconcerned: they have not shifted position a bit.

[vincentblight]

Things don't feel quite right. This isn't what I was expecting to find at all. I was supposed to be meeting Stone Hoof, the leader of the encampment to gather my instructions for this residency. The fact that there are human hostages here, makes me suspect things may be further along in the Elfhallow than our rumors suggested.

Sol takes one more exacting glance into the tent before going to fetch Luna. Perception (Sol): (1d20+12)[27]

Sol quickly turns on heel and scurries through the creeping shadows towards the camp entrance, silently signaling for Luna when in sight. Stealth (Sol): (1d20+17)[32]

Together they creep their way back towards the center of camp, hiding amidst the shadows of the central tent away from the entrance. Sol and Luna have positioned themselves slightly staggered on the perimeter of the tent in order to gain a larger field of vision. Stealth (Sol): (1d20+17)[18] / Stealth (Luna): (1d20+16)[25]

They silently wait to observe teh scene that is bound to soon unfold. "Pack Alertness" Perception (Sol):(1d20+14)[15] / Perception (Luna):(1d20+12)[28]

[Polymath]

Quickly, you lower your eye back to the tent's opening, giving yourself time to adjust to the light inside this time, and being careful to remember your training: rather than letting your eye slide over the whole scene, you're careful to focus on one object at a time, and force yourself to really see it.

You see the places on the wrists of the humans where their skin has been rubbed raw from the ropes; they've been here at least a day or two. There are a few lumps and bruises on each of them, so they were taken with force (though apparently not deadly force).

The hoof beats are getting even closer now, so you withdraw from your position by the tent and, as silently as a cloud gliding across the moon, return to the entrance of the camp. Luna is waiting there for you, still in precisely the same position you left her: she probably hasn't so much as twitched a whisker, though you can tell from her posture that she's heard the approaching band as well. At the slightest nod from you, she withdraws even deeper into the shadows, crouching like a coiled spring and looking ready for everything. Your keen Eladrin eyes can pick up a cloud of dust rising against the clear night's sky--they're very close now.

You settle back behind a small outcropping some distance away from the camp's entrance, and reach your senses out until you feel the familiar feline connection perhaps 50 feet across from you; you can almost feel your whiskers twitch as the two of you wait, and you suddenly wish you had a tail to lash with impatience. Less than a minute later, you can make out a band of centaurs approaching: no more than ten, at least that you can see. The scent of blood is thick on the air (though you cannot tell if it is you or your companion who senses it), and you can tell instantly that at least one of them has been wounded. A moment later, your eyes confirm what your nose told you: three of the centaurs are dragging a twenty foot long travois between and behind them, and you can see the figure of another centaur--this one not moving--lashed to it. The wounded figure is covered in blankets, so even your keen perception cannot make out more.

The company rides to the entrance of the camp--they are now no more than 25 feet from you hiding spot--and one of the beasts steps forward, draws a bone horn from a pack at his side, and blows one long, loud note. After a moment's pause, one of the centaurs you saw in the tent emerges from the camp, bowing before the horn-blower.

What news of the Encroachers, Sky Runner? Has Stone Hoof been located? As he speaks, you can see his eyes shift over his interlocutors shoulder to give the figure on the travois a worried look.

The hornblower--Sky Runner--returns the bow, pawing at the ground in consternation as he does so.

Hail, Leaf Stepper, and well met under the stars. Would that I returned with better news. The hunting party has tracked Stone Hoof and Star Leaper to an Encroacher settlement a day's gallop from here, and we are certain that he is held inside. We attempted to rescue them, but the settlement is large and well-protected. Archers cut down Moss Tail before we could even come within range of attack, and we were forced to retreat or risk losing more of the clan.

Then Moss Tail is...? The alarm in the centaur's voice is palpable as he moves toward the travois.

He yet lives, but the next sunrise may see that change. He is gravely wounded with several arrows to the chest, and though he is strong I fear that he may lose the struggle.

You shift slightly, repositioning your weight to get a better view, and inadvertently send a few pebbles skittering down the face of the rock toward the centaurs. Sky Runner's head turns toward you slightly, but he gives no other sign that he might have heard.

Take him inside and do what you can for his wounds. We yet have the three Encroacher spies we captured, and so might bargain for our leader's release. His voice conveys his obvious displeasure with such a solution.

Wordlessly, the rest of the party moves inside the encampment, dragging the travois behind them. A moment later, you can see the fire flare up again from between the gaps in the log fence. Sky Runner turns in your direction, looking long and hard into the darkness.

You may come out now, and let me take my measure of you. You have more skill than most Encroachers, but my senses are trained and none can escape my detection. The fact that you have not yet fired--or attacked the camp in my absence--means that I shall extend you a similar courtesy and ask questions first. I warn you, should you attack I must only give a shout and a dozen of my best warriors will surround you in a moment.

He draws a massive longbow from across his back, and levels it in your general direction.

You have until a five-count.

Spoiler

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Your long training gives you the sense that he might not be as sure of himself as he is attempting to show. He is certain that something is nearby, but much less sure of what and where.

[vincentblight]

SOL:

ONE.

The word rings through the quiet night with confidence and assuredness. Sol nobly raises himself from his crouched posture, offhandedly flipping his waist-length, silvered hair over his shoulders as he comports his broad shoulders and delicate facial features with a dignity and esteem emanating from the wisdom accrued during generations of countless lifetimes--first impressions, as well as grand entrances, have always been a matter of the utmost concern for him. Though no longer as rambunctious as he once was, Sol's Eladrin lifespan makes what would have been a lifetime to most humanoids merely a drawn-out period of young-adult rebellion; his wild-spirit has been tempered with the experience of patience and reservation, only partially learned in this lifetime. Inaudible echoes from previous lives seem to guide his actions all the time.

Sol takes several bold steps towards Sky Runner, raising his black, leather-clad hand palm-forward. A flick of his wrist summons a brightly evanescent sigil of The Spiral Tower: a solitary stone tower on the summit of a grassy hill. As the flickering sign momentarily erupts with the magic of faerie flame, the fuchsia light exposes Sol's warm smile.

Spoiler

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Sol casts prestidigitation.

Greetings Sky Runner. My name is Sol. I am an emissary of The Spiral Tower, sent to meet with Stone Hoof regarding the details of my residency here in the Elfharrow.

Sol looks around the encampment again momentarily, breathing in the arid air.

My how things have changed around here since my childhood.

Knowledge History (to carry a presence which resounds honestly between Sol's childhood remembrances and this centaur population): (1d20+11)[20]

Sol pauses a moment in reverie, as if perceiving in these expansive planes the long-lost beauty which haunts these local inhabitant--inhabitants of which many have never beheld the pristine brilliance this land once held.

I arrived in your encampment only moments before your party arrived. I found no spotters or guards present. The encampment appeared deserted, save for the captured humans bound in the central tent. This I found troubling given the tensions we have been hearing back at The Spiral Tower between you and the humans.

Finally addressing Sky Runner's concerned provocation, Sol speaks sternly: As to my hidden presence: I make it a point of carefully surveying what troubles me before inserting myself into the unknown.

Sol snaps his gloved fingers.

Alas, allow me to introduce my traveling companion, Luna.

Stalking out of the darkness, Luna dexterously glides her way to Sol's side.

Now, I gather you're in a bit of a bind right now. How may I be of assistance?

Spoiler

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Though Sol has spoken in earnest, here is a roll to see how Sol's words might have influenced Sky Runner's disposition with the valence of his discourse.

Diplomacy : (1d20+8)[15]

[Polymath]

Sky Runner takes a nimble step backward as Sol unexpectedly rises from the darkness, clearly startled by the Eladrin's sudden appearance. His gold-ringed eyes catch the moonlight as they widen in startled recognition at the appearance of the Spiral Tower sigil, and he hastily lowers his bow, restowing it across his long equine back with a single practiced motion.

Master Sol, apologies. Stone Hoof told us to be expecting you, but with all the trouble recently, I guess your welcoming party sort of fell by the way.

The centaur listens to Sol recount the visions of Elfharrow's rolling fields and lush forests with a faint and wistful smile, nodding in recollection.

You speak as one who has a passion for the land, not that I would expect any less for one of the Fey Guardians. Things have changed more than you know, and none of it for the better. Maybe your being here is a step toward the first good change this land has seen in a generation. Stone Hoof had enough faith in your Spiral Tower to request one of you, and that's good enough for me, but some of the others might not be as accepting; hard times had made for hard feelings toward outsiders, and not everyone has the long memory to know that your people and ours have shared a common bond through the ages.

Sky Runner grins ruefully, exposing a mouth full of distinctly horse-like teeth as Sol recounts what he's seen in the camp.

Found that, did you? Not something I'm proud of, I tell you true, but with Stone Hoof gone there's not much anyone can do to control the more...confrontational members of the tribe. It was all I could manage to get them to give up the assault yesterday, especially that hoof-rotted fool Wind Charger; he wants all out war on the Encroachers--er, humans--to drive them out of Elfharrow entirely. I think he'd take the campaign beyond that to the borderkingdoms to the north if he had the support. Stone Hoof was no friend to the humans, but he was always reasonable in his plans; driving them out does no good if we're all dead, now does it? In any case, your caution was probably for the best, as half my crew would have been liable to fill you with arrows from 100 paces if they'd found you just lingering by our camp like this...though I imagine you're harder to kill than you look. He grins wryly.

Sky Runner jumps backward almost comically as Luna pads out of the shadows, clearly startled again.

By the gods! A Feywild Panther! I've never seen one in the flesh! 'Luna,' eh? A beauty she is, a beauty! They say Feywild Panthers won't ever tame, but they'll willingly follow those with claws as sharp as their own.

A palpable tone of awe and reverence has crept into his voice.

Trouble? Oh yes, right.

The centaur seems to snap out of his reverie, and his eyes leave Luna and fix on Sol once again.

Yes, we've got trouble. Why don't you come on in to the camp and I'll introduce you around. We're not entirely inhospitable, you know.

Without waiting for you to respond, Sky Runner starts off, still talking as he goes.

Stone Hoof and two of our best scouts were off on a recon mission less than a tenday ago when they vanished. We're still not clear on all the details, but it looks like the Encr--humans--dug a pit trap for them, knocked 'em out, and dragged them to their stronghold. We captured the three you saw skulking around outside our camp.

Sky Runner leads you through the opening into the camp, ducking his head slightly (and unnecessarily) as he passes under the archway.

They claim not to know anything, but they're clearly spies. We're holding them until we hear from the humans about a prisoner exchange. Things are tense.

The centaur stops near the tent you first found when you arrived, puts his hand in his mouth, and whistles piercingly. 15 or so centaurs stop their conversation, move away from the now merrily burning fire, and assemble in a loose half-circle around the two of you.

Tribesmen, this is Sol and his companion Luna. They are sent from the Spiral Tower to aid us in our time of need. Let us welcome them well and truly.

There is an assortment of mutterings from the crowd, with more than a few "we don't need his kind" and "what can a two-leg possibly do for us" and "probably an Encroacher spy." It seems you have your work cut out for you.

[vincentblight]

Sol looks carefully at the circling crowd, carefully noting the more "confrontational" voices.

Spoiler

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Sol looks around to memorize those faces.
Perception: (1d20+12)[22]

Carefully composes himself, Sol begins speaking slow and methodically: I want to first make it quite crystal clear that I am not, nor ever have been affiliated with these humans encroaching upon the land of Elfharrow. I understand that to the untrained eye, an Eladrin might be confused with a human; this I can pardon. But, any further insinuations of an affiliation between myself and these humans will taken as an hostile attack upon my heritage and dignity. As a protector of the Feywild, I have no sympathies for those who desecrate nature and threaten my fellow Fey denizens.

Spoiler

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Sol directs his fierce gaze at those individuals who questioned his origins or motivations, asserting his dominance over those troublemakers.
Intimidate: (1d20+11)[30]

Now... Sol closes his eyes momentarily to clear the grim expression from his face. Adjusting his silver-blue, leather armor, he begins again in a softer tone. I am here with Stone Hoof's blessing as an emissary from The Spiral Tower to help in any way I can with your efforts to repel the encroaching humans from these lands. The Elfharrow, this ancient untamed and pristine land, was once my home, and I shall not live to see her fall into the hands of these destructive humans.

Sol looks knowingly behind the circling group at the large tent in the encampment.

Spoiler

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Sol tries to remember some details of the local human inhabitants.
History: (1d20+11)[15]

I understand you have captured some human spies from the settlement which has seized Stone Hoof and a few of your fellow centaurs. I also gather that you have been somewhat less than successful in getting information out of them.

Sol gestures towards Luna with a wry grin. Luna, as if by cue, snarls her lips back, exposing gleaming-white fangs dripping with streams of ethereal saliva.

Perhaps after you have informed me about your recent encounters with the humans, I can try my luck at making your captives more enthusiastic in their willingness to cooperate.

Luna growls a purring at once sensual and deeply unsettling.

Folding his arms across his chest, Sol continues gleaming: So my friends, where shall we begin?

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Sol tries his charismatic charm on the circled centaurs. Despite his initial fury at those who questioned his motivation, Sol is quite pleased to have come to the end of his journey at the encampment of fellow Fey decedents.
Diplomacy: (1d20+8)[17]

[Polymath]

Looking around, you note (and attempt to memorize) the loudest grumblers. There are three that seem to be particularly skeptical: a large, coal-black centaur with a silvery head of hair, a roan female with two short swords in scabbards along her sides, and a young male with a mottled black-and-white patterning. They notice you taking their measure, and all but the black drop their gazes to the ground at your words.

Most of the assembled centaurs, however, seem rather impressed with your speech, and there is a scattering of hooves thumping on the ground in approval once you fall silent.

Sky Runner speaks for the crowd once the "applause" has ended.

We welcome your help, and affirm that we are well-met under the stars. The wizards of the Spiral Tower have long been a friend to our people, and we will not forget this.

There is more muttering from the three you marked at this statement, though less than before. The muttering stops abruptly when Luna gives her display. Wind Runner clears his throat.

Yes, yes, you are certainly welcome to try. If we're going to make a go of taking back these lands, our first move should definitely be trying to free our lost comrades. Any information they can give us will be more than helpful.

He gestures to the tent. Come, I shall accompany you and observe your...technique.


The assembled centaurs begin to disperse back to the fire, though more than a few gazes--some awed, some mistrustful, some simply curious--follow you as you move toward the central tent with Sky Runner.

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History: You know that the humans of the area were, until very recently, nomadic barbarian tribes primarily. It is only since the Spellplague (and the subsequent withdrawal of most of the fey creatures) that they have begun to coalesce into villages and towns.

[vincentblight]

SOL:

Sol and Luna exchange hopeful glances, and follow Sky Runner into the
central tent.

As the tent flaps close behind them, Sol gestures for the remaining
centaur guards to leave. Though the humans are certainly an
annoyance, their slaughter risks the lives of Stone Hoof and his
fellow centaur companions--that is, should they still be alive after
over a week of captivity. Sky Runner at least seems more sensible
than some of his fellow tribesman who would delight at the opportunity
to bring on a full-out war. Sol watches as the guards exit, leaving
only himself, Luna, Sky Runner, and the two human captives.

Sol approaches the two human captives, giving them both a furtive eying over.
Perception (Pack Alertness, Sol / Luna): (1d20+14)[27] / (1d20+12)[14]
Insight: (1d20+7)[27]

Intertwining his finger briefly in a fanning gesture to fit his
gloves, Sol saunters toward the prisoners. This will be a very
delicate operation, Sol considers.

"Greetings mundanes. I require your utmost attention." As he
finishes these last few words, Sol strikes the prisoners briskly
across their jaws. "Now then. I am an emissary from The Spiral Tower
sent to settle matters here in Elfharrow. I understand others of your
kin have captured a few of my centaur friends here. This displeases
me."

Sol, grimly grins at the prisoners. Crouching slowly, he scratches
Luna behind her acutely alert ears as she bears her fearsome fangs
challengingly. Sol returns to a stand and moves uncomfortably close
to each prisoner in turn; the sense of violation is apparent on the
faces of each prisoner. They can feel his exhalation warm against
their stinging faces.

Aid Another - Intimidate (Luna): (1d20+5)[6]

Almost whispering in their ears, Sol continues sensually: "We can do
this several ways. One, my feyborn companion here can have her
dinner. She usually prefers tearing the limbs from redcaps. Their
flesh has a unique marinade from their constant bathing in blood."
Smiling warmly, "But, that is of no concern; a minor cantrip and she
won't be able to taste the difference." Sol bites the earlobe of one
of the captives, just enough to break the skin with his unusually
elongated canines.

Stepping back from the prisoners, Sol looks over his shoulder to Sky
Runner. In a bold voice: "Or, you can cooperate with us and hope that
Sky Runner here is able to find a way for you to walk away from all
this alive. He does not wish to see his people fill your worthless
bodies with arrows like an ample pin cushion. But I assure you, if
you are destined to die this night, being eaten alive by my panther
will be the most excruciating experience you could possible fathom."
Almost as an afterthought, "she rather enjoys taking her time,
savoring every delicious morsel of her meals."

Luna turns away from the prisoners to glance at Sol, rolling her eyes cattily.

Intimidate (Sol, not including Aid Another): [roll]1d20+14 Intimidate[/roll]

Sol slides towards a nearby table and leans against the table-top edge
waiting to hear their reply.

[vincentblight]

Spoiler

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Sorry, this is b/c of my mistyping of the roll line in the post above.

Intimidate (Sol, not including Aid Another): (1d20+14)[24]

[Polymath]

The prisoners regard Sol with clear malice as he enters the tent with Sky Runner. You can read in their posture that they have no intention to cooperate with you, but that behind their hard eyes is a hint of fear and...confusion? You're almost sure of it. Things have not gone according to plan one way or another, and now these prisoners have found themselves in a situation they were not prepared for. Still, the rage and contempt is definitely at the forefront, and only your skilled probings and almost unconscious reading of body language--a product of your time with Luna--tells you that there is anything more than defiance and anger here.

Sweat beads on the faces of the three assembled humans as your performance continues, and you can see your breathing quicken as you come closer and closer to them. With the bite on the earlobe, one of the men can no longer take the pressure, and begins to scream behind his gag and struggle against his bonds.

Sky Runner looks somewhat pale, as if he is also taken aback by the quality of your technique.

I believe...I believe we have a volunteer. Let us continue this conversation in private, shall we?

The centaur moves to the log to which the three are secured, and deftly loosens the bonds of the man in the middle. Blood trickles down the side of the human's face from your bite, and you can sense Luna's barely contained excitement from the scent in the air. She is almost quivering with the desire to eat...to hunt.

Sky Runner drags the man roughly to his feet, and leads him out the door and to a small hut across the camp. All the tribes' eyes follow the four of you as you move through the warm summer night, and you can hear whispered speculations about what has transpired in the tent.

A moment later, you arrive at the hut, and Sky Runner shoves the man rudely through the door. The human sprawls in the dust, rapidly rolling over on his back and kicking himself back into the corner away from you, hands held up in a defensive posture.

Don't know anything! Don't know anything! Please!

His words are nearly incomprehensible with terror.

[vincentblight]

SOL:

Come here Luna. Sol directs his attention towards the captive. Let's see if she can do some tricks to earn herself dinner. Turning towards Luna: Sit girl. Watching Luna obediently squat on her haunches: Good girl! Sol, scratches her behind her ears.

Sol takes a few steps towards the captive: Now, if you can perform better than she does, I'll see if I can find her something else to eat for supper. If you answer unsatisfactorily, drawing his longsword, I will feed Luna hors d'œuvres made from chunks of your flesh before I let her devour whatever remains of you for the entree.

Intimidate: (1d20+14)[33] (Very tiny morcels...)

Now, I understand you were found a short while ago spying on this encampment. What were you doing here?

Insight: (1d20+7)[12]

Several of my fey-kin were captured not more than a ten-day ago. I require their safe return to this encampment. How might this be arranged so that you, your fellow captives, your settlement, and every friend, acquaintance, and family member of yours isn't hunted and slaughtered like animals by me and my associates here. Sol nods to Stone Hoof.

Bluff: (1d20+6)[25] (Sol doesn't have the time or desire to slaughter everyone this poor sap has ever known if he should prove to be useless.)
Intimidate: (1d20+14)[26] (Mass-murder is scary.)
Insight: (1d20+7)[11]

[Polymath]

The poor "spy," obviously unaccustomed to such treatment, breaks like a ****ing twig under Sol's terrifying display. Tears streaming down his face, he falls on his knees before the Eladrin and clutches at his coat pitifully.

P-p-p-please, m-my lord! I h-have a w-w-wife! She's d-done n-nothing to y-y-you! I'll t-t-tell you everything! We're not no spies at all! We're just s-some hunters from Plaingate sent to s-see if we could find some g-g-game over this way! S-s-seer Jonah told us that our f-faith would be rewarded, and that we would be given a sign of our right to the l-land, and we were! He k-knew where to p-put a trap to catch three of the horse-men! The G-gods told him! He said t-there was g-game over this way, and s-so we believed him! Please! You have to believe me! Just let us go, kind sir! Don't f-feed me to that thing! Pleeeeeeeease!

The last word rises until it's nearly a wail. He's basically hysterical now, and you don't sense that he's holding anything of consequence back.

[vincentblight]

Sol turns to Sky Runner.

Wow... I thought these mundanes would have more self-discipline than this. Well, at least we know they're not spies. Let's bring him back to the others and then plan our rescue mission. What do you think?

Returning his gaze to the prisoner, Sol laughs light-heartedly. Keep up the blustering show and the other centaurs might find you too pitiful to kill. That would be my advice.

[Polymath]

The man seems to sag as you step away from him, and for a moment you assume that it is with relief at your departure. An instant later, you know this isn't so: something is in the room with you, and it's now directly behind your interrogation subject. This is confirmed a moment later as the source of the man's sag is revealed: a wickedly sharp looking black blade pierces through his chest, twists once, and then withdraws silently, vanishing behind him again. A scarlet river begins to pour from the wound as the man coughs once, then pitches forward onto the earth. Skyrunner, apparently distracted in thought, has not yet even noticed what has happened.

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Initiative. As a result of my terrible, terrible stealth roll, you know that there is an invisible creature present and can pinpoint it as directly behind the body of the man. Skyrunner failed his passive perception check, and has not yet noticed what transpired (which should have been the case for you as well). Damn you, and such. I'll get a map of the whole camp up soon, but in the meantime, the tent you're in now is roughly circular and 4 squares in diameter. You're near the center, and the entrance/exit is along the Eastern wall. The body of the man is slumped in the northwestern area, with the invisible creature sliding along the wall behind him. The walls of the tent are of tanned hide stretched across a wooden frame (which is to say that the tent can't just be lifted up and exited from anywhere).