Finishing Strike (IC)

[Nihilarian]

Abraham momentarily frowns at the high ranking guard, but he seems more concerned with the captain. He seems surprised to see them. "Captain! What are you doing here?"

[Deathkeeper]

I knew I should have just bitten the stupid things.
Normally this is where I'd point out that I never actually used the thing, but unfortunately, I did read those papers. Ready-to-use my- Oh! Right, (extending a modestly talon-ed hand to Liresha)You may call me Klen, ma'am, and I'm a Tengu, for the record. He hoped he was hiding his slight irritation well, because this was fourth time today he'd been referred to as such. Being called "Bird" as an insult barely bothered him, but being called as such in that "Since-when-does-your-species-exist" tone was just annoying, especially in a city, where half of the time Tengus were more common than Elves.

(OOC: I think I'm changing colors to a lighter blue, because I actually can't tell the difference between navy and black in my earlier posts)

[BTB]

Kizziar though about running. He might have too, he was used to having to leave towns to continue his journey at this point. There was no evidence of anything that would remove his affliction in this town, from what he'd seen, and there were no real ties keeping him here. However, he still hadn't adequately resupplied for another journey, and he had no idea how far the next town would be.

However, arrest wasn't exactly an appealing option either. It looked like it was time to do something he'd done many times before when people reacted poorly to the "Orc spraying magic all over the place." Talk his way out of it. He strode purposefully to the guard who had been yelling, and launched into a speech.

"I assume you are a figure of some standing in this guard, judging by how you order your colleagues around. Which I'll also assume means that you, at least on some small level, care about the well being of this city, so allow me to pose a question: Do you honestly think your men could've ensured the safety of this town? I ask because I not only saw a band of creatures pulled off the street outfighting them, but because one of them flat out ran from the fight. Sir, if we had not intervened, your guards would've stood little chance against such a threat, and I'm sure any of them would agree that we drew arms only for the well being of this towns people, which would've surely been otherwise compromised. I cannot speak for my compatriots, but I assure you I will not draw arms again within Finishing Strike so long as the safety of your citizens is ensured, and I'd wager the others who drew arms would do the same.

I do apologize, but you yourself said the one job those guards were tasked with was too difficult for them, and so we stepped up for the safety of your citizens. I submit to the agreement we signed, and if you will have us jailed, so be it, but I do believe it is a great mistake on your part. If you'd allow us to go free, I'll gladly agree to leave my weapon sheathed next time I see your city in danger."

It was a tad more confrontational that Kizziar generally wanted to be when he tried to talk his way out of things, but the words were out, and the die had been cast. Now he could only await a response.

Spoiler

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I believe in the future I'll attempt to make my diplomancing a little more, well, diplomatic. Either way, that was fun. Rolling diplomacy check.

(1d20+8)[10](18)

[Fibinachi]

"... for the record."

Shaking limbs with a creature possessing more talons than fingers was interesting. Polite fellow, though.

"Much obliged, Sir Klen. Sorry about the... Bird thing. Uncouth, I take it. I simply have not encountered many Tengu up close. You would be the first, and a very good beginning, I suppose. I would blush at my impoliteness, but you would not be able to see it for the scarf. Forgive me? "

So far, so good. No one was pointing fingers or muttering about demons. There was shouting, but not the kind that hinted at immediate problems of the mob and pitchfork kind. This was the much more manageable problem of an officer attempting to coerce a scene to order. Lirisha let out a breath she hadn't been aware of holding in, and finally felt her nerves beginning to settle. She still had an urge to sneeze, yet that would fade soon and with not a soul pointing fingers, she could focus on more important matters. Such as trying to untangle the strands of what was quickly becoming a web of shouting, orders and arrests.

The half-orc - Kizziar? Kisser? No, no. The first one - was trying to stem the tide diplomatically. Eloquently, even. And if honour and reason worked their allure, perhaps a little perspective could bolster the decision process too.

"... If you'd allow us to go free, I'll gladly agree to leave my weapon sheathed next time I see your city in danger."

She nodded at the two figures in front of her quickly and, following an impulse, winked before raising her voice just enough to carry.
"... Heh, you think we're in trouble for saving everyone, Klen? Guys? I guess they will clamp us in chains and march us off while the people cheer, right? That would be a lovely parade. That will go over really well with everyone, I guess. If you fight to protect the life of guards and citymen, you will go to jail... If you are Klen, what might your name be, Sir Archer?"

Spoiler

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Observe as I use a mere scarf and cantrip to become, before your very eyes, an ogre! DISGUISE CHECK. Sorry, couldn't resist.

However, typing dialogue in play by post can be difficult because it's easy to slip into a monologue. Anyone Lirisha is talking to can interrupt at any time, so feel free to just do so, since they're not frozen in time while she talks.

[Deathkeeper]

Klen wonders if anyone's ever cut themselves on those claws of hers. His weren't nearly sizable enough to actually deal much damage, but a few of his neighbors had claws nearly that size, so he wasn't bothered at all shaking her hand. To have them at all, though, she was definitely highly magic or not human (or both). The obvious hesitance to reveal her face implies the latter, but this really wasn't the time to try and figure it out.

Spoiler

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Come to think of it, unless you group them together as being "outcast" races, it's unlikely Klen's ever even heard of Tieflings besides the meaning of the word, so I'll leave it up to a Knowledge: Local check to see if he'll have any ideas from the basic evidence
(1d20+4)[23]

...Guys?
Actually, just us. I don't think there's a law against punching undead or being a woman, so I'd assume you're fine.

[Machinekng]

These pretenious worms thought they could arrest him! Lock him away in a cell to rot! To deny his freedom!

On what grounds!

Damn their government, damn their society, damn their civilization, as if it could be called that!

He would tear them limb from limb! He would rip out their throats and bath in their blood!

No, not here. Not now.

No reason to cause a fuss. Yet. Nothing to gain.

Halphax watched the others try to negotiate. As if angels would commune with ants! Huh.

Halphax himself stood back. He was never good with words. Better let the strangers handle it. He'd treat them to whatever forsaken poison they fancied for hedonistic temporary pleasure at the inn.

He did, however, study the angles.

Spoiler

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Perception: What are the guards armed with? How close are they in relation to Halphax? Is there any clear exit paths?
(d20+7)[24]

[Komodo]

"Captain! What are you doing here?" Abraham asked.

Grazzom snorted, and then turned to Abraham. "I imagine the same thing you are, Abe. We heard the warning bell, and came running up to offer our help. Looks like a you and few others decided to do your part, and got the job done already." Grazzom casually spat, then continued, "And it appears Sergeant Harmony is taking it about as well as could be expected."

Next to Grazzom, the tengu said "Sergeant Harmony," and then a few words in the tengu language that didn't sound very polite.

"Don't disrespect him," Grazzom said, turning to the crow. "He may be strict, but he works hard to keep the town orderly and the shops open." Turning back to the scene at the gate, he added, "Not that that'll make this any easier."

Meanwhile, Sergeant Harmony was taking a challenge to his authority about as well as could be expected.

"OH! Excuse ME!" The sergeant replied to Kizziar. "APPARENTLY, I can now RETIRE, because it seems YOU are better equipped to deal with managing the CITY GUARD than I will EVER BE, despite my TRAINING and EXPERIENCE! Do you INDEED think that I am UNAWARE of the state of my own TROOPS, who report to me DAILY! Or do you BELIEVE that I should permit any YAHOO with a POINTY STICK to go ahead and CHARGE a SQUADRON OF THE UNDEAD!

"There are TWO reasons why I will not proceed to TIE your FEET together and HANG you UPSIDE DOWN for the AMUSEMENT OF CHILDREN right now! ONE! You seem to be GENUINELY concerned for the well-being of this GLORIOUS CITY! TWO! You are certainly WELL-SPOKEN, and I can RESPECT that in an INDIVIDUAL! So LISTEN! You all REPORT to SILAS here and come down to the COUNCIL for QUESTIONING! If you BEHAVE, that is the WORST that will happen, and we can all go about our day! GOT IT!" Sergeant Harmony's loud voice was turning out to be less of a tactic for commanding the guards and more of a mere habit. One might at this point be led to wonder if he did not use the same tone to compliment his wife's baked yams.

Behind the confrontation, a crow, a demonesque, and a psychic reptile each began working out how to deal with the situation in their own way.

Klen considered the woman with whom he had shaken hands. Thinking about it, he knew he had seen a few other humanoids with strange characteristics: discolored skin, tails, hooves, or tiny, useless wings. Tiefling had been the word to describe them, and those he had seen had come and gone from the city mostly unmolested. However, this was mostly because people were afraid of them. Few started a conversation with them willingly, and a few merchants outright refused to barter with them. For this reason, the majority of Tieflings who passed through Finishing Strike lived in the caves. As far as he knew, there was only one Tiefling who lived in the city. Apparently, that one managed a decent amount of the city's food distributors, and was quite rich. If nothing else, this meant that there was nary a restaurant that could turn away a Tiefling.

Halphax looked around him, and considered his options. Most of the guards were armed with shortswords, and wore the Emblem of Tholoro on top of what looked like chain shirts. One guard (R15) was armed with a falchion, and the shouting officer had a shield and longsword. He also looked a bit stronger and experienced than the soldiers around him. He was the closest to Halphax, about 25-30 feet away. As for escape paths, Halphax remembered that he was on the main road that ran to and from the cave settlements. Behind him, the ground began to get hilly as the road approached the mountains surrounding Finishing Strike. If he took off, he would soon be behind cover. That was, if they even bothered to chase after him. It was not uncommon for an individual who felt uncomfortable or unwelcome in the city to move into the caves.

Lirisha considered the proper balance of magic and scarf-manipulation to make herself look like an ogre. However, as she began to put her plan into action, she began to wonder how such a feat would be accomplished, and what she had intended to accomplish with it. She abandoned the idea, although it did make her chuckle.

[BTB]

"I thank you, for both the compliment and not arresting these fine people." He turns to face the others. "I bear good news, if you couldn't hear the yelling. We will not be jailed, however everyone except the fiendish-" He notices her concealing scarf and hat. He wasn't the only one prepared for negative reaction to race in the city, apparently. "Pardon me, everyone except the two humans have to come with Silas here for questioning."

He briefly looks back at the guards. He fears they'll quickly grow impatient. "I suggest we become better acquainted on the way."

[Nihilarian]

Abraham nods to the Captain. "One of the guards ran away. I think me and the half-orc took out most of them, though it was pretty hectic." Abe hesitates, frowning. "And now they're getting sort-of arrested. And I'm not. If I didn't know any better I'd say this city has it in for anyone not human."

[Komodo]

"If I didn't know any better I'd say this city has it in for anyone not human."

Grazzom grunted. "Finishing Strike is a city where many races can and have reached power and wealth by the merits of their own hands." He then gave his head a slight shake and continued, "but Tholoro is an empire founded and controlled by humans, and poisons at the root of the tree find their way to the leaves." He turned. "I have some business to attend to, Abe. However, I would like you to follow them. They might want your testimony anyway. Once that's done, could you bring them to Wolfram Lane? I should like to talk to them. If Sergeant Harmony gets uppity, give him this." Grazzom handed Abraham an unsealed letter, and walked away, the tengu right behind him.

Meanwhile, one of the guards approached Kizziar and the others. He was a dwarf, short and stout, with a starkly blonde beard. Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out a notepad and a rustic pencil. Apparently, this was Silas. In contrast to his commander, he was quiet and professional as he spoke. "Now then, everyone, if I could have your name, race, and citizenry status, please. Also, I'll need to take your primary weapon. Weapons will be returned at the council for a small fee, which may be paid within one week."

All of you should have your basic entry papers, and your citizenry status is "transitory", indicating you have been given a set stay to decide whether to stay or not.

Finally, the Sergeant made his way up to Lirisha, and began addressing her in a calm, gentlemanly voice (or at least, what could have been thought of as a futile attempt at a calm, gentlemanly voice)

"PARDON ME, miss, but would you MIND coming along with US? I could USE another PERSPECTIVE on the events that OCCURRED here, and YOU appeared to have been CAUGHT in the THICK of it. And EXCUSE me for asking, but don't you find it a bit WARM for a SCARF?"

[BTB]

"Kizziar, Half-Orc, Transitory." He unsheathes the axe and hands it to Silas. "I trust it'll be returned in good form." Not that he cared, he had other things he could do besides swinging an axe around, though it was certainly inconvenient. He shrugged it off. He'd have it back soon enough.

[Deathkeeper]

" except the fiendish-"

Ha! I was totally righ- wait a second. When in the Abyss did he have time to figure it out?!
He continued to grumble under his breath about holy men and their figuring out all the fun secrets before him as he takes his spot in the line'
Klen Moore. Tengu. Transitory. He holds out his hand with the mace (which I just realized he's been holding this whole time) to Silas.

[Machinekng]

Halphax relented, and gave the guard his bow. Bastard.

Nothing to be done about it, yet.

Progress was inevitable, however.

Halphax, Ophiduan, Transitory.

[Komodo]

The walk to the Council was not unpleasant. However, the next hour or two were spent in a drab room with a blonde Dwarf discussing the same thirty-second incident, after which he had the audacity to charge for the whole ordeal (4 gp if you have had your weapon confiscated, if you can't afford it, the city will hold it for one week) When the group left, they found the sun had disappeared from the sky. The sky was still decently bright, however, the sun had dropped behind the mountains that surrounded the massive crater within which Finishing Strike had been built. These mountains cast their shadows over the town, but the city stayed visible as civil workers with candle-poles moved down the street, lighting lamp-posts on their way. Street merchants and other shops were beginning to close up for the night. Other venues were just beginning to liven up.

[BTB]

The clerk tells Kizziar they'll hold his weapon for a week, giving him ample time to gather the money required. For now, the day was ending, and he had no real plans. What harm was there in spending some time with those he fought with? He exited with the others?

"Well, now what shall we do?"

[Machinekng]

Halphax responded to Kizzar's query.

I'm not sure.

Halphax stared towards the setting sun and the mountains.

The monsters had come from there.

Would they come again?

It's getting late. I owe you a debt, and I have a room at the inn near the gate.

[Deathkeeper]

Oh, right. I haven't gotten myself a place to stay. That could be problematic.
All right, let's see if we can't stay there, then.
He turns to the Half-Orc
I noticed you never got your axe back. If you really think you'll need it I can spot you on this one.
I realized I really shouldn't be tossing my money around like this, but there are times you have to help someone out, right?

[BTB]

I'd gladly take up on both your offers, but I'd hasten to remind you that neither of you owe me anything for my efforts. I'd believe the opposite is true actually. While it'd certainly be more convenient to have his axe back, Kizziar was somewhat hesitant to take favors from these people. He still wasn't sure why they were fighting, but they were of great assistance to his religious duty through it. If anything, he owed them. You will of course both be repaid sever times over for such generosity.

[Nihilarian]

Abraham approaches the odd looking group. He clears his throat, and says "Excuse me, my name is Abraham, and I work for Wolfram Lane Unofficial. We fought together earlier? My captain would like to speak to you." He notices that the half-orc is weapon-less. "You lost your axe?"

[BTB]

I didn't have enough to pay the fee to have it returned, but I implore you, don't trouble yourself over it. I'm sure I can gather the gold myself.

[Fibinachi]

"...gold myself"

Serendipitous timing. Liresha had been distracted so far, marveling at the way the streets were transforming. And to think they did this every night. Stalls out, people out, drinks being served somewhere. If you had some sort of esoteric sensory capacity, you could probably smell the hopes and dreams of night dwellers all over the city. Liresha sniffed the air once and smiled. A drink, a dance, something to eat - priorities all in all a little better than dodging blows from undead monstrosities.

"Hey, what if I pressure you into accepting help? I got a scratch, had a scratch and you took care of that. I'm not sure what the going rate on magic is, though, so an axe sounds like a good deal back. We'll split a pitcher of water, or something, and grab your axe in the morning?"

Given twelve hours to work with, she figured she could scrounge up enough coin by either asking, begging or loaning. A favor for a favor, that sort of thing. It'd be a good cloak for her curiosity, anyway.

"Oh. Sir Abraham, did you mean to indicate that your captain wanted to speak with us now? Because if so, maybe, he'd be up for trading an axe for some menial little errand. We-- you, Sir Kizziar, could even offer to find out where the skeletons came from?"

[Nihilarian]

Abe grunts. "No need for that. Whatever the captain wants you for, it's probably because of how well you fought. You're more use to him if I get the axe back for you." Abe will walk in and pay to get the axe back.

[BTB]

Kizziar nods. A favor to the captain seems much more agreeable than taking charity from those who helped me. Abraham, was it? If your captain wishes to speak with us, we should go. He jumped at the opportunity to earn his weapon back himself. He couldn't fathom why they thought THEY owed HIM. Did they not realize he only did his religious duty? That he healed them because their time to go was not now? That he fought the undead because they defied his deity? He shrugged it off. No point worrying over it. He apparently had more officials to see.

EDIT: Disregard, Abe replied while I was typing. Rather, Kizziar shrugs. He still wonders why they seem to think they owe him, but figures it easier if just accepts it and lets them buy the axe back. I see you'll not be convinced. Very well, I accept the offer, but I do insist on repaying you eventually

[Komodo]

After having conversed on the street after their conversation, the group consented to be led to Wolfram Lane, a short road just south and west of the Council. The half-orc had resisted the other members attempting to provide him charity, but eventually his pride was worn down and he consented to have the fine on his axe paid for him by Abraham. The paladin then proceeded to lead them to the offices where he had been hired.

The office of the Wolfram Lane Unofficial was decently simple. The main floor consisted of only a wide room with a series of benches and a few tables, laid out so that someone could give lectures or assignments to a group sitting on the benches. There was also an open spiraling staircase leading to the second floor, where there were a few offices. When Abraham unlocked the main door, he saw captain Grazzom, the tengu, and a third figure whose features were obscured by a hooded cloak.

Grazzom was a paladin like Abraham. He had taken off his light armor and was dressed more casually. Next to him was the tengu, which was wearing the same robe that it had been wearing earlier. It was distinguished by a purple ring painted around its beak. Klen Moore may immediately recognize the tengu as female. To everyone else, it's a DC 15 perception check. Finally, the cloaked figure looked humanoid, but their features were very well obscured. Any info on this one requires a perception check of unknown difficulty. Together, they were gathered in the front of the room, looking over a map and engaged in heated discussion over something. Grazzom looked up as they entered.

"Ah! Abe! Wasn't sure if you'd show up tonight. See you brought your friends. Excellent." He moved over to a table on the side. "There is something I want to discuss with you, but if you just came from the Council, there's more urgent business at hand." With that, he pulled at a cloth on the table, revealing a quartet of kegs marked Dwarven Beer, Tholoran Red, Mountain Milk, and Svassi Mead. There were also a collection of metal cups. "Perhaps once you've had your fill, you'll be a bit more favorably dispose toward what I'm going to ask."

[Nihilarian]

Abe nods, selecting a cup. He goes for the mead. "I waited until the council was finished with them. Seemed easier that way, though if it had gone on much longer I might have seen just how much that piece of paper you gave me was worth." He nods toward the cloaked figure. "Guest, or client?"

[Fibinachi]

The captain engaged Abraham in conversation straight off the bat and they seemed to get along well. Whoever the two figures in the background where, one of them had absolutely mastered the art of cloaking oneself in layers of obscurity. It was impressive. It also made it near absolutely impossible to gather any impressions.

Spoiler

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Perception check:
Tengu:(d20)[16]
Mysteryious Figure:(d20)[1]

And that was what really what made Liresha relax. The Wolfram Lane office was the kind of simple place where people more focused on patrols than interior decoration hung out. Professionals or the kind of people who really wanted to be professional. And quasi military groups generally did not let obscured figures stand around if they were any danger.

She executed a quick bow and sidestepped towards the offered refreshments, gave them a quick once over and then stopped short. The Wolframs were offering a fair amount of good drinks, the same kind of drinks that normally meant waking up in a shady inn hours later with a blinding headache and stolen trinkets and knickknacks picked from random passersby.
She sighed, shook her head and grabbed a metal cup. She had her own water skin, and it would do. Well, it would do with a bit of fiddling.

Sitting down at the closest bench, ears primed to listen for the Captain's answer, Liresha takes a breath and attempts to slide enough intention past reality for her little will to flavor the water something better than tasteless.

Liresha will find a bench near the group to sit on and mumble a little for herself while moving her fingers around in a strange pattern. She is casting Prestidigation, the cantrip, to flavor her water. And then she will listen very attentively to the Captain's answer.

[BTB]

Spoiler

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(1d20-1)[10] for Tengu
[roll]1d20-1[/roll] for cloaked figure
Huh. Didn't work. Lets try again.
[roll]1d20-1[/roll]
Screw it, I'll go roll it in the OOC thread.

Kizziar largely ignores the conversation between Abe and the captain, figuring he'll be brought in when he was needed. For now he was to experience a pleasure often partaken in during his long travels; Taking a few random strangers and getting drunk beyond belief. Really, there was a simple joy in getting together with others and making collective fools of yourselves.

On that note, Kizziar quickly made his way to the Dwarven brew, filled a cup and downed it. He began filling a second cup. It would be a good night tonight, terrible morning be damned.

[Deathkeeper]

Klen enters the room quietly with the others, not saying anything but tipping his hat to his hosts. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd come, except perhaps that doing so felt like the right thing to be doing. Still, he's largely disinterested in the current affairs, although he is thankful that the captain is being civil. And the "ask" thing sure sounds like a job, and jobs usually mean pay, so this could be a very good thing. He takes a cup with a small sample of the Red, although he's swirling it gently more than he is actually drinking it.
Perception check: (1d20+7)[13]

[Komodo]

I suppose I made my last post a bit ambiguous. They're standing right next to each other, I wasn't going to make you roll separately. If you rolled twice, I merely took the highest roll. Only Lirisha and the tengu were able to discern anything about tengu anatomy.



"Guest, or client?"

"All in good time, Abe," replied Grazzom, as he filled himself a glass of the dwarven beer for himself. Abraham noticed that his captain quarter-filled the glass with water before adding in the potent brew.

The other half-orc, on the other hand, charged ahead fearless and began downing a glass of undiluted beer. It was certainly strong, and gave an aftertaste of earth and grain. Smacking his lips around his tusks, he recklessly filled his glass again. Kizziar, roll a fortitude save.

Abraham and Klen temperately poured themselves samples of the mead and wine, respectively. The Tholoran Red was a decently strong wine, but sweet and refreshing. Abraham's mead was very sweet, nearly masking the alcohol. Halphax merely stood there, eyeing the drinks but not yet taking advantage of them.

As Lirisha finished her spell, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. The tengu - the one working for Wolfram, not Klen - was watching her. His - no, wait...the beak is too slender, and the body too curved - her expression was hard to read, but she seemed interested. Lirisha noticed the tengu wore a pouch on her belt, similar to the one she herself used to store her sells' material components in. Perhaps this crow was also a practitioner of the arcane arts?

As the group began to enjoy their drinks, Grazzom moved back to the table in the front of the room and stared down at the map. The map was labeled with a language none of the newcomers understood, but seemed to be portraying a series of tunnels.

"These," began Grazzom, "are the caves of Finishing Strike. The races dwelling there call it Pandavleni, and while clearly separated, it is treated as an extension of Finishing Strike and as such it is considered a part of the Tholoran Empire.

"Now, as Abraham knows, the Wolfram Lane Unofficial is a small group reporting to the viscountess whose job it is to maintain diplomatic relations with the caves and the tribes within. As long as the mineral trade is maintained, the emperor is content to let them alone in there.

"However, there have been recent...disquiet coming from the caves. Various monsters that we normally fight of for them have been escaping the their natural confines and reaching the city. Two weeks ago, it might be a swarm of rats, the occasional giant slug...annoyances, but nothing serious. Recently, undead have been showing up at irregular intervals. As you can imagine, that's been taken bit more seriously."

Grazzom wet his lips with beer, and the tengu continued in his stead. "Here is the first settlement, see? They're fine, although suffering from similar problems. However," here, the tengu pointed at a jagged line on the map, just before a few tunnels branched off going in. "This here used to be called the second checkpoint. There's no communication with the settlements beyond it, and nothing comes back but monsters and undead. We sent in a few good soldiers a week and a half ago. You see, because an expedition this far might take a few days, yes? But they haven't returned. We sent a few more to look for them four days ago. We haven't heard from them, either."

Grazzom set his beer down on the table. "Do you see where we're going with this?"

[Nihilarian]

Abe thinks for a long while, occasionally drinking. Finally, "You're looking to send us?" Abe guesses. "We've recently proven ourselves against undead. Soldiers are useful for fighting in large groups, but as a whole they know less about fighting in small groups than we do, who've done nothing else. So you're going to send a small group to slip in and get some information, maybe fix some problems, and that's us?"