Madness, Blood and Thunder in Ravens Bluff Thread 2

[rypt]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

"I was told by one Aya Llewellyn that your partner was to act as an intermediary of sorts for the group of private citizens who wished to see Larshon..." shifting uncomfortably, he looks away as he finishes, "removed from her position. Can you tell me when Misti was first contacted about the job?"

[TheFallenOne]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

"They didn't approach us... Over time we heard different tales of the going-ons on the prison ships. Once the picture was clear enough Misti contacted the families of the victims and inquired discreetly how they'd feel about certain changes and the manner in which they are achieved."

The Halls of Mystery

Wylam raises two fingers to shush Mirielle, then finishes making notes in the margins of a small book bound in white leather. "Yes. What is the matter?"

Aya

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The wood is rather sparse here, that's why you were able to see the weasels at that distance in the first place. You'd lose cover for part of that move.

[Sallera]

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In that case, Aya will put her bow back in her glove first, adopt a non-threatening posture, and try to keep a little more distance - 100ft or so.

[rypt]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

"Really? In that case, can you recall when Misti first began making these inquiries?"

[TheFallenOne]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop

Vanet furrows her brow for a moment. "A while back, easily over a month, and we'd been looking into the matter well before that. It's a rather delicate matter, nothing you can openly advertise if you know what I mean. It was quite opportune when your friends were already looking into that monk on their own volition."

Southern Forest Territory

Rounding the tree from a distance Aya doesn't catch sight of the remaining weasel again; it either luckily bolted in the right direction to not be seen or has hiding skills to match its hunter.

[rypt]

Misti Marva's Moonlight Pawnshop (21st of Marpenoth)

Cael purses his lips and widens his eyes in an expression that very nearly resembles amusement. "Yes," he nods, "I suppose it was."

Once his gloves are returned, he thanks Vanet for her time and makes his way to Oldover House in the hope of having another chat with Nalia Terlon.

Mirielle's Apartment (22nd of Marpenoth)

Cael glances from Mirielle to the oilskin bag and back again. "So," he says as he exhales a deep and barely steady breath. "How exactly does this work?"

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle's Apartment, Morning of the 22nd of Marpenoth

"Ah," Mirielle hesitates, "it doesn't. At least not yet. I thought after a night of rest I'd be ready, but I had nightmares again. I think the spells Larshon was throwing at me had some lingering affects. This won't be terribly pleasant, and I don't know that I can handle it yet. And I'd rather have all of my questions ready so I don't have to do it twice. I'm still waiting on some."

She sighs wearily and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Sorry, I'm rambling. When we do it, I'll cast a spell, eat a small portion of the brain, and you'll ask me questions. The spell will let me obtain some of Black Sorrow's memories and I'll try to answer them. Then you'll make sure I don't pass out from the spell's backlash and help me recover.

"For now, though, I had something else to discuss. Are you familiar with a spell called zone of truth?"

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Mirielle sits down next to Wylam and bites her lip before asking her question. "Can evil magic leave lingering effects on its victims? I mean, in general, not inherent to the particular spells effects. I've never heard of it, but it's not an area of study I'm particularly schooled in."

[Sallera]

Southern Forest Territory

This was going to be delicate work. She was out of convenient blessings, and despite their susceptibility to direct hits, these weasels were still powerful creatures. On the other hand... well, she wasn't entirely unknown to the forest's denizens, and there was no blood on her hands yet. Suppressing her intent to harm, Aya slowly and evenly approaches the tree and the fallen weasel, keeping a careful watch on her surroundings.

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Spot: (1d20+15)[32]
Listen: (1d20+15)[35]
Wild empathy, if/when appropriate: (1d20+5)[8]

[TheFallenOne]

Southern Forest Territory

Once she is within thirty feet of the fallen weasel Aya finally notices the second one, crouching low in a bush and well-hidden from less keen eyes.

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

"No, not really", Wylam replies in a calm voice. "Lasting effects are one of the hallmarks of such magics, but of course these are particular to the spells in question. There can naturally be both physical and mental trauma from repeated or particularly gruesome exposure, but that's hardly restricted to, as you say, evil magic. A fireball can do much the same, as can entirely mundane means. I would say though this is more likely with vile spells, as often enough suffering isn't a side-effect, but very much a goal in and on itself."

[Sallera]

Southern Forest Territory

Locking eyes with the crouching weasel, Aya backs off slowly, making a placating gesture... but her fingers brush together purposefully, a soft snap activating the magic in her glove.

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Move back, activate True Strike.

[TheFallenOne]

Southern Forest Territory

Aya's look betrays that the weasel has been spotted and it bolts, disappearing into the trees and bushes behind.

[Sallera]

Southern Forest Territory

Well, that presented an interesting choice. Go after the second and hope nothing started eating the first, or be satisfied with one and leave it at that...

Trusting that her earlier shot had been sufficient to knock the weasel senseless for a few hours, and hoping nothing would interfere with a creature of that size without it actually being dead, Aya tries to blend into the trees again, following the trail of the second weasel's scent.

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*sigh* I need to learn to actually use that +10 Sense Motive. Does that happen before or after True Strike activation? (I'd assume before if the look set it to running, but it's not quite clear.)

Following the trail, Hide: (1d20+10)[20], MS: (1d20+10)[30]

[Frog Dragon]

Riverview Road

Bending his knees to mitigate the thump from his landing, Jorran circles the house from the back, still trying to stay hidden. He had not heard whoever had surprised him leave, so he supposed that whoever it was, was still around.

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Not sure if I need new rolls.

[Jeff the Green]

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Mirielle makes a sound halfway between a groan and sigh. "I thought that was the case," she says. "I hoped otherwise, though."

[rypt]

Mirielle's Apartment, Morning of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Cael recoils at Mirielle's explanation. It was awful enough to see her remove the brain; he can hardly comprehend the thought of her eating it.

"Uh, yes-- yes, I am," he answers meekly, seeming somewhat bewildered. Mirielle is already moving on to a second spell, but Cael's thoughts linger on the first, and she can see the gears turning behind his unfocused eyes.

[TheFallenOne]

Riverview Road

Looking around the edge of the house Jorran sees three members of the city watch, and they spot him as well. "Stop right there!" the one holding their lantern calls out.

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Wylam offers no further commentary and turns back to his notes.

Southern Forest Territory

Aya follows the trail for a couple hundred feet; it seems the weasel was moving hastily at first, but slowed down after a while, stopped in fact as Aya picks up a scent that must be very close. It also seems to have taken offense at being followed, or perhaps at the fate of its jittery companion. Either way, when it drops out of the canopy of a tree at the passing Aya the intention clearly isn't a friendly hug judging by its bared teeth.

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failed spot, but surprise surprise round negated by Scent. It won initiative.

Partial Charge - (1d20+8)[13] (1d6+3)[9]
Jump check to reduce falling damage (1d20+2)[14]
Falling damage (1d6)[6]

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle's Apartment, Morning of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Mirielle notices Alhruar's bewilderment and so continues concisely and gently. "What I'd like to discuss is potentially dangerous if I trust the wrong person," she explains. "Would you be comfortable answering a few questions in a Zone of Truth? Afterward I'll explain what's going on, make you an offer, and then answer any questions of yours that I can."

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

"Oh," Mirielle interrupts apologetically, "I had another question, hopefully a quick one. After befriending Aya I'm spending more time out of doors than I'm used to and missing my bath. Have you ever heard of a modification of the standard orison to produce warm water? I could probably figure it out on my own, but there's no sense repeating research if I don't have to."

[Sallera]

Southern Forest Territory

Spitting a curse as the weasel lands on top of her and sinks its teeth into her swiftly upraised arm, Aya reaches back to her quiver and pulls out a sturdy oaken staff, cracking it against the weasel's back. The head would have been better, but that was also more likely to cause unsightly bleeding, not to mention damage the most impressive features.

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Curse you, suddenly relevant Vulnerable flaw!

So much for keeping this pelt intact... or so I thought until I remembered I just bought a pair of quarterstaves.

Draw quarterstaff, hope weasel isn't too thirsty.
Attack: (1d20+8)[28] (-1 if we don't have levelup bonuses yet)
Damage: (1d6+2)[3]

[rypt]

Mirielle's Apartment, Morning of the 22nd of Marpenoth

With one eyebrow cocked, Cael nods slowly, skeptically even, but no more so than would be expected of anyone presented with such a proposition. There are certainly things he would be reluctant to be completely honest about, but he cannot imagine that Mirielle's questions would have anything to do with his past, or that of his sister. His eyes shift in thought as he considers this, and a moment later he nods again, faster and more assuredly. "Alright. Let's do it."

[Frog Dragon]

Riverview Road
So it is the watch. How did they know to come here? He had no intention of being caught now. Most likely, they couldn't identify him, with his new injuries and disguise, in this darkness. But if he was taken into questioning, they'd figure out who he was, and they already had his earlier confrontation with Black Sorrow on record. And he had stayed there, which they might have known already. He knew he couldn't lie his way out of this.

Jorran turns back around the corner and breaks into a run, looking for another corner to turn, trying to stay away from anyone else in the streets at this time.

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If there are no complications in losing the guards, Jorran is going to circle about for a bit before returning to his house. Don't want to go directly there after attempting a robbery. That would then conclude the day.

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle's Apartment, Morning of the 22nd of Marpenoth

"Alright. Please try not to resist this." Mirielle raises her holy symbol and speaks a slow incantation. A gentle compulsion radiates from her, and then she casts another spell. "I am now compelled to speak only the truth, she says. "Are you?"

At Alhruar's confirmation, Mirielle begins her questioning.

"Are you familiar with an elf called Cybrarvain?"

"Have you ever worked for, or hired, an assassin?"

"Have you ever worked as an information broker?"

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Zone of truth, deliberately failing save. Guidance of the avatar boosting Sense Motive, taking 10 for 33. Questions asked one at a time, but all in this one post to save time.

[rypt]

Mirielle's Apartment, Morning of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Cael can feel Mirielle's spell brush against his mind. His instincts tell him to shield himself from such magic, but at her request, he allows it to take hold in his subconscious.

"I am," he nods.

"No."

"No."

"No."

He answers each question immediately, and in a steady tone, all the while holding Mirielle's gaze with his own.

[Jeff the Green]

Mirielle's Apartment, Morning of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Mirielle lets out a sigh of relief and slumps down into a chair. "Alright. You've proven yourself to be a good fighter and loyal, so I want to offer you a job. I don't think it will be easy, and it may put you in some danger, so you should think carefully before you decide one way or the other.

"I am not, by nature or training, an adventurer. I grew up fairly well off, since I was adopted by a childless couple and my adopted father was a merchant in Chondath. Later on I was an archivist at the Kelemvor's library in Chondath, and did everything I could to avoid assignments that would involve leaving the stacks. It wasn't until last winter that I left to hunt Cybrarvain.

"A little while after I turned twenty-one, Randal, the son of another merchant, started courting me, and soon we were engaged." Mirielle laughs sadly. "I think our fathers were almost as excited about the opportunity to fleece their competitors as we were about being married.

"Anyway, my parents held an engagement party at our home, and our friends and family were all there. I was about to come downstairs to join the party when I heard screaming. I rushed to the staircase, but it was blocked by a curtain of flames. The entire ground floor had burst into flame, as near as I could tell. I got out the only way I could, by jumping out the second-story window. Everyone else, my parents, my fiancé, his family, our friends, all perished.

"After that, I entered the cloister. I found some peace there, and I loved my work. Last winter, though, the library burnt down. You might have heard of it. I managed to get out, and save some of my fellows and important documents, but before I did I spotted a pattern of scorch marks that could only have been made by alchemist's fire.

"I had some favors owed me, and I was able to call them in to find a name: Cybrarvain. He's an assassin who's well known in some circles for burning his victims alive. I tracked him to Ylraphon, and then here. Since then I've come to suspect that he also killed my family. I'm also pretty sure he killed an old friend who lived here.

"I'm still tracking him, and I have some leads. But when it comes to taking him down, I'll need help. Aya and Jorran have already agreed to. Theoretically, I have two other people who have agreed to help, but I'm not going to call on them unless I have to. Alaister was going to as well, but I've learned that his relationship with Cybrarvain was complicated.

"I can't promise much in compensation. I'm still in contact with some of my parents' friends and can get a hold of art or luxuries or magic items for a discount. Aya and Jorran took payment that way. I don't know why you're in the Bluff, but I can also help you with a project.

"I know that you objected to how I handled Larshon. I'm not sure I did the right thing myself. But I try to do what's right, and I do not betray trust. Please help me."

With red eyes, Mirielle slumps even further and waits for Alhruar's response.

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</crappy novel>

[TheFallenOne]

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

"I think there is such a spell, but rarely used for its higher expenditure of magic. Warm water is a useful commodity though; I don't know about clerics, but most mages I know use two separate cantrips, one to create the water, one to heat it. I would suggest the same thing to you, a weak heating spell has several useful applications whereas creating warm water is rather limited in scope."

Southern Forest Territory

The striking angle is awkward with the weasel latched onto her arm, but still Aya manages a solid strike, bringing the neck of the weasel into the path of the attack by a short twist of her arm. In pain the animal clenches her harder, ripping the wound wide.

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Con - (1d4)[4]

Riverview Road

Jorran's feet seem to have been swift enough and he slips away into the night.

[Sallera]

Southern Forest Territory

Groaning in pain as the blood drains swiftly from her wound, Aya spins the staff into another strike, rebounding and thudding into the weasel's other side.

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"Killed by oversized weasel" would be the most amusing fate. I'm guessing this one has a couple extra HD.

Full attack: (1d20+8)[13] (-1 if we don't have levelup bonuses yet)
Damage: (1d6+2)[5]
Attack 2: (1d20+3)[4] (doesn't happen if we don't have levelup bonuses yet)
Damage: (1d6+2)[5]

[TheFallenOne]

Southern Forest Territory

Another blow connects and the weasel slumps, its grip on Aya loosening and falling belly-up on the ground. Seeing the animal's fur glistening red Aya realizes how much blood she lost from the deep wound, though the pain fades fast, perhaps too fast as her left side feels numb.

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Can Forestlord Elves go pale? I somewhat like the thought ^^

[Jeff the Green]

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

"That is true," Mirielle muses. "If you have an idea of where to start looking for a divine version, I'd appreciate it. If not, I'll leave you to your work and get to mine."

[TheFallenOne]

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

"There should be a book of spells for common amenities somewhere, season food, dry clothes, trim hair, things like that. You know you're way around a library, I'm sure you'll be able to find it."

[Jeff the Green]

Library of the Halls of Mystery, Afternoon of the 22nd of Marpenoth

Mirielle nods. "Thank you, Wylam," she says simply. She seeks out that book, and then goes to work.

[Sallera]

Southern Forest Territory

Gritting her teeth, Aya carefully removes the weasel's jaws from her arm, tearing off her sleeves and binding tight strips of cloth around the wound. I think that's about it for this shirt. Just need to get these two home before I fall over... Bending down, she places a foot on the weasel's neck until it stops breathing, then retraces her steps and does the same to the other. After taking a few minutes to rest and eat a short meal, she takes out her tools and sets to work tying the two staves together with stripped branches and woven twigs, constructing a frame sturdy enough to let her drag her prizes back to town.

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I actually thought about that earlier, after the nightmare. I figure they can go pale or blush, it's just less noticeable than it would be on someone with more normal skin.