War of the Final Whisper [IC]

[TiaC]

Velion will begin his report, cursing Isegar's actions as he does. He begins by reporting on the destruction of the Chateau. As he is the only Andoran survivor, they will be lacking information on the internal conflict. He will say that this appears to have been internal Chellish strife. The apparent leader of the attacking force was a vampiric Chellish mage known as Avanil Sifal and his primary target appeared to be the Queen. Therefore, he judges it likely that much of the recent Chellish activity has been attempts to weed out traitors internally. With this in mind, he recommends that any action taken against Chelliax be covert or false-flag to better take advantage of their factionalism.

He then begins his report on his last mission. He obfuscates little here. He will leave Caedor's name out of it. Given that we were asked about Avanil, he assumes a connection. Given the strong Daemonic influence in that town, Velion will say he suspects conflict within the hells as the source of this conflict. He will leave out what we were able to deduce about the mechanics of their plots but will assume that Isegar is receiving information from the Deacon.

Given that this appears to be of immediate import for Andoran as a whole, he will encode the messages and send copies to the Senate and Andoran High Command.

[Thrair]

Elusra shakes her head in confusion. "These southern lands are filled to the brim with crazed idiots. In any event, you should speak to your father. He's been handling the couriers and probably knows more than you about our politics. No offense, Warchief, but you were raised apart. You'll need his help. Normally those duels are to the death, to make sure the power change is final. but there is precedent for preserving useful skills, at least in the short term."

Looking around the camp, the camp has been fortified still further, with even more construction into the cavern networks. Her father is near one such location. His outfit is in crisp condition, but has had rank insignia removed. From the way he's nodded to, he's still accorded a modicum of his former respect. He nods deeply, if somewhat uncertainly, as he approaches.
"Warchief.... You have been needed. There have been calls for a summit. We had the good fortune of coming down first by a fair margin, and have one of the more defensible positions. A lot of the 'clans' out on our borders are little more than fractured bands. They'll posture, but they need protection more than independence. I was hoping to absorb some of them into our ranks, before you reappeared. However, a few of the clans are still in sizable condition. So there might be some that will want to test your control. If nothing else, there's talk about forming an alliance and taking a stand."

Elusra steps up, nodding in agreement. From both Elusra and her father's posture, they are considering themselves equals in rank. Elusra, at the least, still respects him.
"Not much of a surprise. The war's been going badly for us. We've been pushed down in a slow rout. That said, this crusade of the stunted has 'em stretched thin. If we could buy time to reorganize into a few larger groups, we might be able to beat 'em off our backs. Get some breathing room."


Caedor, meanwhile, watches intently, with a hint of a grin on his face.


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"Whatever their plans, they're certainly taking personal notice of you. My spies have been hearing an increasing number of rumours and reports of your activities. And some bounties have been posted in the underground. Most of them simply for information and tracking. Not many are fool enough to attempt attacking you. That said, I would urge you caution when traveling or resting, especially alone."

"Not the mention the personal interest this 'Deacon' has in Sekla. The term sounds familiar, but I cannot place it. There appears to be more than one, in any event. Killing them would be a good start."

At this point, the voice of the Servant from earlier comes from the door. "My Lady. Sir. Madam. Apologies if I am interrupting, but the Chelish Embassy respectfully insists on entertaining Madam Farsighted for this evening."

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


Velion has barely had time to send the reports out via courier, when a commotion arises at the front of the embassy. Heavy footsteps approach and High General Isegar enters the room.
"Major Thornson," he drawls in a very icy tone. "You have been rather busy... It. Would. Seem. I had hoped to speak with you, but you had already left the city when I arrived. Most untimely. In such a time of war, my appointed aides cannot be straying so far from my purview... Have you anything to report from this recent.... field trip?"

The man's earlier lax tone and attitude is gone. It it's place is cold demeanor with an undisguised air of malice.

[TiaC]

Velion is perfectly respectful in his response. "I do apologize, sir, I'm still not used to my new position as of yet. I was also unaware that it is quite a time of war yet. So, when I was given the opportunity to travel Cheliax unmolested, I decided to see what I could learn. They have lost the city to daemonic activity. The result expected from working with fiends. Their army saw to it that there were no survivors. We disrupted that effort a bit and ensured that rumor and unrest will spread. Their vile nation begins to collapse under the weight of its evil deeds. My report has a full accounting of both that and the Chateau incident. What would you have me do next? There are a few loose ends I could follow up on in town." He hands his reports off to Isegar's adjutant and waits for a response.

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Oh, as we never let on that we had Vectus, my report shows our prisoner as having died in the Chateau fight.

[Thrair]

Isegar expression is nearly predatory, and the nearby officers and soldiers shift uneasily.
"Damnable fool. We never ceased being at war. A cease-fire is not a declaration of peace. Especially in Infernal lexicon! Now..... I'm sure your written report is much more thorough," he says, looking towards the frightened clerk. "That report, if you would."

Snatching the report with hardly a second glance at the poor man, Isegar tears the seal and beings reading it, eyes frequently darting up to Velion in anger.
"I see. Leaving aside the utter lack of respect for a superior officer, it is clear you have been working with unreliable 'allies'. One of these companions you mention, the slave wizard, has been discovered by our intelligence services to be a member of the Chelish Intelligence! Need I remind you that, as we are still at war, these reports could be construed to be a result of manipulation and misinformation? Perhaps even treasonous? While I lack proof of such intentions, and cannot legally arrest you given the results.... I can and will see to it that the association with the Chelish agent and the mongrel Chieftain ends. You are to report to the garrison directly northeast of the city and await further commands in preparation for an impending invasion. Am I clear?"



Before Velion even has time to respond, there is a commotion in the front of the building that rapidly approaches. Velion recognizes the man in the front as Legate Falero, with whom he has earlier had discussion regarding Isegar. His eyes glance to Velion with a sense of relief, then lock onto Isegar with a look of subdued fury.
"Excuse me, General. I must interrupt. I must speak with Major Thornsen, and in private. My aide has further instructions directly from the Senate. They require you to provide a debriefing of recent activities."

Isegar sneers viciously, and the surrounding Officers warily give the two men a wide berth, with some muted discussion by those whom can whisper out of earshot. What is happening is something most of the men would rather not be witnesses to.
"The senate has been given my reports, Markus. If they require more, my aides can-,", Isegar says before Jalero cuts him off abruptly.

"I apologize, High General. I was unclear. It was not a request. The Senate demands you personally provide the report, at the Capitol. As I said, my aide can provide you with the specifics of your orders. We will depart within the hour." Isegar glares murderously at the Legate, but Velion is barely able to see his eyes flash with recognition at the something in the back corner of the room. Bowing contemptuously, and casting a glare towards Velion, Isegar follows the Legate's aide out of the office.


Turning to Velion, Falero gestures to a side office and stations some of his personal guard at the door. As the two men enter, Falero flops wearily into a chair, though his eyes remain keenly focused.
"You are a lightning rod, Major. But I warn you, we may be attracting too potent a strike. My ear is low enough to the ground to know you have associates in a variety of places. We may need their aid, shortly. Can you tell me what you have learned of Isegar, of late? More than whatever you revealed in the reports. I need the truth. This matter is about to erupt, as you might now suspect."

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To quote Reltzik: Fire in the Hole.


PS, you were able to get a copy of the reports out before Isegar arrived. He does have a copy, however.

[Reltzik]

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What time of day is it? Is evening hours away, or is it right now?

"Then I suppose I shall be entertained," Alstroemeria says. This wasn't something Samiya really had a say in. Nor was it something Alstroemeria did. "Was a particular time for this entertainment named? If not, please extend a return message that I shall be there in roughly an hour. Unless," this to Samiya, "You think we will be here longer?"

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If it's not evening yet, and won't be in the next hour, Alstroemeria will name a later time.

Assuming neither of them disputes that schedule, Alstroemeria waits for the servant to be gone before continuing.

"These bounties are quite the gift, are they not? Shadowy organizations such as this one rarely offer opportunities to feed them misinformation directly. To be paid for doing so is quite the privilege, and it would be ungracious of us not to accept with enthusiasm. I would suggest a wide variety of narratives from many sources; enough so that if true information comes to them through avenues beyond our control, it will be lost in a jungle of false tales. And it may offer a mechanism for baiting an ambush... for advertising the bait, at least... to kill this Deacon."

Alstroemeria pauses slightly, then glances at Vectus. Not to address him, but because he indirectly represents the next topic of discussion. "There is still the matter of preventing a war. And the matter of Andoren's military currently being in the hands of a man eager to initiate one."

[Zerkai]

"Indeed, I'll have to defer to my father on this, I don't have the experience he does because of my time apart. Also... despite my disposition, I certainly didn't try and spare my father or go easy on him during the duel. I struck him down as hard as I could, but he just would not expire... a trait we share as I've recently discovered, we don't die all that easily. You can ask Veras about that." She couldn't help but smile a bit as she walked towards their destination.

Upon seeing her father she nodded to him in respect. "Apologies for my abscence, the territory around us is becoming crazier by the day, the Andorans and Chelliax will be the death of everyone, including themselves. But we have other problems now... An alliance between the clans would be very helpful, there aren't as any of us as there used to be. At the very least we need to meet and decide a plan of action, I'll need some information about the larger clans that remain. Hopefully I won't have to fight anymore duels today, but I can if need be."

[TiaC]

Still shaken, Velion responds: "Since you aided me, I will trust you to a point. I have reason to suspect him, for I saw him converse peacefully with a Chellish war-golem at the site of a border incident precipitated by a golem attack. However, I also learned that at the time, the Chellish had lost control of the golems. The artifact granting control over them was in the possession of Avanil Sifal, the vampiric ambassador from Absalom. He was found to be connected to recent activity from Daemonic cults. This makes me think that his warmongering is more than an attempt to gain power and glory from the war. It seems increasingly likely that he serves Szuriel. Now, I must follow my orders. However, could you see to it that Lady Samiya learns of what has transpired here? She is an old friend of my family and I would not wish to offend her."

If that is all, he will then leave for the garrison

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There are a number of ways that Velion is not good at this. He's used to leading a small force on unorthodox missions far from other Andorans. So, he's bad at devising his own objectives, bad at restrictive rules of engagements and bad at dealing with milatary politics. This will be fun.

Oh, and he does know that this is likely to be a trap, he just doesn't care. He's just that cocky anyways and knows he has improved greatly in the past month so they are likely to underestimate him.

[Thrair]

Samiya shakes her head. "No. I'll need time to process this new information. And I've no intention of angering your house by keeping you from your duties. She makes a minor gesture with her hand, towards the door. "Thank you, Joffrey. That will be all." With another slashing gesture at the door, she begins writing a series of letters.

Vectus nods in agreement, though his expression has soured, somewhat. "Yes. In the meantime, I will assemble a report for Major Thornsen. My knowledge of the politics of my country is somewhat dated, but still likely to prove useful. I will also include a list of recommended targets for assassination." He says this bluntly, and does not back down from Samiya's harsh look.

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Yah, it's evening.

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

[Dad's name here] shifts somewhat uneasily. "I'll go prepare that report, Warchief." He bows deferentially, then leaves. Though his eyes linger on Sekla with an odd look; Somewhat wary, somewhat relieved.

Elusra follows him as he goes, before returning her attention to her new Warchief. "He isn't comfortable with this. And he isn't sure how to treat you. Respectfully, Warchief, you weren't a typical Bloodthirst to begin with. Even less so, now. He doesn't know you, anymore. You might consider fixing that." She nods her head in an apologetic gesture of respect, then gestures towards the camp. "Right now, you'll want to have an inspection. Get your presence out there. Power and authority won't do you anything if you don't get facetime with the clan."

In the direction she's gesturing, Sekla can see a campfire with a number of Hobgoblins that are apparently on downtime. They are speaking amongst themselves and some are singing songs.

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Made some edits to fix odd phrasing.

Also, I imagine hobkitty society is somewhat loose and casual at first glance, as long as respect is given where appropriate. But once things get serious, everyone quickly falls back to discipline. Much like a military (where 90% of the time, soldiers have little to do but routine tasks and bull**** amongst themselves).

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Falero's expression turns grim. "That is dire news. I will send word ahead to prepare for the worst. But I have few channels I can trust." His sits lost in thought for a moment, but starts when Velion turns to leave. "Major, wait. Isegar currently has direct command of this city, and so the Senate has given me authority to appoint an officer to take command of the city's forces in his place," he says, his face breaking out into a wry grin. "As fate would have it, Isegar has sent the bulk of his senior officers out to field positions. You are, I think, the most senior officer left. While this is, of course, tragically unfortunate for us, chain of command is rather obvious. Consider your prior orders rescinded. You are to take command of the city on the authority of the Senate. Congratulations, Major Thornsen!"

He shakes hands with a grim chuckle, but his expression quickly hardens. "Use the time, well. I do not know how long we have. Consolidate the city's forces. Identify what soldiers and agents you can and cannot trust. And be prepared for a counterstroke. Good luck."

He leaves the room and heads towards the embassy lobby.

[Reltzik]

Alstroemeria mirrored Samiya's sharp look at Vectus, and then grew very quiet for about fifteen seconds.

She was thinking.

She should leave it at this, she knew. It accomplished the immediate goal of dealing with Lerontas, and in a way did so very neatly: by plunging Andoran into civil war. This would remove the deadly threat of invasion pointed at Cheliax's weakened throat. It would offer an opportunity for Cheliax to lick its wounds and wax powerful once more, even while Andoran tore itself to shreds and became ripe for invasion itself. The various factions whose attention she had unfortunately garnered in the Chelish court would be pleased. And so to would her own House. Yes, House Leroung supported peace, but that was not out of any sentimental attachment to the ideal. It was a wholly pragmatic reading of the balance of power, of the high risks and low gains to be had from warfare. Alstroemeria was privately proud of that. Most Chelish houses were not capable of that pragmatic rationalism... and she'd personally helped hone the minds that currently led House Leroung, the minds that WERE capable of it. But that same pragmatism would turn on Andoran with the same utter lack of sentimentalism once the equation of risk versus reward shifted. If anything, Leroung would gain considerable prestige for the move. They'd advocated for seeking greater advantage before prosecuting a war, but not for avoiding war altogether. Here, they could say, is how it is done. Stack the deck. Don't gamble on the battlefield. Achieve victory before the war even begins. Leroung's holdings in Andoran, provisioned from without, could be defended in a civil war, quite easily. Leroung could even advance in Andoran through a civil war. It had done so before, during Cheliax's civil war. It could do so again. Such civil chaos would also allow Abaddon's religion to expand, by creating demand for the services of the Hellknights and providing them a wedge back into Andoran. And the threat of Absalom invasion? Faced to the west with a Cheliax trying to mobilize its navy (and which was more geographically remote, anyway), and an Andoran which was exposed, Absalom would invade Andoran and not Cheliax. Even if it attempted both, the initial forays into Andoran would meet greater success than in Cheliax, and so that is where more resources would be committed. Andoran could be turned into a buffer state, shielding Cheliax from Absalom. By almost any measure of her duty, this was what she should forment in Andoran. Or rather, since she had already formented it, sit back and let it occur.

All of this passed through her mind... was reviewed, rather, since she had already thought through the pieces of it before... in the course of two seconds. In the back of her mind a thought stirred, that this war would serve the daemonic forces. But it was a slow and weak thought, relatively speaking, next to the one at work formenting the rebellion within her own mind.

Thought? No, it wasn't a thought. It was sheer gibbering terror, remembered. Dampened by a century of life between then and now, but never forgotten. Alstroemeria struggled to master it, or at least channel it properly. Rationalism! Reason! Logic! Pragmatism! For the love of every god, do not show that you are ruled by empathy or compassion where the masters of House Leroung, or of Cheliax at large can see it! The emotions are allowed but not their guidance! But her adolescent years had been dominated by horrific experiences that had left their scars, scars which had never truly healed and which blazed hot and red now.

Mastering that, forcing her emotions down, formulating the problem in precise clinical terms and being able to see it dispassionately, that was the lion's share of the task. It took another ten seconds. Solving it took one. Finding ways to justify it, both to her superiors and to the people in this room, took the remaining two.

Lady Samiya obviously meant this meeting to be ended. Alstroemeria had other ideas.

"We have been careful, have we not, milady?" Alstroemeria addressed Samiya, and yet her focus remained on Vectus. This was for him and she did not pretend otherwise. "To avoid discussion of Cheliax's... model of society. No favorable or unfavorable comparisons, nothing that would draw me into unwise denunciations or you into criticism of a neighboring giant too large to criticize. I have surmised that you do not approve, to put it mildly. You have, perhaps, surmised that I do... despite my own lowly status in that social order. But I do not think you understand why.

"I think the time has come for me to state it plainly and niceties be damned. I believe in the Chelish institution of slavery. I believe in Chelish serfdom, which is little more than slavery by another name. I believe in the restrictions upon the peasantry, the laws restricting mobility and egress, in the iron fist and even the diabolic faith. I believe these things are a positive good for Cheliax. But I am not so poorly-read as to subscribe to the religious doctrine of the faith that these are the ideal for all the world. My scholarship does not admit to such a simplistic conclusion.

"No. When I say they are good for Cheliax, I mean that they are good for Cheliax specifically. A freed slave in Ardellon, if such a thing as an Ardellon slave existed to be freed, may be gainfully employed as a sailor. In Andoran, if an Andoran slave existed to be freed, she might rise even to the position of Senator. These are positive goods for Ardellon and Andoran. They are not so for Cheliax. In Cheliax, factors such as poor opportunities for employment, little education, and general distrust mean that freed slaves by and large become brigands and raiders who prey upon the weak and helpless. The same, for free serfs. The same, for peasants who violate the restrictions.

"So in the abstract, I too would condemn slavery, and serfdom, and a government that exists, proudly, to keep its people down. But Cheliax is not an abstraction. It is a reality. And the reality of Cheliax is that all of these things exist to prevent something even worse.

"I lived through the Chelish civil war. Half of it... the worst half of it, before the sides of the conflict became clearly delineated... I spent as a refugee. I was at a young and delicate age, and I will leave you to imagine the sort of horrors that I experienced, the manner of things I resorted to in order to survive. I sold myself into slavery, not for the slave price, but because it was better than the alternative. All of those things are better than the alternative in Cheliax, because in Cheliax the alternative is civil war and civil chaos. That is why the tyranny and the devils and the restrictions and everything else is tolerated... even welcomed. Because they put an end to the war.

"The point I am meandering to is not an apology for the Chelish regime. It is a warning. There is nothing, NOTHING, worse than the complete descent into barbarism.... no, barbarians can still have decency... to the descent into ANARCHY that a full-fledged civil war brings. Neighbor slitting neighbor's throat. Kill the baron's serfs on the other side of the hill before they kill you. It is something that is outside your direct experience, General. You have not seen it, and this is something that you cannot learn from books. You might comprehend the overall picture, in an abstract. The experience of a refugee, of the sapient flotsam, multiplied by millions, almost for a certainty you do not."

By this point, Alstroemeria had abandoned all pretense of speaking to Samiya. She was focused on Vectus.

"I believe you act out of duty and patriotism. That you see two paths you can take. Along one path you do nothing, and Andoran is lost, be it to one threat or another. Along the other path, you target many key clerks for assassination, many of them innocent of wrongdoing, all of them your countrymen, some of them even to be your victims personally. A road that certainly leads to a coup, might lead to civil war, even outright ruin... but might not. You look at these two roads and, bracing yourself, you choose to save Andoran. And in steeling yourself, you adopt a great resignation that leaves you blind and stupid." This she said with a smile... one that hopefully not only robbed the accusation of its sting, but also offered hope.

"Remember the riddle of the god who offers the traveler a choice," she said to Vectus. "There's a fork in the road. The traveler is forbidden from going back the way he came, or from remaining at the fork. He must proceed. The god informs the traveler of the grisly consequences of proceeding down one path... and the very different, but just as grisly consequences of proceeding down the other. The details vary with the telling of the riddle. Regardless, the god then forces the traveler to choose which way to proceed. The answer to the riddle is that the direction a wise traveler will chose will be along neither path. He will proceed by leaving the road entirely and blazing a third path.

"General.... you don't have to do this. Larontus needs to be removed, but you need not kill your countrymen in the process. There might well be a third path."

[Zerkai]

Sekla watches Nelok leave and sighs at Elsura's words. They were true and she, a stranger to her own kind. Some days she felt more like a dwarf than a Hobgoblin, as ridiculous as it sounded, she ate Dwarven rations on her travels, used to read dwarven holy texts to better understand dwarven paladins, even her armor and choice in weapons were inspired by the dwarven Paladin that had led the assault that started her on her path years ago. "I can understand that, I don't know who I am most of the time. I can count the hobgoblins I've personally interacted with since becoming Warchief on one hand, and given my armor and the non-Bloodthirst, their new Chief is a complete stranger. Most of the Clan probably don't know what their leader looks like, let alone that they still look like a cub. And... well, I want to talk with my Father, but there's always some sort of issue, so much to do and not enough time to do it."

Having been traveling with Sekla for a few days, Veras would notice Sekla tends towards self-deprecation at times, her smaller tusks, bigger eyes and ears did give her face a younger look and she was on the short side, but she was still an adult that looked like the human equivalent of late teens, still considered an adult. Her ears perk up a bit at the sound of singing and Elsura gesturing to the campfire. Aside from her affinity for positive energy as a child and her skill with an axe, she had always enjoyed music, trying her hand at any instrument she could get her hands on, whether she got into trouble for it or not.

"Well... I, uh... could do that. Not sure about clanking over there in full plate though, will need a few minutes to change out of it... and speaking of armor, one moment." She holds up a finger to Elsura and Veras before making her way over to Caedor.

"There is one thing I would ask if you could help with. If I had some new armor crafted for myself, would you be able to enchant it? Or a Shield? My Armor has served me well, but I get the feeling I'll need even more protection in time to come." No matter the answer she received, she'd leave briefly to have her armor removed with some assistance before she'd approach the Hobgoblins around the Campfire.

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Yeah, that sounds about right. Also Sekla's father or the inspiration for him is based on a hobgoblin Fighter I made some time ago for a 3.5 game. I used him as an Avatar on the forum for a while.



Also, I can't remember if anyone else looted the Abomination's adamantium plate, Sekla probably would have taken it. I gave her minor/lesser bags of holding just for this purpose :D She still has the 50 lbs of Adamantium from before. If she can't get better Adamantium Armor and Shields than her +2 Armor and +3 Shield, she'd give it to the Bloodthirst blacksmiths so her forces will have Adamantium weapons and arrows.

[Thrair]

Vectus shakes his head wearily. "I understand, I think. At least in part. But I worry Isegar will not allow us to oust him without bloodshed. He has hedged his bets, so to speak. Confronting him directly risks civil war, while roundabout methods of opposing him give him time to enact his own schemes."

He sighs, and his gaze loses focus. "Civil war is the bloodiest of all. And vastly more personal. I am quite surprised his takeover has not resulted in more dissent than it has. Fear of Cheliax checks thoughts of rebellion, perhaps. Regardless, such a war will come of it's own, if nothing is done to prevent it. I am little more than an informant to you and your allies. I can offer suggestions, but if you have better ideas, then make them. You have dealt greater blows to this cult than I, so your opinion carries great weight."

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The aged "hobgoblin" gives Sekla a wry grin, and he gestures towards the campfire and begins walking. "Ah. So you claimed that scrap of metal with purpose in mind. I can, indeed, make something of it. But I will need to return to my house to do so. And I will rest beforehand, as doing so entails certain... risks. In the meantime, consider what you wish me to create. I will supply the magicks necessary. You may even accompany me, if you so desire. As to my fee, I desire two things. Firstly, you will find those among your clan that are capable of song and treat me to your people's history. Secondly, you will tell me of how you came to follow the path of the higher planes, and your motivations for such a commitment. These terms... are they acceptable?" He is looking keenly into Sekla's eyes, now.

Meanwhile, the pair have neared to campfire enough to make out voices and conversation. Many of the group are engaged in a ribald song of a rival clan, sparing no expense as to crude details of their heritage. A few others are in private conversations, apparently about clan movements. Some are simply filling their mouths with food. Apparently the clan has competent fishermen, as there is no small number of trout being fried by the cook. The aroma is basic, but likely quite tempting to one stuck with little more than trail rations for much of the past week.

[Reltzik]

"I think you underestimate your own potential," Alstroemeria says. "As a matter of fact, I do have a plan... but it is one that will require you to assume a significant role. And significant risk. Which is why I have to ask of you: have you retired? Or are you prepared to go to work to save Andoran? If it should be required, are you willing to give your life?"

Alstroemeria knows that she doesn't prevaricate well... even when she's being vaguely honest, as now. She thinks that Vectus likely knows that he's being manipulated into an action he might find distasteful. But hopefully, by now she has earned enough trust for him to realize that she believes the manipulation to be for his good, and for Andoran's. Enough, at least, that he'll humor her with an honest answer to her question, even knowing that it's probably a rhetorical trap.

[TiaC]

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Now, as I understand it, we are currently south of the Aspodell mountains, in a tiny city-state on the border between the two nations. Each nation has troops in Ardellon, but they tend to stick to their side of the river.
Oh, and here's a Profession:Soldier check to see if I've missed anything obvious. (1d20+20)[26]

Velion thanks Falero, gathers what he needs to prove his command and asks that the embassy provide reports on the state of Andoran assets in the city to be forwarded to him at the garrison. He then heads out to the Andoran city command. Assuming no difficulties in assuming command, he will issue a series of orders to the troops there. First, they are to come to full combat readiness somewhat quietly. Second, they are to hold back to their side of the river and avoid provoking Chelish forces. Third, they are to provide him with a full accounting of their assets and the state of the city, he will attempt to build a degree of redundancy into this order to see if their reports match. Fourth, they are to alert him of incidents in the town. Fifth, so as to calm the civic government, he will have a runner sent to Lady Samiya Jharee requesting a meeting to discuss opportunities for cooperation in defense of the city. Oh, and while the runner's there, he'll ask if his hound Hurin could be sent to join him. He then asks his junior officers if there is anything that they wish to bring to his attention.

[Thrair]

Vectus glowers inwardly. "Retire? I'll retire when I'm dead. What do you need of me? If I can do it, I owe it to a great many people to try."

[Reltzik]

"Then here is what I propose," Alstroemeria says. "My study of history suggests that this approach is viable and has a reasonable chance of success, though I lack the specific logistical and stratetegic expertise to work out the details. That will fall to you, General.

"The parameters of the strategic problem lie thus. The enemy has almost certainly achieved their mark of pestilence with these plagues. They may or have achieved a famine in some metaphorical sense with the spellscar, though I am increasingly doubting it. They likely have not achieved a mark of war. Above all, we must prevent them from achieving that mark, which means prevent an outbreak of severe war. I doubt skirmishes or lightning strikes by elite forces are enough for what they hope to achieve; if so, they would not have needed to put such work into engineering a larger conflict. Nor do I think a formal state of declared war sufficient to their ends. No, daemons are beings of suffering, and it is the suffering of war, with clashes between mass armies, which will be the basis of whatever magic they are working.

"There are three possible wars to avoid. First, a pitched conflict between Cheliax and Andoran. Second, an Andoran civil war. And third, Absolam's invasion of one or both nations. We must prevent all three, or where we cannot prevent them blunt the suffering they cause to the point of uselessness to the enemy.

"I propose to do this as follows. First, though the agents so willing to receive our misinformation, we let it be known that both nations are aware of the Absolam invasion. To that end, Lerontas has come here under a guise of agitating this city into the Andoran sphere of influence, but is in actuality here to strike a desperate defensive alliance with Chelish officials. I'd suggest naming the Fire Marshal as the other party, at least in the majority of the rumors; he's been in this city often enough to lend the tale credence. Based on intelligence that the Absolam attack will fall most sharply upon the Chelish coast -- intelligence that the enemy will dismiss as the normal mistakes and false assumptions that often arise in such work -- Lerontas has agreed to mobilize and transfer a significant force of Andorans from... let's say east of Augustana... to the Chelish coast to assist in our defense. It will appear either as if Lerontas, having achieved power in Andoran, is now betraying the cult that helped him achieve that power, or that he is deliberately conspiring to open a path for invasion to his rear. Either interpretation will aid us.

"Given the defections that the various fleets have suffered, it must be certain that at least some of the spies seeking information here are reporting to Absolam. What we feed them will invite a landing most strongly east of Augustana, as no competent admiral would wish to assault Andoran's maritime stronghold directly. This will accomplish four objectives. First, it will allow us to control where the blow will fall, thus allowing us to blunt it and take the initiative. Second, by ensuring Andoran faces attack, Lerontas will be preoccupied and unable to launch a preemptive strike against Cheliax. The sooner he faces this threat, the better, and Andoran's proximity to Absolam makes it the place where Absolam might strike soonest. Third, it will draw attention and pressure away from us here in Ardellon, allowing us a more secure base of operations and time we desparately need. And fourth, between Larontas's agitation against Cheliax, the false rumors of troop movements we will spread, and the genuine movements he will almost certainly have made in advance of a war with Cheliax, he will be made to look a fool in light of an Absolam invasion. This will make removing him without a civil war easier. It may go against your desires to let war fall upon Andoran. But if they strike at Cheliax instead, Lerontas will simply take the opportunity to attack. This preserves the peace.

"While we are spreading the rumors, you will travel to Andoran. You will move swiftly, making contact with old friends and key logistics officers. You will allow yourself to be seen in many places but then depart instantly. You will need to keep your movements unpredictable to avoid assassination.

"Your first objective will be to assemble a military force. You will requisition soldiers of quality for a secret mission, bypassing the normal paperwork through your own personal reputation and a degree of mystique. Recruit primarily from Augustana and environs east of there; this will provide confirmation that soldiers are being drawn away from there to be sent to Cheliax, and minimize the military conflict that will arise when Absolam invades. If you are concerned about your legal authority to do this, it will stem from your believing that an invasion is imminent and not having time to seek the appropriate authority from the Senate. You will of course need to see to it that this force of yours is suitably supplied, which will require you to take several key logistical officers into your confidence. I believe that Master Thornson can also place you in contact with useful allies to this end.

"Having assembled this force, your second objective will be the evacuation of the region in advance of Absolam invasion. That army must find no civilian population to put to the sword. A general massacre might achieve the objective of a mark of war.

"Your third objective will be to neutralize that invasion force. Draw it inland away from their ships, and then stall it. Let every river be flooded, every bridge washed out, every road have a tree fallen across it every hundred yards. Let sign posts point the wrong way and use magic so that unseasonable weather will prevent proper marching order. Harry them with hit and run tactics that draw them in the wrong direction, or simply cause them to fort up. Encourage them to move north towards the forests and the mountains, by offering that as the path of least resistance, rather than west or east to besiege Augustana or Almas. In short, let the Absolam land advance be the slowest in recorded history. Let them see enough of you to be tempted by the prospect of battle, but do not actually offer battle. That might achieve their mark of war. And also, do not strip the countryside or attack their supplies. That army starving might make for a mark of famine.

"Which makes for the fourth objective. Lerontas may attempt to move a relief force east. It must also be delayed, because his motives will be suspect and also because he will not know that he should not offer battle. Let the same logistical efforts you undertook to support your own force, in turn make things difficult to move his armies into the theater. Let the bridges you destroyed to block the Absolam advance, also prevent him from making contact with the enemy. And so on.

"Through all of this, you must be personally and charismatically visible. Come and go swiftly, inspiring those you lead. The contrast between your defense of the Andoran People in the face of an army many times your size, and Lerontas's incompetence in moving his own army across the countryside, will be the greatest weapon we will have in removing Lerontas from power without a civil war. You will provide an alternative to his leadership. As you say, any military is at its heart a meritocracy.

"As you stall for time, and prevent the cults from achieving marks for their horsemen, we will move against the cult proper and destroy it. This will allow us to sue for peace with Absolam proper."

[Thrair]

Spoiler: OOC Summary

Show

*Hobkitty Chieftain got to hang out with the grunts and had a rockoff. Then found out not only the name of their arch-nemesis, but also that they'd missed them by a hair back at the barn.

*The Professor browbeat a certain general into painting a bullseye on his own back.

*Velion began "synergizing organizational workflow to incentivize efficiency and loyalty".

-------

As the young Chieftain walked away from the campfire, Caedor moved to match her dazed pace. He casually cast a malicious smirk at the stunned crowd behind Sekla. "Ah. That will certainly give them pause to think. Remarkable performance. If I am not mistaken, it was the epic of High Chieftain Kusile? To be sure, she was a powerful warlord. She united the northern clans in.... hm.... 3873, I think it was...." Lost in thought for a moment, his eyes snap back into focus and he grins. "Now... I assume this Morena is one with whom you have no small connection? Your response was excessive."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sekla knows Hobkitty history slightly better, and knows it was 3858.

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

The Andoran contingent in the city, though understaffed, works furiously to respond to Velion's commands. Those working from within the embassy itself are soldiers that Velion has determined to be both capable and not under Isegar's direct sway. As the night begins to stretch on, many begin to show signs of fatigue. Velion himself is starting to feel it, when senior NCO strides in, speaking to an aide. Velion recgonizes the voice instantly, though his appearance is slightly disguised.
"Yes, yes. I see. Be sure the supply request goes through. The provisions we have on-hand will not last us long. And given any serious fighting will disrupt supplies, we need to have a larger reserve. Thank you, corporal. Dismissed."

As the aide leaves, carrying a stack of paperwork, Vectus turns his eye to Velion. "Things are chaotic, aren't they? This identity was one used by a soldier of mine for internal affairs work. The paperwork checks out, but is notably dated. A closer examination might have noted that, and a few other flaws. Still, I've little wish to press my luck, so we'll make this quick." He quickly provides Velion with a summary of the meeting with Alstroemeria and Samiya, as well as their suggestions. "Thoughts, Major?"


---------

Spoiler: OOC

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If it's okay with you, I'ma have Samiya accompany you to the Chelish Embassy, at least initially. Mostly so I have an established NPC with you. Since you don't seem to want to go to Velion right now. If not, it's easy enough to retcon things as "you were stuck at the front of the building due to bureaucrats".

[Thrair]

Spoiler: OOC Summary

Show

*Vectus openly moving in Andoran, now, at Velion and Alstroemeria's prompting.
*Velion brevet-promoted to Colonel.
*Chelish Embassy chaotic, Alstroemeria's meeting postponed
*Fire Marshal engaged at Brastlewark as of the night.
*Everyone resting
*Hobkitty familial bonding
*Hobkitty Paladin loosening up
*Poor Cedar tree, cut down before it's prime

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

The night passes uneventfully and Velion and Alstroemeria both wake to a summons request from the Lady Samiya.

Alstroemeria is awoken early and offered tea by Samiya's head butler, who also informs her of progress made with the Drow Captive.

Velion, meanwhile, is greeted as he leaves the embassy by Corporal Hedde, who is carrying a mug of what appears to be coffee and still in the process of waking up. Passing Velion with a cursory salute, he starts and double-takes, glaring at Velion's command insignia.
"What the? Oh, gods below... you have to be kidding me..."


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

The morning comes and Veras and Sekla, as Sekla suggested, both beeline for the baths in the cavern networks. The consternation on the faces of the hobgoblins is rather obvious, and several vacate the area swiftly with muttered excuses. Veras, in particular, seems to be enjoy aiding her Warchief in messing with her peer's heads.

They enter the area as Elusra exits. She appears to have already changed into her underarmor. As always, her warmaul is in tow, which Sekla now notes to be made of the same metal as the plate recovered from the abomination.

"Ah. Warchief. Your display of song last night is the talk of the clan. Made quite an impression with both the boys and the girls. Heh, that takes some effort. In any event, it's good that you're taking care of your appearance. Meetings with some other clans are coming up, need you to represent us well and looking at your best. She begins walking away, stops and calls out. "Oh, and I'm giving you some advice, Chief. You strike me as very informal and somewhat lax. That's fine enough amongst the clan if it's how you want to lead, but it won't fly at the meetings. You'll need to put on some assertive airs or they'll take it as either an insult or a sign of weakness."

[Zerkai]

Sekla was a bit flush when Elusra had passed and started talking to her, it was fun teasing the other hobgoblins in the camp, but a bit more embarrassing when you someone who knew you when you were young finds out. Though it took her a moment to realize she had mean her musical performance, Elusra wasn't there for when she teased the other members of the Clan before heading to the bathes, seeing as she had just finished washing up.

"Oh, well... you don't have to worry about me being too lax, I'm just... well, it's hard to explain. I'm still riding high on the fact that I'm back with my people again after such a long time." She did her best to try and explain herself, it really just hit her that she was, and will be, among her people for the foreseeable future. When Elusra had passed though she had gone back to walking into the baths with Veras, looking back at her.

"Do you think that was a bit much?"

[Thrair]

Spoiler: OOC Summary

Show

Lots of major plot bombs:
-Absolam invasion of coastal Andoran
-Andoran Capitol in flames
-Brastlewark cleansed, but Fire Marshal slain
-Hobkitty indoor plumbing upgraded to pipe in hot water.

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

Sekla and Veras exit the bath to see a few of the clan pretending to have legitimate reasons to be there. However, one walks up in smithing apparel and looks somewhat irritable.
"Warchief," she says, with a curt nod, "Did you actually give that alchemist permission to kick us all out of the forge, or do I get to go back in there and kick his crotchety, decrepit, old ass?

Another stands up from a bench and hands Sekla a map and some papers, giving her a deep nod. It's Malkri, the guard-captain.
"A map pointing to the clan meeting, Warchief,", he says, not noticing the dark look cast at him from the Hobgoblin he interrupted, "As well as a list of recommended escort candidates. Mostly the level-headed and experienced members. There's a few hobgoblins who've come into camp want to join the clan. Just waiting on your permission."

Veras gives Malkri a brief nod, then tilts her head towards Sekla. "Well, Warchief? Chains of command. All of this is gonna need to get dealt with. Up to you what order, of course. Man, Jenta looks pissed." Sekla does not recognize the name, but it seems to refer to the blacksmith, whose expression is a fair impression of a rabid bulette.

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

Spoiler: OOC Clarification

Show

Ok, I know Alstroemeria is heading to Katheer, and Velion is heading to the garrison to the northeast, to meet with General Levus. However, I'm not sure how you both intend to travel, and don't want to make assumptions. A proactive post from both of ya would be a big help getting your subplots moving. Feel free to fill in minor details as needed.

[Reltzik]

Alstroemeria itched to be moving on. She'd meant to seek out allies abroad for several days now, but some situation had always arisen to interfere. As it had now. Reluctantly, she held off on teleporting to return to Lady Samiya's manor.

First she would report this new development to Samiya. Then, she would ask if there were any factions in Katheer that Lady Samiya would very much appreciate NOT being invited to assist in her city's defense.

THEN she would be on her way.

[Zerkai]

Sekla was taken aback at the several hobgoblins waiting outside, flushing a bit and being rather embarrassed now with how long she took to dry and groom herself once out of the tub. Then she saw who must be Jenta' according to Veras' words and let out a sigh. "Well at least he's quick to work... No, I did not, but it is a Misunderstanding. I asked for his assistance in enchanting new armor for myself in the upcoming battle, but it appears he is making it all by himself and immediately. Let him finish... I do have something else to compensate for things. There should be left over Adamantine, and this as well."

She removes one of her bags of holding, approaching Jenta and holding the bag out to her. "Here is a lesser bag of holding... within it is a large metal plate, about fifty pounds of adamantine. I am certain we can find a use for it in the coming battles. My Father will probably have the best ideas on how to use it, be it arrows or blades or something else."

Then she turns her attention to Veras with a small smile "We can go through the list and send word for escorts while we make our way to our new potential clanmates. I can give them my permission while we wait for the escorts. Then we will venture to the meeting site and hope the humans don't blow up the world in the meantime."

[Thrair]

Jenta's expression turns to confusion as Sekla pulls out the bag, quickly turning to giddy anticipation as she opens the bag and inspects the plate. A slow smile grows on her face, stretching nearly ear to ear. Without a word, she nods cheerfully at Sekla and takes the plate over to the forge, all previous resentments apparently banished from her mind.

Behind Sekla, Veras snickers. "Hehe. Niiiiiice. Good save, Chief. She looked ready to explode. Now she's cradling that thing like a lover. Heh. Think you might have secured her loyalty, there."

Leaving the caverns (and hearing an angry curse from Caedor quickly reciprocated by Jenta), they head towards the part of camp set aside as a temporary holding area. Malkri was, perhaps, understating things. There are, in total count, 13 hobgoblins awaiting Sekla's attention. One of them appears to be in charge of the others, though he is greyed with age. His eyes pass over Veras, assess, then move on. They then lock with Sekla's, and a flash of recognition appears in his eyes. He straightens his posture despite obvious discomfort, and assumes a pose of attention as he awaits Sekla's approach.


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

Alstroemeria's report goes down about as well as can be expected with Samiya: Poorly. Masking growing anger and worry, she lays out several factions she would prefer not to involve. Chief amongst these are Xerbystes II, the Satrap of Qadira; and the Ishiven Twenty, the largest criminal syndicate in the Padishah Empire. The former, she wants to keep out of involvement largely due to his warmongering intentions and manipulation of the sects of Sarenrae for his own purposes. The latter, she stresses a strong wariness of. Their network of spies far surpasses her own, and their long-term motives are difficult to discern. They are largely governed by mundane goals of wealth and influence, but have enough of a hidden agenda to remain a dangerous unknown.

Alstroemeria's teleportation spell goes off largely without incident; though she does not appear as close as she might desire to the center of the city, the part of the market district she appears in is close enough to make it a minor delay. The teleportation draws some attention, mostly curiosity. A few seem to be eying Alstroemeria's dress and, especially, her coin purse (less of out any ill motive and more assessing possible profit margins). However, a guard strides up promptly and demands Alstroemeria accompany him to the nearest watch center for assessment, inspection of potential contraband, and entry fees. He apologetically, but firmly, reminds her that teleportation, though uncommon, can be used in an attempt to bypass said fees and smuggle goods.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I'm assuming you want to enter the main districts quickly, and the market district is one I'm going with for plot convenience as it's usually centrally located in major cities. I'm also going to give you free reign to retcon some preparation for procedure, as Alstroemeria would know most of them (or have asked). So, if you are making any attempts to hide anything, just outline the steps taken.

[Zerkai]

"Indeed, I hope the materials will be useful in the upcoming battles." Sekla was a bit curious about what was going on with Caedor and Jenta, but continued on to see the new Hobgoblins. She wondered how many of her people that were left had all converged here for the meeting. It had been years since she had even seen her own kind, and now she leads a sizable amount of what's left.

The smaller hob looked over the potential new clan members curiously, hands behind her back as she picked up on the change in posture, looking a bit impressed by how quickly someone she never met recognized her as Warchief. Though she spoke o the group as a whole, she had stopped in front of the older hobgoblin to speak. "What clans did you all come from? And what did you do there?"

Sekla felt like these were tow fairly important questions, knowing where these new hobgoblins came from when so many of the other clans had congregated here as well. Knowing what they did and their skills would also help in determining what they did.

[TiaC]

After changing horses at the rest stop and sending his letter, Velion resumes his hard ride. Not long into it, he glances at Asdoril. "Well, this has been quite the eventful day. You've been awfully silent about all of it. It looks like we're out from the threat of Isegar as commander, but it's a mixed blessing at best with him now acting openly. You're always in favor of me gaining more power, but I'm not sure if I know how to use the power I now have. Any advice would be welcome."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

This is one of Velion's traits, he's very aware of his limits and not shy about asking for help. (There is also an aspect of not trusting his own decisions outside of combat to it.)

[Reltzik]

Spoiler: OOC on Contraband

Show

She would have researched this, yes. If there's anything she's not allowed to have, she probably would have left it behind. The exception is the rod of wild magic, which she's hoping to dispose of here, as there's a sizable facility to the god of magic. I'd intended to teleport to somewhere outside the city, but this works too. Given the constraints of the teleport spell and how I chose where I was targeting, I assume the market is some historical site like Istanbul's Grand Bazaar is IRL.

"No apology is necessary, sir," Alstroemeria tells the guard. "In fact I thank you for your assistance in guiding me to the watch center. Some places like this-" she gestures to the market place "- are ancient in design and thus easy to teleport too. Others, like your administrative centers, are relocated or remodeled frequently, and are difficult to identify from afar and target for teleportation. I am in a hurry, and in guiding me there you are no doubt saving me considerable time in looking for it."

She will cooperate with the process and try to get through it as quickly as possible.

[Thrair]

The old Hobgoblin's gaze lingers on Sekla's armor and weapon, before he lowers himself into the bow of a subordinate requesting favour from a superior. "I am Nihelk Spellfang. I was the High Seer of Clan Spellfang.... before the Chieftain was slain by the Scourge of Torag and the remnants scattered. I effectively lead this band of survivors. From my clan and others. We desire to join the Bloodthirst clan."

He points in turn to each Hobgoblin. He seems to go simply in order of proximity, which Sekla notes as unusual. An organized band would likely have settled into, at the least, a loose hierarchy. That they have not implies that either they all see each other as equal in standing or, much more likely, have not been a group for long.

"Masuk Stonereaver, former alchemist of Clan Ironhand." Almost as old as Nihelk, he bows with grin that seems somewhat wild and feral. His fur is patchy and shows numerous burn scars.
"Huri Diremaul, former fletcher of Clan Spellfang." She bows sharply and crisply at the cue of Nihelk, though is lean and gaunt.
"Fitar Wolfshead, former Chiefsguard of Clan Wolfshead." The rather beefy hobgoblin bows deeply, but wearily. His eyes lack focus and he shows signs of recent injury.
"Reyda Wolfshead, former naturalist of Clan Wolfshead." She nods curtly, but warily. Her eyes betray a lack of trust. She is barefoot and adorned with numerous beads and woven pendants.
"Kurmi Ironhand, former Marksman of Clan Ironhand." A brief glance is enough to tell that she is a capable veteran. Her bow is ornately crafted, a symbol of prestige and skill. And her arms are lean and toned. Her expression, however, is dour.
"Maral the Exile. Sorcerer." He practically spits the word, which earns him a sneer in return from the middle-aged Hobgoblin. Her attire appears to be cobbled-together, and she has ritualistic brands on the back of her hands. She looks towards Sekla and bows. Though with a marked delay. There is a slight pause as Nihlek continues to glare at Maral, before he growls and continues.
"Durut Ironhand, former patrol-leader of clan Ironhand." The patrol-leader grunts in acknowledgement, then bows deeply. He seems otherwise apathetic.
"Nesda Spellfang, former seer and healer of clan Spellfang. " A younger hobgoblin, she smiles faintly at Sekla, though her eyes have a rather disturbing mania to them.
"Niset Wolfshead, healer and pikeman of clan Wolfshead." She bows deeply. Or rather she attempts to. Her arm is in a sling and she is heavily bruised. Her breath is ragged and indicative of a damaged lung.
"And these are Bekri and Elsri. Both former heirs to clan Spellfang, though unlikely to claim that heritage." His tone is respectful, and somewhat sad. Both of the young kits are grim-faced. They have a strong bearing, but show signs of fatigue and bitterness. Had their clan not been broken, they likely would have grown into leadership roles.
"Lastly... Oktar Stonefist, former guard-captain of Clan Stonefist." The hobgoblin is wearing a helmet, but his eyes are fixed on Veras through his visor. His footing is also defensive.

For her part, Veras emits a low snarl. She doesn't point her glaive directly at him, but she also does not point it entirely away. The two appear to have some bad blood. Which the elderly Hobgoblin quickly recognizes with a low groan and a rubbing of his eyes.



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


"Hm. I apologize, Master Thornsen. I have been disturbed by our recent altercations with the daemonic cults. Something about them seems intimately familiar in a way I cannot place, and it makes me uneasy. I have been trying to place the feeling. And trying to remember what is so familiar. I have a long memory. But remembering details farther back than a few decades is prohibitively difficult. I don't believe I can recall them as well as a living being of flesh and blood... but given what I am, I suppose I ought to count myself fortunate to have memories at all. I've sometimes spent days trying to meditate on my origins. But my memories of events beyond 70 years ago have faded so far as to be accessible only as vague feelings, even with intense focus."

Asdoril emits a low keen, of the sort Velion has learned to associate with melancholy. "Well... As to advice, I do suggest you take a proactive leadership role. You, to my chagrin, seem to lack personal ambition. You are far too willing to stay on the sidelines and assess matters endlessly without taking the initiative. On the battlefield, you lack this flaw. But it's pervasive elsewhere in your life. You can no longer afford to stand at the side and allow less competent minds to lead your country into ruin."

The blade makes a light hum, indicative of amusement and affection. "So, my mighty wielder. Play events to your strengths. Display the clarity of will and mind that makes you worthy of possessing me. Enter this garrison, access the most updated intelligence, and devise a plan to rebuff this traitorous assault from Absalom. Perhaps, if you still refuse to lead, you can at the least advise those that do. You are a superb tactician. Create the warplans that grind these fools into the very earth, and cast their souls to the oblivion they profess to desire! We shall make such a demonstration of your skill that your peers will have no choice but to acknowledge us as mighty among them!"

Velion is familiar enough with Asdoril to know that, if unchecked, this bombastic speech will grow to rather tedious lengths. Asdoril is, unfortunately, a romantic. Despite his claims to the contrary. And a also a bit narcissistic.



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

The guard seems to realize he's at risk of being co-opted into playing tour-guide, and unhesitatingly passes the buck to a junior member of the guard the moment they enter the processing house. She appears somewhat irritated by this, but runs Alstroemeria through the processing and local customs efficiently. Entry fee is somewhat higher for those with known magical talents, placing it at a rather excessive 10g. They also inspect her equipment for contraband items, though they find nothing worth mentioning.

As for inter-city laws and regulations, they are fairly standard for a major trade city and differ little from Alstroemeria's memory. Magical emissions are generally (though imprecisely) monitored, but tolerated where non-disruptive. Transmutation and Conjuration of the Creation subschool are, however, regulated; such casting requires a rather expensive permit and a lengthy bureaucratic process. Enchantment spells and effects are, with special emphasis, highly illegal. The ban is strictly enforced and the penalties severe; up-to-and-including capital punishment in more extreme cases. All entering the city waive the right to extradition if arrested for any economic crimes. Justice is carried out by the church of Abadar in the case of economic crimes, but otherwise handled by local judiciary.

Of note, to Alstroemeria, is the guard clarifying the extradition denial now extends to Absalom. Absalom has long been an exception to that rule, as their influence in trade grants them immense influence. That they have lost that privilege is rather telling.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

The Ring of Mind Shielding would be illegal to possess. In addition to a thorough investigation to determine possible culpability of other crimes, punishment would include a hefty fine, confiscation, and likely deportation. Clarify if it was left behind or if it was hidden. The Medallion of Thoughts would also draw attention, and likely be held by the city until Alstroemeria intended to leave, though it's possession would not be illegal and the state could be trusted to return it once Alstroemeria had concluded her business in the city.

Aside from that, what is your further business in the city? The guard is obliged to provide you directions where requested.

PS, I am remembering the flesh pouch. Not revealing if it's been spotted or not, though. Just reassuring you that I have not forgotten it.

[Zerkai]

"Sekla Bloodhtirst, Warchief of Clan Bloodthrist." Sekla looks from Oktar to Veras before letting out a small sigh. "I've run out of charges to keep my weapon from killing, don't make me have to step in between whatever you two have going on. Now is very much not the time for infighting." She also glances at Nihlek and Maral for a moment after she says that, examining the Sorcerer.

"In my time as an adventurer, two of my partners used arcane magic, though one supplemented that with martial skill, either way, I know how useful one can be, even if multiple magic users can make a battlefield... chaotic as best. I look forward to speaking with you at a later date. We need to learn what you can do before you can find your place." She said with a curious smile as she looked up at Maral, she found the idea of speaking with one of her own that used sorcerer to be an intriguing idea. Then she turned her attention to the others in the group.

"Fitar and Niset should have any injuries of theirs looked at. The Bloodthirst Clan will accept you if you wish to stay with us, though two things I am curious about... why the Bloodthirst? There are many clans in camps gathering here, so why choose us?" She asked out of simple curiosity, perhaps because they were traveling with a sorcerer? Maybe someone didn't want heirs to another clan in theirs?

"The second, is that I wish to hear of any encounters you and yours may have had with the Scourge of Torag sometime." And she made a mental note she'd need to speak with Caedor, she still owed him the story of how she became a Paladin. She'll have to check on him when she returns from the clan meeting... it's going to be a very long night.

[Reltzik]

In that case, Alstroemeria will have left the ring behind. The flesh pouch too, if Transmutation is so harshly regulated. They're in Shozin's care, which will make getting them back a headache but will also make anyone else getting them an even worse headache. Alstroemeria definitely did NOT bring Shozin along for this. The medallion she will leave behind with a bit of reluctance, on the theory that too-cooperative individuals evoke suspicion, but without much protest or argument. Instead, she will inquire (as paperwork is being filled out, receipts being written, etc) about the change of extradition policy regarding Absolam. How recent is that change and what triggered it?

She will also declare the Rod of Chaos Magic. Alstroemeria explains that it is indeed a dangerous item and why it is so (with a hypothetical of a simple detect magic spell possibly -- just as one example of the sheer randomness the rod is capable of -- establishing a permanent antimagic zone about the city), and that her first task here is to consult at one of Katheer's several Academies (player doesn't know which ones are there, but Alstroemeria would) with regards to how best to destroy it. However, if the city guard wishes to confiscate it instead, Alstroemeria says she will acquiesce to their legal right to do so, and recommend that they undertake the somewhat onerous task of overseeing its destruction while simultaneously keeping its existence and location a secret from all thieves and unscrupulous mages who might be tempted to gamble for power.

If pressed about her further business, she says simply that she wishes to consult on other matters as well with the academics and also with several religious leaders to be found hereabouts. If pressed on what those matters are, she will launch into the sort of long-winded philosophical explanation that she knows will end in them cutting her off in two minutes flat, several hours before she'd ever get to the point. She will also, as an afterthought, add that she wishes to purchase a scroll of Sending in the market. (Yes it's a high level spell, but it's also both damn useful to the wealthy and powerful while simultaneously not being the sort of thing that is strictly regulated. I figure large markets, like this one, have a good chance of having one.)

[Thrair]

Veras' eyes remain locked on Oktar, but she tilts her head towards Sekla to speak in a low voice. "It's probably because few other clans would want them. A lot of 'em are marked in some way as to make it hard to find a clan that'd take 'em. The Sorcerer, for example. Arcane casters aren't well liked. Tolerated, but not liked. Not among most of the clans."

She nods at the wounded Chiefsguard as she continues. "That one, and probably the rest of his group, failed to protect their Chief. Jerzal Wolfshead got taken out last week, from what I hear. Put up a good fight. Good tactician. But she was rather old. Rumour is that the Scourge struck her down, personally. Hard to say for sure. Might ask 'em."

She nodded at the Seer from Spellfang, next. "Spellfang clan's got some baggage. They've got a reputation for spitting on tradition in a lot of respects. I can understand why he doesn't like that Sorcerer. Whatever reason she got exiled for, the Spellfangs almost got wiped out a hundred years ago for embracing the arcane magicks a little too effectively. They were powerful, but they made too many enemies. Since then, they've been careful to not let anyone think they'd try it, again."

"And this," she said with a low snarl, "...This worthless piece of s**t... they're the biggest reason the Ironhand clan's broken up. While entrusted to hold down a flank during a big battle, he took his force and got lured into a fake rout. Was an obvious feint. Got the clan blindsided when they turned it back around and smashed through the gap. And... worse yet, they f**king ran, once the Chief's banner fell. Were it not for my duty to the Bloodthirst, I would mount this failure's head on my glaive in a heartbeat."

This is the coldest Sekla has yet seen Veras. She has a tendency towards agitation, yes. But it's often blusterous and half-hearted. This is a calm, focused fury. Her movements have a certain rigidity to them, as if she's forcing herself to remain still.

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


The younger guard explains that the transmutation fee is approximately 500g, for a 4 month permit. And the process to acquire it is approximately 2 months. However, renewing said permit is much faster, especially for long-term residents.

They also clarify that the change of policy regarding Absalom had been ordered roughly two weeks ago, when a number of citizens began disappearing on visits to the city, with inadequate response from the Council. Since then, the diplomatic situation has rapidly degraded, and both sides have revoked one-another's embassies.

Once the Rod of Chaos Magic is revealed, the watch-captain (an older man, somewhat wary of Alstroemeria) dismisses his younger peer. He notes that dealing with such an item is well outside the City Guard's expertise, and recommends that the church of Abadar be involved before bringing in outside arcanists to deal with the item. He also rather bluntly states that the Guard will have to take possession of the item for the time being, and he can refer Alstroemeria to a group that can deal with the device with reasonable terms.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Roll a Sense motive & Perception, please. At some point during your next post.

[Reltzik]

"Splendid," Alstroemeria says. "I honestly wasn't certain who I would approach, and would have had to inquire with a few scholarly correspondents of mine in hopes of references. It is certainly your lawful right to insist that it remain here, and yet as you say you lack the expertise to properly secure it. Therefore, I will remain here with it... under your own supervision, if you desire. If you would be so good as to send a runner to the church of Abadar... someone with official status who can impress upon them the great danger of this item and the urgency of attending to it... I dare say we can have this wretched thing undone considerably more swiftly than if one of my own lowly station were to present the same petition."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

This isn't "I don't trust this guy unattended with the rod", at least not yet. This is "Oh, hey, easy access to the sort of people I need to speak to anyway."

Now watch me screw up the dice roller.

Sense Motive: (1d20+1)[6]
Perception: (1d20+11)[14]