Crash & Burn IC

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"Thank you, Olyvara, I'm sure our time here will be wonderful," Ignatius says. He would normally add a benediction of hospitality in the names of Boldrei and Kol Korran over whoever was hosting him, but he's fairly sure that wouldn't go over too well here, so instead he merely gives her a warm smile.

Once she departs, the gnome turns to the rest of the group. "I'll take the cot in the left room; I don't mind the leak, and I think I'll ask Boldrei in the morning to grant me the power to fix the roof for her." He turns to Joresh and tries to make his smile convey reassurance and a withholding of judgment for now. "I would appreciate it if you would room with me, so we could have the conversation I mentioned before. Best to address that sooner rather than later."

[CandyLaser]

"I should be able to take care the leak right now. Not to slight your divinely granted gifts, Ignatius - but making and fixing things has always been a gift of my house." He turns to Olyvara. "If you'll show me to the site of the leak I'll see what I can do." And while he was working, perhaps Olyvara would know a thing or two about what was going on in the city. It would help to have a friend here. If nothing else, she'd at least know where the local Cannith enclave could be found.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh returned the guard captain's stare with an even look at the city gates. Joresh was quiet as the group made their way through the city, and was indifferent to the open stares and whispers that followed him as the commoners noticed his Mark. He noticed Autumn's show of solidarity as she moved closed to him. Considering how quiet she normally was, for her this was the equivalent of an impassioned speech. He nodded at her in acknowledgment, but said nothing.

When they finally made their way to the Silverman's Shanty, Joresh wrinkled his noise at the decor. I think they actually bring in dead fish just so it smells authentic He lowered his opinion of Esara's sense of taste as they made there way to their rooms. As the group chats with the host, he comments to the whole party <There's no need to tell her nothing about us she doesn't need to know. Top secret mission, remember?> He could have fixed the leak, Hell he could have renovated the entire inn, but said nothing. The less civilians that knew about his powers, the better.

When Ignatius spoke he commented. <Would you mind waiting for a bit? Continent to save in all of that?>

When the Hostess had left, he addressed the group, while simultaneously muting all sound leaving the room using his power to ensure they would not be overhead. Alright team, our objective is to catch the bomber before the Conspiracy can carry out the attack. We know how the attack in Wroat was carried out, and until we can get the report from Korth, we have to operate under the assumption that the Conspiracy will use the same method, because otherwise there are too many possibilities for us to effectively plan around. We are also operating under the assumption that the Conspiracy will stick to the pattern of attacking a capital every couple of weeks. Unfortunately, we don't know why they're using this particular pattern, besides trying to provoke a war between the Five Nations. You've all seen Flamekeep; this place is a powderkeg. An attack here could start the war.

We need to come up with an effective plan and we only have a few leads to pursue right know. As I've mentioned before, considering the current atmosphere of religious fervor it's quite likely that the bomber will target a spiritual event. Ignatius, do you know if the Church of the Silver Flame has any holy days, special services, or anything else of that nature over the next few weeks? Calandras, maybe you can hit the bars, and ask if there are any important events coming up?

Beren, Esara, we know that the Bomber's M.O. is to use a ring to teleport the explosives from a pocket dimension, is there anything you can do to counteract that effect? Maybe make it impossible for something to cross from one dimension to another in a limited area?

Spoiler: OOC:

Show

Unfortunately, this will probably call for some skill checks that won't be resolved until the GM gets back.

~~~~

OOC: I suggest we run the ethics talk in parallel to the strategy meeting.

After the group finished their talk, Joresh followed Ignatius to the room. He clumsily placed the chunk of iron purchased on Wroat on fly, and then looked at Ignatius. What is it that you want?

[CandyLaser]

"I might be able to provide something... I'd need at least a day of warning, preferably more. And even then the warded area would be limited, and the ward wouldn't be permanent. We'd need to know where and when the attack. I'll start prerparing today, in so we'll have options. I think, given the circumstances, it would be appropriate to ask others to chip in for the material costs needed."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

There are a couple options here. With GM approval, a custom item providing an ongoing zone of respite, anticipate teleport, Otiluke's suppressing field, or investiture of the orthon would block or delay teleportation. Scrolls of all of the above could also be created, as chould scrolls of forbiddance and hallow or unhallow.

[rypt]

Esara

Esara smiles as she looks up at the Shanty's silvered insignia. "Here we are!" She had heard of the Silverman's Shanty from a dockhand in Fairhaven, and by the looks of those entering and exiting the establishment, it is exactly the kind of place she had hoped it would be: one where two marked heirs, a shifter, a kalashtar, a gnome and a pair of Karrnathi soldiers might just be seven of the least interesting patrons present. It certainly wouldn't hurt if everyone else was either too tired or too drunk to notice their presence in the first place.

As though in anticipation of the reactions of her companions, Esara looks back over her shoulder and grins. "Don't worry. Their fish stew comes highly recommended -- and from Aundairian, no less!" For an Aundairian to praise anything from Thrane is rare enough that Esara is actually looking forward to trying the stew for herself.

Anyone can be comfortable in a first class car on the lightning rail, or in a private room reserved for agents of the Brelish crown, but Esara seems equally comfortable here, amidst the noise and the grime of a common inn. Indeed, she seems to draw energy from the lively atmosphere, and it is easy to wonder just how much time the Lyrandar scion has spent in similar establishments.

As the hostess leads them through the crowded floor, Esara spots a few tables of Three Dragon Ante. Under different circumstances, she would have loved to have sat in for a few hands herself, but she recognizes that there are more pressing matters to be dealt with.

When Joresh inquires about means of interfering with interdimensional magic, she echoes Beren's concern about limited areas of effect. "Spells that anticipate teleportation effects are generally much longer lasting than those that prevent it outright, but in either case, we're talking about a warded area of maybe ten to twenty yards at the very most. As a result, our ability to prevent an attack will likely hinge on the precision with which we are able to predict where it will take place."

"Oh, of course," she replies to Beren at the artificers request that they share the material expense.

[n0ble]

Calandras nods in acknowledgement of psion's question before depositing the money Beren requested on the table. "If that is insufficient I will give you more upon my return." With that he brusquely leaves the building. He then memorizes the location of their new lodgings before exiting the premises.

Calandras loses himself in the city. In many ways it's refreshing to be amongst the denizens of a city at night, rather than the cramped train car that had been home for the past three days. He disappears into the city streets and buildings. He might be a beggar listening to passersby at an intersection, hands cupped, arms outstretched in supplication. He might be a grizzled adventurer at a bar, listening to stories about the next grand celebration to occur in the city. Or he might be a scholar, enquiring about the religious ceremonies that happen in Flamekeep in order to complete his almanac of the city. But more often then not he's simply Calandras, the Squire, Shimmris the monster, flowing through the streets of Flamekeep. Guards occasionally stop him and ask for his papers. He happily obliges them, eager to continue his reconnaissance and time outdoors, in the city. It'd be nice. Just to give it all up and live for once. Truly live. The thought arcs through his brain down to his toes and jolts him from his reprieve, just as the bell of the Cathedral clangs. Aborghast. Thoughts of the vampire ruin his good mood.

He quickly slithers into an alleyway and checks for anyone who might be observing him. Upon judging the area to be clear, his skin ripples, becoming pockmarked and yellow, as if jaundiced. This coincides with the fat squires body receding into a gaunt, if slightly skeletal form. His hair becomes close cropped. His eyes become blue and brown. The squire uniform changes as well, becoming a ratty robe one would find on a beggar. He slumps down in the alleyway, back proped against the wall. Making his voice the barest of whispers, he produces his sending stone "Aborghast. Infiltration of Flamekeep successful. None suspect me. Progress report on Emerald Claw findings? Request for aid if needed? Major knows nothing. Praise the Blood."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Spending one inspiration point on a Gather Information Check for a total of +22: (1d20+22)[42] I'm rolling to see if theres any important events coming up in Flamekeep.
The following two checks are to make sure the alleyway Calandras is hiding in are abandoned.
Spending one inspiration point on a Spot Check for the he is in for a total of +18: (1d20+18)[20]
Spending one inspiration point on a Listen Check for the he is in for a total of +18:(1d20+18)[38]
I now have 8 inspiration points left till the next encounter.
I will be taking 10 on my disguise check as Calandras for a total of 32. If you want me to roll for it when he is in his other disguises I can do that in the OOC, as well as edit my post if anyone is coming with him to gather information or if he is being observed in the Alley.

[3SecondCultist]

Autumn, Esara, Ethan, Ignatius, Joresh

A few minutes after Olyvara arrives to take Beren and show him the leak, and once you are in the middle of your strategy talk, there is a light rap at the door.

"Excuse me, but is there an Ignatius d'Sivis staying here? I have a package for you." The man on the other side of the door is little more than a youth, fresh stubble across his features and young, dark eyes. In his hands is a sizeable looking brown canvas package, which he leaves on the threshold. He doesn't seem interested in figuring out what you're talking about - in fact, he seems driven by a desire not to know. He whispers: "Kaius wishes you all luck" before leaving.

The package contains exactly what you might expect: a similar looking title, a report dated from exactly two weeks before the Wroat attack. In fact, nearly all of the details of the report are the same: a man infiltrated and blew up a large section of Wollvern Park, beneath the Tower of the Twelve. Just like in Wroat, the man appeared to be of working class birth, and carried a strange ring on his finger. According to the reports, the man was crying before he activated the ring but when the dragonshard vest appeared on his person, he started calling for help. The detonation occurred less than ten seconds later. A tour of the city guided by a squadron of White Lions was nearby, and only two survived the attack. In fact, besides the Karrnathi letterhead, you also notice the reports have been personally signed by the great General Thauram himself.


Orlov

At your prompting, the hostess returns and shows you the radius of the leak in the room. It's not too bad, all things considered - a hole in the ceiling several inches across. However, you can see what looks like black mold around the edges of the gash, and it seems to cling to the broken boards like a sickness. Fixing the initial problem and solving the underlying issue don't seem to align here.

"Sure thing", the blonde replies as to your inquiries about the city and the Cannith Enclave. "I've never been inside myself, but the tinkers work in a building in the Middle City tier." She gives you rough directions. Looking at you again, she also points to a functional, if not at all ostentatious workbench for you to use in case you happen to be an artificer like them. Her smile is appraising, and she gives you a little wink before leaving.


Calandras

After the third Lower City bar, you have a fairly good sense of the major events on Flamekeep's mind. A great deal of the lower classes are upset that the borders are on the verge of being closed. As a result, there are many planning to leave the countries, either across Scions Sound or through the lightning rail. Indeed, House Orien stands to make a huge profit on ticket sales, as there will be lines in the station for the rest of the month.

However, that is hardly the only news you pick up during your (1d4+1)[3] hour sojourn into Flamekeep's underbelly. Apparently, the Thranes are in the middle of mustering their navy, led by the famed Red Sails, for advance strikes against Karrnath. Sercyl Ghastor, a known pirate and rogue, has been granted full annesty by the Council of Cardinals, and they plan to put his naval expertise to use by appointing him as their newest admiral to lead the attacks. Kaius is reportedly building new bone barges as a response, to carry his dread marshals across the Sound, and there are even whispers that Flamekeep is on the king's list of targets.

The last major piece of noteworthy information you overhear is of a completely different nature. To celebrate Queen Diani's thirtieth birthday, a great party is being held in Thalingard at the end of the week. Normally Thrane's monarch spends her summers at her 'nest' in Silvercliff Castle, but she has persuaded to hold her birthday celebrations in the capital so the Keeper herself may attend. The rumours say that Jaela is quite excited for the party, and she is bringing her entire retinue with her. Between the Queen's warforged bodyguards and the Keeper's own sentries, security will no doubt be extemely tight.

You arrive in the alleyway, and to your knowledge nobody else is around. Your attempt to contact the Blood of Vol is met with a minute's silence, and then you hear the familiar, bone-crunch tone of your undead superior: "Excellent work. Agents say Aanna Thorn discharged with honors. Nothing suspicious. Six month old report from House Sivis: one of their elemental experts missing. Inquire?"

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Strategy Meeting

"My studies concerned the theology and philosophy of other faiths, more so than their calendars and daily practices," Ignatius replies to Joresh's question about his knowledge of Silver Flame holy days, "but let me think it over, I might recall something." He continues telepathically, <And yes, our conversation of course takes second priority, that's why I suggested we make arrangements such that we could speak this evening. There's really no need for such snark.>

Spoiler

Show

Knowledge (Religion) regarding important Silver Flame events around this time of year: (1d20+16)[31]
And a Knowledge (History) roll as well, in case there are any important anniversaries coming up that aren't a normal part of the holy calendar: (1d20+10)[29]

When the courier arrives, Ignatius thanks him for his package and opens it once he leaves, distributing the contents to the others. He looks over the pertinent details, then once everyone has had a chance to read through everything he sets the papers to the side and assumes a contemplative pose. "I find it potentially useful," he says, "that the explosion of this vest that our mysterious adversary uses is not immediate. Having a period of several seconds between the vest's appearance and its detonation is probably intrinsic to whatever process is used to trigger it, but it also gives us another avenue to stopping the attacks. We don't need to prevent the ring's activation by negating the teleportation, necessarily...we could also do something to the vest to get it away from the innocents in the area, and a period of six to eight seconds is quite a bit of time for a well-trained group such as ours.

"I also wonder if targeting the wearer might be as good as or better than targeting the ring. I recall an old commanding officer of mind mentioning the use of a similar kind of ring for an undercover operation, which could be activated to hide a suit of armor and set of weapons within the ring and later retrieve them. Assuming this ring works the same way, if any of us could devise some means of compelling the wearer to send the vest back into the ring before it explodes, that might be easier than trying to guess whose ring is the danger before it is activated; it would likely be more reliable, too, compared to trying to take the vest out of a possibly very crowded, enclosed area into a different area that might also be full of innocents. I would normally never condone mental manipulation of any sort, but given that the ring-wearer seems to be mind-controlled already, that may be the only means to free him."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I don't remember if anyone's mentioned it yet, but this ring sounds like a ring of arming which would mean that it's not a one-shot "Surprise! Suicide vest!" setup, and if we could have someone ready to suggestion or dominate person the wielder into sending the vest back into the ring after it's triggered, that gives us a fallback option if the anti-teleportation plans don't work.

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

Talk with Joresh

Ignatius takes a seat on his cot and looks up at Joresh, trying to take on a relaxed and non-judgmental posture. "What I want is to know that you can be trusted. Please, hear me out first, and then I welcome your input." The gnome takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then speaks: "Evil isn't always grandiose and violent; it can be petty and cruel, small wrongs that sow the seeds for larger ones. I commented before on your rudeness towards the Orien heirs, back in Wroat, and since then you've exhibited impatience, condescension, and other poor personality traits. Now, don't misunderstand, I am not judging you for your personality traits, and I do not expect perfection; I myself have several personality traits of which I am not fond, and had plenty more in my youth that I worked long and hard to change. Not even the Host is perfect, in fact, as Balinor is often depicted as a crude hunter, Dol Dorn is quite violent, Dol Arrah can be callous when necessary, and so forth--and when the Host is in each of us and everything around us, how can we help but reflect their natures? Rather, the average person on the street, and everyone in this group of professionals, has their flaws and weaknesses...but only yours prompted a Flamite to pronounce you to contain a 'touch of evil'."

Holding up a hand to forestall any objections, he continues, "Now, obviously, I don't subscribe to the Flame's shortsighted black-and-white view of morality, in fact I find it quite hypocritical. But their tendency to see some evil in everyone doesn't mean there isn't some evil in everyone." His voice takes on a slightly lecturing tone it usually does when he recites basic Vassal doctrine. "Since the Schism, the Host has shrunk from fifteen to nine, but the Dark Six are no less influential and no less omnipresent in the people and places of Eberron than they once were. A warrior's talent for slaying his enemies could reflect the influence of Dol Dorn inspiring him to great feats of martial prowess...or it could reflect the Devourer granting him a knack--and a thirst--for slaughter. A merchant's keen eye for business deals could reflect the influence of Kol Korran inspiring him to enrich his employees and his community...or it could reflect the Keeper infusing him with a self-destructive lust for wealth and luxury. And a powerful psionicist who is doing good in the world but has a hint of darkness about him could reflect a man trying his best to embody Boldrei's empathy and Dol Arrah's honor, with the darkness being the remnant of his various minor failures to overcome his flawed nature...or," he pauses meaningfully and looks Joresh right in the eye "it could be the hint of truth peeking out from the façade that the Mockery and the Shadow have woven around someone who is truly evil at heart, to hide his intentions and the threat of his presence until it is too late."

He stands, reaches up, and places a hand on Joresh's shoulder. "I want to see the best in people, I really do; if my tone is accusatory, or if I seem like I'm too readily trusting an inquisitor over a colleague, it is because over the past century I've sadly run into enough deceit to know that I must take such allegations seriously. Since I met you, I have seen mostly good in you, and I'd like to believe that you are what you appear to be. But I also know that the Dark Six love chaos, death, and destruction, and they would delight in foiling our plans and starting a war. Please...show me that my concerns are unfounded, and explain to me why someone looking into your soul might see evil lurking there."

[Rofltrollcopter]

-------- talk with Ignatius

Before we proceed any further, if you intend to act as my confessor I want your word that you will take everything I say in strict confidence. He looked forlorn. The last person I confided in broke my family apart. I do not want to see the same happen here. Since Nevitash? Has it really been that long since I've had an honest talk with someone?

For what is worth, I promise you this: I have every intention of seeing this mission to a successful conclusion. Starting another war is the last thing I want. I have no doubt that the King's office vetted everyone here, myself included.I trust everyone in this group.

Spoiler

Show

The underlined statement? That's a bluff:
Bluff: (1d20+13)[27]

[Mechanix]

"The thing I find strangest and most concerning is that this report also mentions the bomber seeming distraught before using the ring, but panicking afterwards, as if something was happening that they had not expected. It's really the one thing that I've found strangest in this whole affair; it suggests that the bombers are being used, and are not allowed to know what exactly they are about to do - and yet still know enough to be distraught before the realization of what's really about to happen."

The shifter takes another swallow of ale, before putting down her tankard, frowning thoughtfully. She's sitting in reverse position in a wooden chair, one arm hanging limply over the back, the other now scratching her ear.

"My guess... If I had to hazard one... Would be that they're being lied to and convinced to commit something which they believe will be suicide. This would explain why the man in Wroat seemed like he knew he was going to die, and this one was crying; they knew they were going to die. Then they panicked because they realized that it was not just they who were about to die, but all the people surrounding them as well."

"Which, of course, would still leave the question of how they were convinced to kill themselves in the first place. Maybe some kind of blackmail, or maybe they were seduced by some kind of cult which convinced them to be martyrs. Obviously we'd have an easy answer if we managed to capture a ring-bearer, but our plans so far seem to be mostly focused on containing the explosion than preventing it - we might not have the means for that."

[CandyLaser]

Repairing the hole in the roof was the work of a moment. Orlov touched it, and his dragonmark glowed as the wood knitted itself back together. That didn't do anything about the black mold. That wasn't really Orlov's specialty, but he could do something about it, at least. He went in search of the hostess, Olyvara. With some cleaning supplies, he could conjure up a helpful little spirit that could scrub away the mold, but the supplies were necessary. Olyvara seemed to be amenable to making new friends, and good deed here might pay of in unforseen ways.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Strategy Meeting

"I would certainly prefer to prevent the explosion if at all possible, and capturing a ring-bearer would be best of all," Ignatius says in response to Autumn, "but I believe we must also prepare for the scenario in which we cannot do that; better to have the backup plan and not need it than to watch our first plan fail and see many innocents die." He rubs his chin through his beard for a moment, pondering, then asks, "Why would someone be persuaded, by whatever means, into committing a very public suicide and not expect there to be collateral damage? Moreover, even if the first victim fell for such a ruse, why would the second one not make the connection to the first attack? Blackmail wouldn't do it, as they'd still know beforehand that they'd be causing all of those other deaths; martyrdom could be the answer, but that would require a very specific victim, one selfless and devoted enough to martyr himself but not selfless and devoted enough to want to kill others."

He sighs and shakes his head. "I don't think attempting to deduce the ring-bearer's motivations is a fruitful line of inquiry, since even if we could figure that out somehow, which is unlikely--and I would certainly hope that everyone here would have difficulty getting into the frame of mind of a desperate suicidal and homicidal martyr!--I don't think it would be possible to find the ring-bearer, persuade him to listen to us, connect with him, and persuade him not to go through with it in a timely manner...and even that assumes that our target isn't under some sort of subliminal compulsion to set it off immediately the moment it looks like someone might try to talk him out of it."

The gnome stands and walks over to the wall, then retrieves a few pieces of chalk from his inquisitive's kit. "I believe we should take a more organized approach to our planning process. Let us consider the potential attack in stages. Step the first, detecting our target." He writes 1: Find Target on the wall and underlines it. "Ideally, our plan for this stage would allow us to detect the ring-bearer and stop him before the attack is anywhere close to occurring. Step the second, stopping the attack before it occurs. This would be the plan involving anti-teleportation wards and such. Step the third, stopping the attack as it occurs, for plans involving talking down or persuading the ring-bearer, enchanting him to re-use the ring, and similar. Step the fourth, stopping the attack once it's in progress, for plans involving neutralizing the vest or containing the explosion." He writes 2: Prevent Attack, 3: Interrupt Attack, and 4: Negate Attack on the wall and underlines them as well, leaving suitable space between them to allow for plenty of writing in each column.

"I believe we've come up with fairly good ideas for step two, though we'd need to flesh them out a bit more; this would mostly fall under our resident artificer's expertise, as discussed earlier. I've proposed an idea for step three--quite a sketchy one, admittedly--at which Calandras would probably excel, though I believe we should come up with more ideas before we decide on something final. Does anyone have any ideas for steps one or four that we could discuss, or any further suggestions for our existing plans?"

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

Talk with Joresh

"The last thing I want to do is to cause you harm, emotional or otherwise, and I certainly do not want to cause a rift in our group," Ignatius assures Joresh. "I solemnly swear, in the most righteous name of Dol Arrah and on my honor as a Speaker for the Host, that I will not repeat anything you say to me to another living soul without your permission." The gnome hears nothing but sincerity in the kalashtar's words, and offers a brief smile. "I'm glad to hear that you trust us and have Khorvaire's interests at heart. I hope you will not be offended, however, if I ask if you would mind if I cast a truth-telling ward around us before we go any further, and that you would willingly submit to it. Not that I expect you to be dishonest with me, but it is standard procedure for these sorts of things in Host temples and I've become accustomed to relying on Dol Arrah's aid in these matters. If you'd rather I didn't, I won't be offended or assume you're trying to deceive me, but I would naturally be less confident in my final assessment."

Spoiler

Show

If Joresh agrees to it and agrees to waive his save, Ignatius will cast a zone of truth on the room. Otherwise, he'll cast divine insight on himself to be used on a later Sense Motive check.

[rypt]

Esara

Esara paces slowly along one end of the room. Though she is listening to the discussion of her companions, her thoughts are preoccupied as she considers the strange state of awareness of the bombers, a peculiarity that Autumn seems to have picked up on as well. That the bombers seem to be knowingly acting against their own self-interests is suggestive of a very particular type of magic, but it is a type of magic with one highly relevant limitation. It could not possibly be responsible for the actions of the bombers unless...

She stops mid-stride and turns to the others.

"We know that the rings are being used to call the vests to the bombers' bodies, but what of the actual detonations? We don't yet know how the blasts are being triggered, but it would appear that the bombers are as alarmed as their victims by the appearances of their vests. What if they aren't working alone? What if another individual is responsible for the activation of the bombs? Divorcing the bombers from the final act would allow them to be placed under the command of a geas, a magical compulsion that binds an individual to a particular course of action so long as that action is not certain to result in the individual's death. Unlike other enchantments where the mind of one individual is dominated entirely by another, the subject of a geas remains perfectly self-aware, and is able to act according to their own volition so long as they abide by whatever instructions were specified when the spell was cast. In this case, the bombers might have been told nothing of the vests beforehand, instructed simply to activate a magic ring in a certain place and at a certain time." She waits a moment to allow the others to consider her theory. "It would explain the sad smile of the man in Wroat and the tears shed by the man in Korth. I think they both realized that they were party to something terrible, but neither understood the consequences of their actions until it was too late."

[n0ble]

Prick, he mumbles bitterly at the Cardinal's response. Still, the vampire did have some useful information. Best not to tell Ignatius yet. To much going on. Besides, this gathering at Thalingrad will take priority. With that thought he jolts upright, becoming the fat squire once more. He asks at a bar for directions to the keep.

Upon reaching the Castle grounds, he idly strolls by, attempting to discern any security measures that might be employed at the front entrance and castle ground.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Rolling for Listen: (d20+10)[30]
Rolling for Spot: (1d20+10)[25]
Rolling for Spellcraft: (1d20+9)[20]
Rolling for Knowledge Local pertaining to Thalingrad itself: (1d20+6)[19]

I'll edit my post to reflect whatever information he discovers.

[3SecondCultist]

Calandras

As you move to the highest tier of Flamekeep, you can see the great flags of Thrane flapping in the wind, the seemingly infinite lights of one of Khorvaire's greatest cities filling the multitude below you. Up here, grand gardens and thoroughfares give way to the great stone walls that surround the castle. Only the great marble Cathedral of the Silver Flame on the rocky plinth above overshadows Thalingard. Lit by a host of ever right lanterns, one of the first things you notice is the heavy guard presence. You can hear the barking of dogs, the ragged leather-sound of boots on stone, the low voices of commands as squadrons of the faithful make their rounds. Few of them seem to notice you, disguised as a squire.

Thrane has little in the way of nightlife up here, but you can see servants and attendants busying themselves around the great gilded gates into the castle. Gardiners, caterers, and newly hired help are busily making the grounds habitable. A massive silver and gold banner is being hung over the archway into Thalingard proper, and you notice a pair of massive stone statues flanking the entrance, below which are gathered a platoon of what look like warforged soldiers. These aren't military, they look more like a private outfit by their arms and lack of uniforms. One of them makes eye contact with you, and murmurs something to his compatriots. It takes some straining to make it out: "We're being watched. Look alive." This is met by a few rusty laughs as they take up arms and watch you leave.

By the time you get to the next block, you notice him: a man wearing military getup and a breastplate with the silver spear and flame of the faith. After a minute, you realize you recognize him. He was on the bridge into the city, leading a group of soldiers, and he noticed you then. He isn't all that subtle in trying to tail you, and eventually breaks all cover and shouts for you to stop. In the moment your fight or flight instinct kicks in, and somewhere between the man's stature and his formidable equipment, you feel the sudden urge to pursue the latter.


Orlov

With the aid of your Cannith abilities, you are successful in shoring up the gap in the ceiling boards. And Olyvara is quite prompt in returning with cleaning supplies, flashing you an easy smile as she helps you eradicate the mold and returns with a bucket and mop to clean the floor.

Once she's done, she leans in close. You can smell her perfume underneath the fish stench, and it's actually quite lovely. But her breath is awful. "I'm not supposed to tell you this - it's against the owner's policy - but someone inquired after you right after you got here. A sailor called James Worth, he stayed in room 119. Checked out almost right away. Went into the city at all hours but kept to himself. Paid in cash, generous and up front." The hostess moves a bit further back, and you can see that her smile has completely faded. "I wasn't sure about you, but you seem like decent enough folk." She nods as though she's just murdered somebody, then mumbles something about other customers needing her attention.

[n0ble]

Time seems to move a bit more slowly around Calandras as the captain yells his order. Just the adrenaline. It's been so long since someones found you. Your just not used to it. Use it. Just pick a point and run. Run to it as fast as you can. Calandras obeys the captain's orders coming to a full stop, closing his eyes as he does. He pauses, rolling his head from side to side to pop the cartilage in his neck while cracking his knuckles, as if waiting for what will almost certainly be a fight. Eyes opening he rapidly sketches a sigil with his hands before placing his hand on the symbol, murmuring a few syllables. A brief humming sound emanates from the symbol and fill his ears and body. It's all he hears as he takes off. GottolosehimintheMiddlecity.Notmytime.Notyet

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Using 3 Inspiration Points to use Cunning Surge, then using the extra action to Caste Haste on myself
Then I'm going to take the withdraw action to move 120 down the street (hopefully into the middle city)

[CandyLaser]

After finishing with his good deed for the day, Orlov returns to the room where most of the others are assembled, busily working on the plot to find the bomber before they strike. After taking a moment to read over the chalked up proposals, he speaks. "Sorry to interrupt, but does the name James Worth mean anything to any of you?"

[3SecondCultist]

Calandras

With the help of your haste spell, you successfully make your way down into the more populated streets of the Middle City and escape the sword of the captain. He cries out after you, and you're able to make out the semi-breathless first tenet of the Thrane code of justice to apprehend those suspected of criminal activity. 'Guilty until proven innocent' is sometimes the mantra of those carrying out the law, and you wonder if that might be the case here. Indeed, as you look back, you can see his lips forming the words 'Silver Flame', but then he's gone, as you duck into one of Flamekeep's night markets. For the most part, the merchants here are in the midst of selling religious wares: candle wax, silverware and ornamental jewelry for the upcoming First Dawn celebration, but there are also a few fresh food carts that look to be from the outlying agrarian towns such as Tellyn and Athandra.

Almost immediately, your keen hearing picks out shouting from behind you, and you can see more guardsmen beginning to spread out across the streets. Evidently, the captain has called down reinforcements. Crouching behind a stall, you can see him giving orders to a few sergeants on your eastern, most likely giving out your description. A pair of guardsmen approach from the northwest street, and behind them you can see a larger square with a couatl figurine fountain. They carry loaded crossbows. In your running, you seem to have gotten slightly lost, as the twisting streets of Flamekeep loom all around you. The only two ways are back through the guard presence, or through to the other end of the market and into the square. And your window for escape is rapidly closing.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

You're welcome to roll for initiative, but if you can pull off an escape via Hide or Disguise, it won't be necessary. As I mentioned, this does count as an encounter. Also, I was totally listening to this track from Inception as I wrote this, inspired by a similar market chase scene.

Those of you in the strategy meeting... I've given you lots to talk about. I'm posting for Calandras so he can return to the group conversation eventually, and you guys seem to be making good headway on a few plans. Keep it up! I've thrown a few juicy clues your way.

[Mechanix]

"Well, if this is what we have to go on, I think I may better serve the group by going out and-" but as she is about to explain her vague plans, Orlov enters, and she falls silent for a bit, waiting for him to speak up; when he does, she frowns.

"Never heard of him. Is he a lead?"

[CandyLaser]

Orlov shrugs. "Could be. A little bird told me he was asking about us. He was in room 119 here, and I was thinking of taking a look at his accomodations before they get cleaned up."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Strategy Meeting.

Joresh glances up to look at Orlov. He is not amused. Don't be coy. Details?

[Mechanix]

"Ah! Now that's something. A start, at least. If we can get to his room before it's cleaned up - I can pick up his scent. Perhaps track him, though I'm dubious I could do it in a city; if nothing else, at least have it so I can recognize it later. And I'm sure our more mystical friends can do even more with his belongings."

She jumps off the chair on which she was awkwardly sitting, and stretches her arms and legs with a long, low growl. "This is good. Let us visit his room with haste."

[CandyLaser]

"Room 119. Give me a moment, though - this'll be easier if I have a chance to prepare." As usual, Orlov pulls some miscellaneous stuff from his pockets and his haversack. In this case, it's a loose chain that he drapes over his hand, threading it through his fingers as he enchants it. "I don't know what the best way to get in is. I don't have much of a knack for locks. But I might be able to convince Olyvara to let us in."

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Casting a skill enhancement infusion to boost Search. I'll do another one to boost Diplomacy if talking to Olyvara is the route we're taking.

OOC EDIT: Crossed paths with the DM on my post, but it doesn't change anything I'm doing.

[3SecondCultist]

Autumn, Joresh, Orlov

It doesn't take all that much convincing to get Olyvara to get you into room 119. A soft click and a creak are the only sounds to greet you in the darkness beyond. Eventually the hostess goes to fetch a torch, allowing you to see inside.

The room itself is... remarkably clean, for a sailor. There is only a single entry hall, with an adjoining bathroom and bedroom with a sole bed at the end. What passes as furniture in the Silverman's Shanty has been moved around slightly, judging by the distinct scratch marks on the floor. Even the bed has been adjusted. The more you walk around the space, the more you see that everything has been put out of balance. What was once at least an attempt at symmetry has lost all sense of order. And there doesn't seem to be all that much in the way of personal effects here: whoever this 'James Worth' is, he cleared out in quite the hurry. However, the more observant among you notice what appears to be a fluttering at the windowsill. Further inspection reveals it to be the remains of a scarf, discarded likely due to the various scorch and tear marks in the fabric. It appears otherwise to be of very fine quality, not at all what one might expect to find in a sailor's possession.

Nothing beside remains. However, Autumn's bestial awareness is able to pick up his scent: a dusky mix of cloves and sweat. It's incredibly faint, and you would guess that he has taken some pains to mask his natural odor, but it isn't quite enough. The scent lingers around the room for the most part, but also heads outside. Unfortunately, the shifter lacks the formal training to follow the individual scent amongst the matted crowds of Flamekeep, or even the ramshackle dining hall of the Shanty below. Only a great deal of luck or persistence will allow her to proceed.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If you had Track, Mechanix, this would be easy. But you don't, so technically I shouldn't even allow you to be doing this: you can roll Survival to try and track Worth's scent. However, the DC in all cases will be 10 higher than normal, representing just how hard it will be to do this without the feat itself. You can't take 10 on these checks, although you can take 20 if you want.

[bcool999]

Ethan

Ethan has little complaints about the establishment they take as their base of operations, he'd spent much of his young life in worse before enlisting, and in fact was born in much greater squalor.

Once the strategy meeting starts, Ethan pulls out a dagger and listens to the theories and plans of people much smarter than some career soldier whilst trimming his fingernails with the dagger. When the priest starts writing on the wall, Ethan clears his throat and says, "You may want to erase that writing Ig, I am sure we are all bright enough to keep the details straight in our heads without leaving behind any potentially incriminating evidence. Wouldn't take much for Thranish officials to lock us up for a long time in a very uncomfortable space while they invent charges."

When Ethan hears about Geas's and their possible use in these attacks he sighs and shakes his head. "Nasty bit of spellwork that... I wonder if all these men took the Geas together... if that is what is being used. Had the times and places of activation set up far before time with instructions in the Geas to say nothing of their plans, it would certainly explain the regularity. After the first attack, or perhaps the second, the men with the rings might have started to realize that they were doomed as the attacks lined up with the instructions for their fellows. So they were left with the knowledge that they walked to the gallows with no way of telling anyone. The man in Korth wept as his time drew near, and the one in Wroat smiled at the trick. It would also explain why they started to scream after the vest appeared... they were free to try and warn others, but far to late for it to matter... How hard would it be for us to break a Geas should we find the man ahead of time?" Ethan punches is hand in frustration and says, "These foes hide behind puppets and proxies to fight their little shadow war... What I wouldn't give for one of the puppeteers to be within 500ft. of me... they would find themselves with more quills than a porcupine in seconds."

[Mechanix]

"I have the scent... But it's faint."

The shifter stands at the threshold of the inn, her face thoughtful, eyes cast over the street. So many people moving around - such overwhelming array of fragrances. Here, a man in a green coat - he had seafood for lunch; it was passed, and now he smells of sickness in the making. Ten yards away, a cart - wooden floor covered with scattered hay, the thick scent of the pigs it carried to the market earlier on lingering on it. A faint trace of fear - perhaps they knew this would be their last day. A woman passes in front of the inn - too much perfume, stains on her pretty coat, afraid of what she looks like.

Autumn closes her eyes, breathing in. The scent is there, she can feel it just fine, it's just that she can't focus on it, everything else is just noise covering it, masking it... She shakes her head and smiles.

***

It was two hours ago; they'd taken room in the inn and she was watching them all walking around, talking, crafting, doing their business, their things. It put her in mind of the train - her sitting on the floor, meditating, while everyone else seemed to be doing something of value, something that would help the group, and she was just... Communing. Trying not to think of what I have lived through someone's eyes. She pushed that thought away. Her skin crawled - the desire to move, to be proactive, to do something to feel worth being here, to feel like she belonged.

She left the inn without warning anyway, pacing the streets of Flamekeep with her hood pulled over her face and her cloak beating in the wind. Following the motions of the crowd, getting lost in it. The city is its own kind of wilderness... She followed until her errant eyes found what she was looking for. A store selling magic items. Cheap, simple. She entered it, drew strange looks, did not find what she was looking for. She left, blended with the crowd again. Followed the motions. Another shop, bigger, shinier. Racks of glittering magical weapons hanging off the walls, swords with starlight in their edge, armors of silver burning to the touch. Nothing there for her, so she left.

It was a smaller shop, a stranger one, in a more downtrodden part of the city. There were shifters there, strangely - she couldn't figure out why some of her own kind would stay here, and they looked at her with just as much worry and defiance as the humans. It made her feel even more on edge, as if rejected by the only one she had not expected it from. She looked away - and there saw the worn-down facade, the leering masks hanging around the doorframe. She pushed the door and found herself in half-darkness, surrounded by strange sculptures and hanging furs.

There was a man at the desk, human, and a shifter woman sitting next to him, with blue-ish hair and feather patterns adorning her skin. Autumn saw them, but did not pay them any attention, for above them - looming over the shop with a predatory grin - was something that called to her.

Gems and platinum coins spilled over the desk, and she said not a word, but pointed to it.

***

"But it's okay. I have made... preparations."

With these words, Autumn reaches into her cloak and pulls out a strange thing - a red-brown mask, seemingly carved out of wood - perhaps mahogany? - representing the stylized face of a tiger, mouth half-open, fangs curving out of its mouth, eyes fierce, the whole thing seeming to smile dangerously. And as she put it on... Autumn had the exact same smile. She breathed in again, and everything became so clear, all the scents finally dissociating into sharp focus, like trails in the air. She opened her eyes.

The mask adjusted on her features perfectly. In fact, it seemed to blend slightly, to curve so as to better fit her; and when she looked at her companions again the mask seemed to have... a strange air of life and motion to it.

"Any of you who wish may follow me," she says, with a strange undefinable tinge to her voice. And then - she's gone, following a trail only she can sense.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ignatius waves off Ethan's concerns about the writing in as polite a manner as he can manage. "No need to worry about leaving anything incriminating behind; once we've finished our planning, I can simply prestidigitate away any remaining chalk, and not a single speck of dust will remain to hint that anything is amiss." He hesitates, then adds, "And I'm not particularly fond of diminutives, but if you must use one, I think 'Nate' sounds quite a bit more distinguished than 'Ig' or 'Iggy'.

"Regarding the geas hypothesis, it does sound promising," he says encouragingly, making a note of it off to the side and writing Prepare anti-enchantment remedies under Step 2. "Breaking such an enchantment would depend on a number of factors: how skilled its creator is, whether they are using any implements to assist them, and so forth. If whoever laid the geas isn't too much more powerful than I, I would be able to break it, but I'd have to prepare specially for it, which I'll make sure to do."

When Autumn dons her mask, Ignatius takes note of her dangerous expression and change of voice. I do hope I don't need to start worrying about her as well as Joresh. One colleague treading a thin line is quite enough already. Aloud, he merely says, "I think I'll pass, thank you; I'd only slow you down. Best of luck in your hunt."

[n0ble]

Calandras curses inwardly as the he sees the guards take up positions before ducking back behind the stall. He briefly pushes the humming noise from his mind, collecting his thoughts Godsdam. Who would have thought it was illegal to walk around in this place. . He quickly slides under the market stall, bundling himself up, making his body as small as his doppleganger heritage will allow, before changing his form once again. The old, pockmarked beggar makes a return, dirty robes and all. However, the key difference in the beggars appearance this time is that his right hand is no longer whole: a large amount of flesh appears to be missing, including his ring and pinky finger. His left calf also bears the marks of combat: a large, crater-like scar is embedded in it. Content with the disguise, and hopeful that he hasn't been seen changing shape, the beggar slides out and up from where he was hiding and makes his way across the market to the square with a limping gait.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Hide check, burning a point of inspiration for a total of +24 (1d20+25)[27]
Disguise check, burning a point of inspiration for a total of +32 (1d20+32)[39]
I'm now down to 10 inspiration points.

EDIT: the hide check should only be 26, i put the +25 instead of +24

[3SecondCultist]

Autumn

You make your way through the warren of Flamekeep's Lower City, your newly heightened senses catching up to Worth's trail. Although you lose the scent for a moment here and there, you can gradually trace the man's steps for the past few hours. Indeed, the trail proves to be quite long, and indeed quite peculiar. By the smell of him, it seems that Worth has been travelling through the twisting streets of the city's poorest districts, stopping outside a series of bars and other travelling taverns. The trail never actually goes inside any of these establishments, though. Good thing: you're not sure that a shifter wearing a tiger mask would have been allowed in at all.

You end up following the smell of Worth to at least a dozen different buildings, but after a while the trail finally seems to deviate from its established pattern. Winding through several choice alleyways, you begin to realize that your nose is taking you gradually up the tiers of Flamekeep, towards Thalingard and the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, the glittering gems in Thrane's great crown. Following the great stairs between the tiers of the city, you come to the wider avenues of the Middle City, the everbright lanterns on the street corners and tidy houses everywhere. It's up there, approaching one of the open air markets that leads to the Upper City, that you first hear the shouting. Rounding the corner, you can see what looks like a squad of guards tearing apart the stalls and pulling aside merchants and customers alike. At first, the entire scene seems incredibly chaotic and it's unclear what they're looking for, but they seem to be asking after a suspicious character who fled on foot. You also notice what looks like an old beggar missing a hand, limping towards you. He is fairly indistinct from the other people in the market.

But why does he smell exactly like Calandras?


Calandras

Managing to make your way into a seemingly deserted corner of the market, you successfully change your shape without anybody seeing you. At least, there aren't any audible cries of 'shapeshifter' about. The people of Flamekeep - of most of Thrane - still harbor a great mistrust of shifters and all those who can change their skin, a well known fact. It would be foolish for a shifter to be walking these streets alone. But, there will be enough time to dwell on that later. For now, there is still the matter of getting out of here. Over the crazed din and the riff-raft, you can hear the captain order his subordinates to begin closing down the market. You can even make out his words: "Nobody enters, and nobody leaves. I want him found!" He seems quite determined, this fellow.

Nonetheless, even limping in your new beggar's guise you should be able to make it to the square and freedom before the guards cordon off the area. Your strides carry you closer, and you can feel yourself beginning to relax. Suddenly, you can see a lone figure emerge from the shadows on the edge of the fsr square. A terrifying figure, hooded and cloaked. She - the body type seems to suggest a female - is wearing what looks like a living tiger mask, which gives her the appearance of one of the demonic rakshasas. As she draws closer, you'd swear you recognize exactly who it is, although it doesn't make much sense. What would Autumn be doing here?

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I can create a Roll20 map in a few hours to show your current positions, if that'll help visualize things and for if a fight breaks out with the guards.

[Mechanix]

Autumn stopped dead in her tracks, shaking her shoulders in a gesture of irritation as she saw the guards tear apart the marketplace. This was going to make her pursuit... Her thoughts trailed away as she picked up a scent she already knew; there was a moment of surprise, and she sniffed at the air to change her focus, to concentrate on the new smell. Calandras? But this beggar looked nothing like him... to the point of missing a whole hand. She frowned - which unintentionally gave her tiger mask an even more ferocious air - and pulled the hood over her face to disguise her striking appearance, before edging closer to the beggar.

"Calandras?," she whispered. "Is that you? What are you doing here?"