(PF) maggie's Rise of the Runelords: Hook Mountain Massacre IC

[Bhaakon]

"Prolly lost a buncha regullurs when it sailed into town, eh?" Brin adds. "Shame they cannae sidle back up tur the bar. I'd offer a shurvice, but wiffout no bodies...." She lets her words trails off. Not really having much more to say on the subject, she grabs another rib to nosh on. It takes some serious will power not to suck on the bone once the meat was entirely gone, but she manag...oh, dear, no, she's gnawing on the bone. A part of her notes how unsightly was was. She quiets that part by licking her greasy, garlicky fingers.


"Anywash, yur right to distrust one wut wanders into town dishplaying her wares like that." Brin says, once she's done cleaning her digits. Belatedly she glances at Naya and recalls her own previous advice, if a bit hazily. "Least if she's also selling sumfin. Now free ish another matter entire. I means, if shompfin needs...lewd entice-o-mation to sell, itsh prolly a scam."

[jamieth]

"Why do people care so much about what one wears..." Naya mumbles mostly to herself, "As long as it's comfortable... It's how one acts what matters... but", she adds louder, "How did the Paradise sunk? I think... well, you said it yourself, Master Yads, whatever disagreements you had, Lucrecia wasn't breaking Erastil's laws, so why would He sink it just like that? And otherwise, boats rarely sink on their own... even if it was poorly built, and start leaking water, well, it would take a while, won't it? Certainly long enough for someone to escape... Of course, if there was a fire... but in such a weather, I don't think it could start on it's own - surely it takes effort just to keep firewood dry... or if something... or someone... hit it underwater, strong enough to make a large hole... what I'm saying, what if it isn't an accident? If only there was a way to get there and look at what remains of the boat..." the sylph shakes her head, "No, no. Orges are more urgent case. And the Black Arrows... we'll head to Fort Rannick first thing tomorrow. Right?" she looks over her companions - including Noman, an ally unless proven otherwise.

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

Setsuna

Spoiler

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Kiani's Sense Motive: (1d20+10)[28]

At first, when Setsuna goes on about goblins and yeth hounds, the barkeep's grin stiffens, the condescending quirk of her brows as she looks down and studies the back of her fingernails giving lie to just how much credence she gave to that sort of tall tale. However, as she speaks of Cipriano's sacrifice and of her own regret, something in her earnest yet pained voice seems to catch the barkeep's attention and breaks through the professional demeanour of brisk yet polite indifference. Shifting her weight from heel to heel, the barkeep now watches intently, her gaze by turns concerned or impressed as Setsuna describes her battle with Xanesha in all its intimate gory detail and continues to throw back her drink with abandon.

Finally, when Setsuna breaks off in the midst of revealing her true reason for being in Turtleback Ferry, the barkeep chuckles, dusting an imaginary speck of dust from the counter and unable to entirely disguise the slight tone of nervousness in her voice. "I'd ask if you were making all this up, but you're an open book, darling, and I don't just mean the colour of your skin... A lamia, huh. Now that's something to brag about, all right." Leaning in closer across the bar, the barkeep's eyes gleam the dark amber of smoked whiskey as she studies the hollow in the tiefling's throat where the pulse flutters, taking in her trim waist, her slender shoulders. "You don't look strong... but forgive me. The strength of the warrior lies not in her arms but in her heart... is that not a saying from your country?"

As she speaks, she rests a hand cat-like on Setsuna's arm, raising goosebumps where her fingertips trace skin.

Sense Motive DC 10

Spoiler

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Why yes, you are being seduced. The barkeep is probably more interested in seeing you with your clothes off than in hearing more about Minkan sayings.

Setsuna also fails Fort Save, gets more drunk. She gets a +2 morale bonus to physical stats for (1d4)[3] hours. Any additional alcoholic intake within this time requires Fort saves at a -2 Morale penalty.

Player to also make a Perception roll in OOC thread, results will only be given if DC is met or passed.

*****

Everyone else

"Competition is never good - why friend, tis' sheer understatement. That stinking Lucrecia and her bloody boat nearly bled me and Thany dry. Can you imagine this very hall, without all the people, without all this food, empty for months and months? Less than a dozen of me neighbours who felt sorry for me, taking the cheapest beer? We definitely lost all them regulars." In his excitement, Yads forgets for a moment that he is trying to be discreet, making an expansive sweep with his arms at the room around you and pounding the counter with the flat of his hand so hard that Brin's plate of ribs rattles. "Orlandi - that's the innkeeper next door - he and I were on the verge of packing up and moving to Illsurian. That's how bad it was," he mutters with an exaggerated shiver, his affable patter lowering to something approaching a growl.

"I wouldn't know if any Arrows were lost that night. Fact is, if it weren't for some of our crack hunters tromping home real late at night, we wouldn't have known it was a sinking - no fire, no screams. 'cording to them, 'twas at the Shimmerglens across the lake at the third hour, got to shore just in time to see the last lanterns on the Paradise going out and the boat sliding under with this god-awful gurgling noise like some big creature burping after a banquet-like. You're right, missy. There's a handful who say that it's all Erastil's judgment, but I call all that porky-pies. Good Old Deadeye's got better things to do than strike down some city girl who's flashing more breast and leg than a fat chook. If you ask me, some monster - Pinkeye the gar or even that Black Magga - was what dragged that boat down to the bottom of the lake. We did try to send some of the fisherfolk - our best divers - down to the wreck to see if we could get the bodies back up for burial. But they kept getting attacked by giant gars... damned fish. They make tasty eating for dinner, but the giant ones druther have us for dinner as well."

Sighing aloud, Yads mops his forehead with a crumpled blue handkerchief, before using the same to dab at a wet spot on the counter and looking up at Brin. "Don't suppose I could get you lovely ladies and gentlemen more cider?"

[ProudGrognard]

Noman

Noman drinks a bit more and then starts rolling a cigar, with tobacco as fool smelling as was his wine. He light it up and says wonderingly.

"Mighty strange, though, to have a whole ship sink and not hear a sound or a cry for help. Someone should have been aboard, no?

I wonder if perhaps we should pay a visit to this ship, now or after the Fort. Strange things are being set up. First the sinking ship, then these ogres I keep hearing about and now the rangers vanishing. I can see at least two of these things being connected, the rangers missing and the ogres getting more confident, but the ship... I cannot fathom."

[Bhaakon]

"Aye, aye, more cider!" Brin answers, downing the last third of her mug in one gulp to make room for a refill. She waits for Yads to go fetch the next round before she turns back to the others. "Well...I wassunt gonna check, but tis true that's mighty propitious. I s'pose I could ask the Lady to let ush go an check the wreck first thing in the mornin'. Nuffin like a bracing shwim and some hair o' the dog to warsh away a night o' revels."

She was pretty sure as to what she'd find there, of course--this 'Lucrecia' probably performed that sick ritual before scuttling the barge--but maybe pulling up the bodies, whatever little remained of them, would buy some good will in town. And if not, maybe it would get her back in with Pharasma. The failure of her last harrowing still stung a bit, and the newcomer's claims of prophesy were squeezing lemons over that wound.

[Desril]

Setsuna

Even with the alcohol running through her, Setsuna's enchanted tiara made it easy for the tiefling to notice the barkeep's more overt flirtations. Blushing, she nods her head and repeats the phrase in Minkaian, trying to remember that there's another reason to be in this bar than drinking and losing herself in the eyes of the pretty bartender. "And there is more to strength than being able to punch hard," she says, puffing out her cheeks and pouting at the implication that she looks weak. "Speed and precision matters more."

Spoiler

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Setsuna doesn't know how to react, and is drunk, clearly I have to have her look foolish

I'm assuming I failed that perception but I'll edit otherwise.

[jamieth]

"Well, miss Brin... I would think the barge won't go anywhere for the next few days... of course, ogres likely won't go anywhere either, but there's a difference - the barge... likely already killed as much as it could, so leaving it alone won't make matters worse. Orges, on the other hand..." the sylph sighs

[maggie_mcknife]

Red

Swiping a leftover potato from Rico's plate, Red gnaws it and considers their options, tracing circles on her knee to help her keep track.

They could go look for the wreck of this Paradise boat, which definitely didn't sound as though it should've sunk on its own. She could swim too - it'd been one of the few pleasures of childhood. And she could swim good. But they weren't here for that, they were here for the Fort. All this ogre business... Shalelu had been saying so since they'd ran into that giant turtle that all of that was no doubt tied up with the missing rangers. She'd rather not have to handle both ogres and missing rangers at the same time. But if that's where they were going...

"I think... we s-should go to the Fort. But i-if we are g-going to look for the boat... I can swim, so I will help... with that.." Though Red is barely tall enough to see over the rim of her mug, her voice catches in her throat, faint patches of colour rising to her cheeks as a chance turn of the head allows her to catch sight of Setsuna's antics over at the other end of the bar. What in hell-?

Somehow, she didn't think Setsuna was going to go to whatever meeting Rico had in mind for later. Or even back to the inn. Unable to quite hide the flash of rage that fleets across her face, Red chucks what's left the potato back onto the plate and nods at the others, anger honing her stutter into unusual coherence. "I think I will go back first. Tomorrow will be a long day. Good night."

Ignoring the sharpness of her tone and quite forgetting to mention Rico's meeting, Red downs the rest of her cider so fast that it spills down her chin and drips onto her collar. Recklessly tossing her dues to the bar on the table, she turns her back on the others and stalks out the tavern, relishing the bite of the cold air and rain outside as she slams open the door.

*****

GM post

As Red leaves, Yads toddles back with a brimming jug of cider, evidently pleased enough with your attention to have decided to serve you himself. Heaving the jug onto the counter next to Brin with a grunt, he proceeds to clear the dirty plates, giving an appreciative whistle at the sight of how clean Brin has picked the ribs.

"Say, if you lot are gonna go a-roaming, you might want to nip by missus Wenda's store on th'morrow. Rains came bloody early this year and it's a good five hour hike up to the Fort. Seven hours, if you've got me kinda legs. You don't wanna be caught without good preppin' - happens every year, someone gets delayed and stuck out there for the night. We've got all manner of wolves and beasties out there, not just bigfolk."

*****

Setsuna

"Why, do you have another story about that? Still, you're not wrong. There's more than one way to win a fight. And not all fights are on the battlefield, after all."

The barkeep brushes a stray strand of hair behind her scarf, still holding Setsuna's gaze with her own. As she speaks, her fingers drift up Setsuna's forearm with agonising lightness, following the path of her veins.

"I don't suppose... you're willing to hang around a while? It's damned busy here at the Bottom these days. But if you can wait, we could talk some more later, once I've helped Thany close up for the night?"

[ProudGrognard]

Noman

"I can swim, but bows do not work all that well underground. And I don't like being wet all that much. Just saying. But after the trouble I went to find you, I will be damned to Grotus if I leave you of my sight"

Noman spends the rest of the night eating, drinking cheap wine and smoking, observing the banter around him but making little contributions, apart from snide remarks and too-straight answers. At last, he curls just in font of the fireplace with his satchel as his pillow and falls fast asleep right next to a dog. The dog seems to not mind the company.

[Miraqariftsky]

Having had a nice stint in the evening air
To dispel the alky-scents sending
Her nose into disrepair
Rico re-entered, stretching

She took the scene at a glance, understanding quickly.
Hellgirl, you moron! The FRAK are you...?
She'd groaned and reached for Red in passing. Missed horribly.
Not cared one whit 'bout Red's feelings, didja? FRAK. Hope you BLOOD-CHECK her, AT LEAST.

Knowing that the last time Setsuna'd come closest
To outright perishing was by Xanesha's subterfuge
Rico took it on herself to step in,
Grabbed her by the scruff
Whispered harshly,
"Hellgirl. Sayin' dis as a friend. Yer dun... stupid. In more ways'n one...
...But iffen yer rilleh gunna do dis... do a gorram blood check at least. Who was't who near killed ye last an' ain't ye learnt yer bloody lesson? Do we need Sirus dyin' again afore ye learn some minimum proper paranoia?"


Fixed the barkeep with an ever-doubting glare
Briefly considered smashing a bottle over Setsuna's head
Then snorted and lumbered out into the grey weather's fare
Worried for her friend, briefly considered knocking on the door of Red

But decided it's better, for now, to let tomorrow judge
Still not trusting the locals, set her spear against the door
Midway through trap preparation, realized she could do yet more
Talk with Naya, maybe, and guard her door...

...but felt the grey weather dragging at her bone
She set herself down to armoured slumber, with a groan.

[Desril]

Setsuna

Either too drunk or too distracted to care about Rico's less than pleasant warning, Setsuna just waves her off, telling the larger half-orcess that she can take care of herself and offering her a cup of her own, much stronger than simple cider drink, "You have to try this, it is...really good! Will make you less nervous," she says before turning her attention back to Kiani and nodding her head. "We were going to head out in the morning so I am free tonight."

[Miraqariftsky]

Setsuna

Either too drunk or too distracted to care about Rico's less than pleasant warning, Setsuna just waves her off, telling the larger half-orcess that she can take care of herself and offering her a cup of her own, much stronger than simple cider drink, "You have to try this, it is...really good! Will make you less nervous," she says before turning her attention back to Kiani and nodding her head. "We were going to head out in the morning so I am free tonight."

Previously still, apparently!

Having darted to the offered drink, Rico's eyes had widened in surprise at Setsuna's retort. A sad little shadow at the back of her mind shakes its head at how far the tiefling's vaunted compassion and empathy had fallen.

She licked at her lips. Her throat ached for the offered liquor, the thirst stronger than ever. Then she coughed harshly, panting shallowly, breathing heavily.

Nervous my arse! Who the fookin' hell wouldn't be nervous or afraid after all we've been fookin' through?! YE. STUPID. LITTLE... gaaaaahhhh!

Eyes like yellow moons narrowed into a dark glare. Her nostrils flared as she snorted in Setsuna's face, blowing the latter's fringe askew. Her teeth grind as she represseed a seething rage she'd hardly ever felt for a friend.

"Fine. Be it on yer own damned head.

Ma'am Maethilur. I bid ye a good evening."

Her hand darted for an empty stein...
...then crushed it into a little mess of pot shards.

"When the flip-flying-frig-frakkin' arse-monkeyin' hellwankery was the last time I fookin' drank in fookin' earnest? I've been gorram sober fer nigh on two months now! Red's right. Dis ain't worffit."

She turned and flipped a gold guilder carelessly behind her as she left. "Harriers fer the cup. Keep the fookin' change."


HMMPH!

Damn.

Just when I thought we had a quiet 'nuff night.

Just when I was screwin' up ta TELL "EM... well... THAT. Frak everything. Tch!

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

Everyone else

Judging from the faint creases above his brow despite the perpetual beaming smile across his face, Yads is none too pleased about Rico breaking one of his cider mugs. Still, the gold coin to pay for the damage doesn't go amiss. Bowing low with his tray hugged to his chest, the halfling proprietor wishes you all as excellent an evening as the buckets of rain pouring down outside will allow and makes his escape, quickly scurrying over to serve yet another massive plate of ribs to a table of apparent regulars.

For those of you who chose to linger in the tavern over your mug of cider rather than turn in for an early night, you find the villagers of Turtleback Ferry to be a friendly enough if rather reserved bunch when it comes to strangers. Perhaps it is the general suspicion that those of the Erastili faith seem to have towards city dwellers, or perhaps the recent spate of tragedies has simply put people on edge - all those missing patrols and hunters that Father Shreed spoke of, not to mention that most suspicious Paradise sinking, would add up to several dozen people to be presumed dead, after all.

With the glaring exception of Yads and his barker's patter, the villagers are content to converse cheerily and raise glasses with each other, leaving you to huddle over your own drink in silence. As the crowd begins to disperse for the night, you can't help but notice that when they rise to leave, they go in groups of three or more - never alone - and with every person armed with either stave or dagger in hand as they don their cloaks.

*****

Day 57: Neth 18, 4707

0700hrs.

Red

Sleep hadn't helped, hard as it had been to come by. Meditation - the way Rathi had taught her, thumbing her rosary beads, focusing on calming her breathing - hadn't helped either. Red had woken in an agony of tense muscle, her neck stiff and her heart still clenched tight in her chest, her blanket tangled about her legs. Turning onto her back, she stares up at the ceiling of the small room, hair rumpled and her hands already half-curling into fists.

She shouldn't be this upset. A woman had the right to choose, after all. There was no use in getting mad over something like this. Even if Setsuna had lied a little. And what good would it do to be angry?

Red makes a feral noise in her throat and closes her eyes, feeling her pulse throbbing above her brows. There was only one way she knew how to feel better when every fibre of her being screamed and wanted to hit something. And that was to actually go out and hit something.

Hauling herself out of the relative comfort of the warm bed before she can change her mind, Red stumbles towards the water basin, scooping up water in her palms and knuckling at her eyes. Ten minutes later, she stands outside Rico's door in full armour, rapping as loudly as she dares at this hour in the morning. When the door does open, Red merely looks up wordlessly at her friend's sleep rumpled visage, holding up her sheathed kukris in a silent plea.

*****

Everyone else

It is now about 0800hrs.

Unless you were that soused with drink the previous night, the incessant drumming of rain on the inn's wooden roof and windows had made difficult to fall asleep, leaving you to toss and turn uneasily in your bedroll. No matter how you might have told yourself that it was only rain and extraordinarily heavy rain at that, there is something almost sinister about this constant vibrating patter that rattles the window panes, punctuated only by the mournful sigh of the winds through the trees. Without any way of stopping the sound, there is little for you to do but hunker down into your pallet, waiting for sleep to take you. (Or in Noman's case, to curl up a little closer to the comforting warmth of the innkeeper's aged bullmastiff, oblivious to the stench of wet fur and the dog's bad breath.)

When you do awaken the next day, the first thing that you notice is the silence, pouring into your ears, like a balm so soothing that it takes you several seconds before you actually comprehend the reason why. As a quick glance out the nearest window will verify - the rain has indeed stopped - for now. Though the storm clouds still cluster grey and menacing over the village of Turtleback Ferry and thick grey fog wreathes the surrounding forests, at least now you can see the village itself - a cluster of pine-built cabins and stone lodges scattered along the rocky shoreline and bordered by fields of cold, hard earth. Beyond the rickety dock where you'd landed last night, Claybottom Lake gleams the colour of a polished blade and despite the early hour, a single ferry already plies its way across the wind-ruffled waters.

Should you venture downstairs to the main room of the inn, you find the innkeeper - by name of Orlandi, if you recall Yads' gossip from last night - busy attacking the floor with a besom of heather switches, though he takes care to sweep around his slumbering dog (and Noman, if he's having a lie in). Upon seeing you awake, he creaks his jaw into a toothy smile and absent-mindedly uses the dirty rag tucked into his apron string to wipe his hands.

"Your elf friend was up and about. She went off for a walk, I think. Eh, hot drink and some grub for you? There's tea and dark beer, bread and fresh fish, if you fancy it."

Sense Motive DC 14

Spoiler

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The innkeeper seems rather more genial and in fact, oddly sheepish, compared to last night. He seems to be feeling a little guilty about something.

All players, please make a Perception check in your next post. Except for Setsuna.

*****

Setsuna

Spoiler

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Setsuna awakens in a bed that is most definitely not the one in the room that Naya had so carelessly paid for her to occupy last evening.

It takes a moment for events to fall into place for the tiefling. And then the answers to the questions - of why her head hurt so much, where exactly were her clothes, whose tanned arm was so casually draped over her bare hip, and just what what was this terrible soreness and dried slickness between her thighs - hit her all at once, with a speed that leaves her heart pounding so fast that it feels like her ribs might shatter and explode outwards.

Next to Setsuna, the barkeep mumbles indistinctly in her sleep and snuggles in a little closer under the wool blanket.

The barkeep - no, her name was Kiani. The tiefling had breathed the name often enough last night - in the midst of breathless, almost pained whimpers that had built to a crescendo of sobs, teeth clenched, fingers digging into the sheets and into the pillow of a muscled thigh. It is difficult to remember everything - just how much of that excellent drink had she had? Moonstruck laughter, stumbling to Kiani's room, the tremble of lips - warm breath down her neck, between her breasts, along the scar at her belly - fumbling at her hakama straps - the tease of a skilled tongue as her back arched and she'd writhed on the bed, moaning, pushed her in for more -

Ah. There you are. Alcohol does have a tendency to dull your connection with me. You did know that, did you not? Maethilur's voice rings more than a little frosty and it's not just the effects of the terrible hangover.

Even with the blatant disapproval of the black blade and the ache in her head, it is difficult for Setsuna to ignore the stunning beauty of the woman breathing softly next to her, legs still entwined in hers. Kiani's body, save for the red marks clawed into her shoulder, is flawless in its smooth, olive skinned glory - the regal face, the firm arms, the taut belly - and it'd been all hers for a night. The tiefling cannot help but gaze, eyes travelling almost greedily over the woman who had taken her maidenhood, until she spots it - at the joining of the collarbones, just above Kiani's breasts, is a small tattoo of a familiar seven-pointed star, no larger than a platinum coin.

Come on. Do you really need the GM to identify what that symbol is by now?

[ProudGrognard]

Noman

As the man Orlandi starts sweeping, Noman shoots up, bleary, looking at him. He composes himself, pats the dog and is ready to go freshen up and have the cheapest breakfast he can when Orlandi speaks to him. Noman then approaches him, his eyes having a sudden and rare intensity.

"You are being sheepish and sound a bit guilty. What happened?"

Spoiler: OOC explanation of behavior

Show

Noman has a Vow of Truth and a Charisma of 8. This I depict by being straightforward to the point of rudeness, and unmindful of basic necessities, both physical and social. Just saying!

[jamieth]

Naya

The sylph spends her night mostly staring out the window; not that there's lots to see, within the narrow range of her nocturnal sight, besides the rain gradually slowing down, but it's not like she has anything else to do... and the side effect ends up being that, by the morning, she's eager to do something - anything - just for the sake of doing something. Still... "Miss Shalelu left? I wonder... well, she can handle herself... tea would be nice, thank you very much", she smiles, looking around to check if anyone else is up.

Spoiler

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Sense Motive rolled in dice thread; 7
Perception: (1d20)[1]

[Miraqariftsky]

There are few things more relaxing
Than a good sweat in the morning
Moreso if 'tis with an old comrade
Clearing out the cobwebs of sad

Ironclad walks beside 'nother
Light on her feet and a-saunter
Rain's cease--- an unbidden relief
Belly grumbles 'gainst hunger's grief

"G'morn. Good brekkist. Sky clearin'. Eh..."
Rico smiles thinly, scowling at the sky still grey.
"Hope this don't jinx it... But I wonders when the next crap'll come."
At their host she nods. Waiting for the meal, her fingers on the table do drum.

"...Hmm. 'Round how long ago'd she left?"
When he comes again, she asks, gnawing mystery's weft.

Spoiler

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W'elp! Sonnet! That was fun.

Sense Motive? (1d20+9)[24]
Perception? (1d20+15)[16] <---ARE YA GORRAM FOOKYEN KEEDEENG MEH? Hawly cwap!

[Desril]

Spoiler: Tiefling in Trouble

Show

Setsuna

The rest of the night was a blur, and when Setsuna finally woke up, things still weren't very clear. Were she of sounder mind, Setsuna might have taken the first moment she opened her eyes that morning only to be blinded by the ambient sunlight through the window to have sworn off drinking altogether. Instead, however, she simply winced in pain and moved to cuddle up against the woman next to her, ...Wait...

Her eyes go wide before she hears Maethilur's voice and starts to remember the more intimate details of the last night. A million thoughts and none clash around inside the tiefling's head as she stares at the bartender, trying to figure out what to do in this situation, and where to go from here when she spots it. The Sihedron?! Why, no, there has to be a reason! She was far too hungover and distressed to be subtle though, and she quickly shakes Kiani awake, all worries over what happened last night pushed away by the more immediate concern. And though she doesn't shout, Setsuna's question manages to hurt her own ears and she promises herself she'll go find some alchemist's kindness as swiftly as possible, "That tattoo, why do you have that?!"

Spoiler

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I spent way too long trying to figure out how to respond here. I'm not proud of it, but I didn't want to leave it until tomorrow.

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

Everyone else

Spoiler

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Red's Perception check: (1d20+12)[31]

Returning from the kitchen with steaming cups of tea and a communal platter of fried trout cakes at Naya and Rico's orders, Orlandi winces a little at the intensity of Noman's stare. "Eh, good sir. No need to rag on a fella like that," he mutters, lowering his head as he carefully steps around Noman to set the food and drink down. "Well... truth be told, yeh. I... could've charged the rest of you good folk a little less last night. It's usually two gold sails for a room, see. Business has been just so damned bad without the Arrows down to visit... but Yads came by late last night. Had a word with me. Didn't know you lot were the ones from Magnimar. Wouldn't have been so hard on you all then. I'll just count the five gold from the fair lady as good for two more nights, hey?"

The innkeeper grins nervously as he speaks, wringing his hands on his apron. The bullmastiff, having been roused by Noman's petting, limps over to its master on arthritic limbs and nuzzles his knee, a thin whine keening from its throat. Stooping to rub its smelly ears, Orlandi nods appeasingly at Naya.

"Ah. Your elf friend, she was up just before sunrise. Said not to go nowhere without her, she did."

For Noman and Red

Spoiler

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Orlandi's hand gestures have tugged his clothing awry. As he bends to rub the dog's ears, his tunic rides up, exposing the flabby roll of flesh at his paunch and allowing you to catch the barest glimpse of what appears to be a poorly done tattoo of a seven-pointed star.

Red should know what this is by now. Noman saw this last night on someone else.

*****

Red

It'd been a while since she'd sparred with Rico. Sure, she'd been pummelled good and proper - it'd always be hard for her to fight, being so small. Rico had blatted her aside with the shield like nothing, like she'd been swatting flies almost. She ached all over from being hit. Like she'd been punished. But for some reason, that felt right. Felt good. She'd take that for what it was.

Steam rising from their bodies as they enter the inn, Red almost smiles at the innkeeper's suggestion of a hot breakfast. She is already reaching for one of the trout cakes when she spots the ink on the innkeeper's hip and her heart skips a beat.

Leaving the trout cake where it is, she instead grips Rico's arm, squeezing just a little too hard in warning. All the same, her voice comes out more worried than harsh.

"M-mister. That t-tattoo... where did you get it?"

"What? Tattoo? I'm sorry, I don't get what you mean." Orlandi immediately straightens up, tugging his tunic back into shape as discreetly as he can.

Sense Motive DC 10

Spoiler

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Already feeling guilty about having overcharged all of you, Orlandi's bluff doesn't go so well this time. He's clearly not telling Red the truth.

*****

Setsuna

At being shaken, Kiani frowns and growls under her breath, releasing her embrace of Setsuna to clap her hand over her ear instead. Cracking open an eye, the tiefling catches a faint glimmer of annoyance before the barkeep firmly shuts her eye once more, intent on getting back to to dreamland.

"...Ehhh. You never seen a Varisian with tattoos to Desna before?" Her voice is thick with sleep, clearly none too interested in the question or its importance.

Roll for Sense Motive.

[ProudGrognard]

Noman

Noman is satisfied with the explanation. So, he lied and overcharged. That is humanity for you. But then, several things happened.

"That tattoo, the seven pointed thingh? I saw it yesterday in that other fat man. Does it have some significance?"

He turns to breakfast, eating steadily, quite determinedly and almost mechanically everything, as if someone has threatened to take it from him. At the process, he makes sounds of contentment.

"This Shalelu, she is the ranger that came with you? I can try and track her if you like. The rain yesterday would have made the ground easy to leave tracks"

Then, the innkeeper speaks again and Noman stops eating and focuses on him again.

"He lies. Again. He knows something."

[Bhaakon]

It takes an effort of will and strength for Brin to pry open her eyelids. She knows from experience that the light, whatever filters into the room through the drapery she hopes she closed the night before, will sear her retinas and drill back into her skull. She also knows that the gummy concretions of an inebriated slumber seal and cements her lids in place.

Eventually she manages to drack one open just enough to grope for her jug. Just a sip. That will calm the pounding. She tells herself, before hauling the crockery vessel up to her lips for a lengthy guzzle.

Most of the events of the previous night are a haze, though she vaguely recalls a rather forward stranger with an obvious pseudonym and some suspicions about a sunken ship. And boar ribs.

After much reflection and stretch, she eventually extricates herself from the bed, dragging her carcass to the water jug for a long pull and a quick wash before her morning prayers. She loads and lights her pipe, the usual censer for the calming influence of her preferred fragrance. Having refilled her supply in Magnimar, she isn't cheap with the leaves.

And hour later she emerges from her room, her advent framed by a billow of stale smoke, and saunters downstairs to pick over whatever remains of the morning meal.

She hears Noman speaking as enter the common room. "The Sihedron? That's the symbol of the ones we've been chasing. The cult of killers, monsters, necromancers." She says. "Why where'd you see one, er...No-name, was it?"

[ProudGrognard]

Noman

Wordlessly, Noman gives the suffering Pharasmin an Alchemist's Kindness.

"Never travel without them. No self-respecting drunk does."

He then focuses back on track.

"So that is the Sihedron. This is the second person since I got here that has it. Are they all cultists? He does not look like one to me."

[Miraqariftsky]

"Good job, Red.

W'elp. KNEW quiet's too good ta be true."

Rico rises in a clatter
Into the table, gouging grooves
She snorts like thunder
And towards Orlandi, like a storm, moves

Though part of her crows about finally
Having caught the enemy wrong-footed...
...There has yet to be overt hostility
Nor must hospitality be first violated

"Orlandi. Please. Remain. CALM. We... NEED... to TALK with you."

Suddenly listens to a niggling realization
Flips out her trusty notebook
Leafs through the logs of bloody investigation
Groans at a certain truth, nigh-forsook

"Brin. Partial correction. Tis their sign, arright, but not on the perps. On their vics. Their gruesomely murdered vics."

Rico composes herself and carefully sits
Between Orlandi and the door
Not a suspect, but still keeping up their wits
In case he bolts, can't let things get wrong more

"So. Master Orlandi. Let's talk us some tattoos, eh? Tell us about yours. Please.

All y'all else... Is everybody accounted for? Well... gorrammit. Where the frak is Hellgirl? ...dammit. Hope she ain't gettin' murdered again."

[Desril]

Setsuna

Unfortunately, this wasn't the sort of situation in which shrugging off an answer with an obvious lie as Kiani attempted would work. "No, it is not! That is a Sihedron! It is how people were being marked for the ritual to siphon their souls! It is half of the reason that I am here!" she exclaims, the hangover taking a backseat to the more immediately dire issues, "Why do you have that?!"

Should the barkeep express disbelief, Setsuna quickly scrambles out of the bed, rutting around through her hastily discarded belongings to find the medallion she'd been wearing, taken from Xanesha's body.

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I do not know how to play a hangover >.>

[maggie_mcknife]

GM post

Everyone else

Spoiler

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GM rolled for Rico - Diplomacy: (1d20+2)[20]

Most, if not all, of the talk about cultists and the Sihedron goes over Orlandi's head. Like a rat in a trap, all the portly man can focus on is the most immediate danger in front of him - that is, one looming half-orc female clad, cuirass clanking ominously with each step, who looked as if she could crush his skull under her armpit like a melon.

"Fine! Fine- I do have a tattoo. Just a little one." The innkeeper spreads his hands in what is meant to be a conciliatory gesture, somewhat assured by Rico's words though still clearly alarmed at how she sits between him and the door. "Got it several months 'go, when that bloody Paradise boat first sailed upriver. Like - at first I'd gone over to see what's what and to make nice, see. Figured that we'd get more business all round with something new and exciting in town. Owner - city woman, name of Lucrecia - she told me that if I paid a bit more upfront, I'd get this bit o' ink. Just flash it at the door and I'd skip the cover charge. And get first coupla drinks on the house. Said it was only for special patrons. By Erastil's horns, I never oughta have got the damned thing. Had no idea that big breasted bitch was gonna steal all the customers and bleed me and Yads dry."

Snorting ruefully, Orlandi scowls and massages the back of his pudgy neck, eyeing the rest of you with a shamefaced grimace. "You all weren't meant to see that. It's just me and my two boys now, with the wife lost to the ogres last year. There's others about the place with that same ink. Didn't want my boys to know that their papa's been gambling and allsorts. Nothing to do with murders, eh?"

*****

Setsuna

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GM's note: I checked the relevant post. Setsuna made no mention of the Sihedron or the ritual or the runewell process, and I doubt it would have been part of her fight with Xanesha description.

"Darling. I got no idea what ritual you're talking 'bout. Besides. It's my body. I get to decide what ink I want to put on it. You don't get to question that."

Kiani cracks open her eyes again, this time distinctly irritated as she shoots Setsuna a withering glare, her voice flinty. "Look here - my first shift at the Bottom starts at the lunch hour. I need to sleep. Asmodeus can have my soul if Thany finds me late. So either keep it down, or get back to your own bed."

Wow. You are not very good at this, are you? There is the faintest trace of a snigger in Maethilur's voice, which does not help alleviate the pounding headache that Setsuna is experiencing one bit.

[jamieth]

Naya

"So... you're saying every regular of the Paradise got tattoos like these?" Naya asks, "That mean people who were on board that night... they were sacrifices. But... but... it doesn't fit - if that woman, Lucretia, was in a cult, why would she kill herself together with the rest? That is, if she really died... as I understand, no one saw the bodies, did they?"

[ProudGrognard]

Noman

Noman has been following doggedly the discussion. Despite his less-than-stellar appearance, he was not a fool and in fact was wiser than most priests. He started to make the connections: Runes. Cultists. Tattoos. Sacrifices.

Someone has been funneling souls. No wonder the Lady has been involved. His face becomes a bit grimmer. He turns to the others.

"Strange this happening here. I thought you came for those rangers."

[maggie_mcknife]

Red

"We were... But this is... bigger. Than just the rangers." Sighing inwardly, Red finally picks up the trout cake, tosses it from hand to hand to cool it down, then takes a tentative nibble. Then another bigger bite. This was a pretty good trout cake. If the innkeeper had poisoned it, she'd die well fed, at least. But he didn't look like the sort.

"Miss Naya. He said s-special patrons. Not... regulars." But just how many people in town had this Sihedron tattoo then? "Rico... do you have that letter? The one we found... b-back in Magnimar."

[Desril]

Setsuna

Shutting her eyes tightly for a moment to try and blot out the returning pain in her skull, Setsuna groans and tries to explain. "No! It is not....argh," trying to find the right words while emotional and hungover is not easy, and the tiefling struggles for a moment to remember what Kiani does know. "The lamia, she was using that symbol to mark her victims and we came here because we found a letter saying that her sister is here! You are in danger, everyone who has that mark is!"

This doesn't add up though...Xanesha had the Sihedron cut into people and then murdered them, why a tattoo? Unfortunately, the naked Tian princess is hardly in a proper state to figure out their enemy's plans, "You have to come with me, we need to figure out what is going on!"

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Diplomacy? (1d20+11)[17]

[Miraqariftsky]

HNNRRRRR

Partway through the spiel,
An unpleasant upwelling ,
Did the resident orc feel.
Turned on her heel, wobbling.

GANGWAY!

Guarding the "person of interest" forgotten,
Forsook the chamberpots inside.
Too far to be easily done,
Lurched out... made vomit's broadside.

HMBLOOOARRGGH.
gwaaaahhggh.
swaa-HNNNgggghGWWAUUAnnnnBLAAUUUGGHH.
hhhfff... hfff... hfff...

Leant on her thighs.
Retched up a reek.
Bemoans former food's demise.
Stumbles back in, food does seek.

UuuuUUUuuhhnnnggGGGhhh...

Rico frowns deeply, blinking blearily, wiping her face wearily.
Seizes a new breakfast, eating doggedly.

"Sorreh 'bout the interruption. An' sorry 'bout the mess. Sorreh I only got ta tell y'all. Like this. You know the hell we been through the past few weeks. Though. Surprised. Y'all didn't hear. All those other times. Aye, iffen I ain't spellin' it out 'nuff fer ye. I'm pregnant.

SNARF GNARF NOM NGRHF WHARF

Gorrammit. Arright. So...Sorreh fer askin' this...

Roight. Wha'd I miss?"

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Rephrased with OOC humour: Sorry for the delay!

Other OOC joke that I missed dropping: "Hey? What do ye have against big-breasted women, eh?"

OOC joke the third: While I do admit to not having read ALL the Sonnets... HAH-HAH! Is there any sonnet out there that incorporates vomit narrative?

[jamieth]

OOC: to save us time, I'll post under assumption Rico does indeed have the letter, and willing to produce it for evidence examination :-)

Naya

"Letter, miss Rico... one we found in the tower? There was something..."" the sorceress was mosty concerned with the part of the letter claiming a soul-gathering operation was going on in Turtleneck Ferry, and only skimmed the part sender spent belittling Xanesha's methods - and still... "Here! Are you still carving sihedron on them as they expire? How crude! My method of marking is so much more elegant." she finished reading. "And, sure, miss Red... special patrons. So... maybe not every regular. Still... likely most people who were on the barge that night were "special patrons"... She, Lucretia, could only do that once, so she likely chose a night the most... sacrifices could be gained..." Naya pulled her legs up on the seat and hugged her knees, contemplating, "A-anyway... those with the marks are in danger... not the danger themselves. But Lucretia... if she's Xanesha's sister - she could look like anyone right now... how do we find her?!"