War of the Burning Sky: The Scouring of Gate Pass

[Fax Celestis]

You have each been told to meet someone by the name of Torrent¹ at the Poison Apple Pub a little before midnight on New Year’s Eve, and to use the alley door. This seems a bit strange, as the pub has been closed down since its owner was arrested.

The people of the city know an army is on the way, so the streets are fairly deserted and normal festivities muted, letting you travel fairly unmolested. The pub is in a poorer district about a mile from the western city wall, filled with slush-covered cobblestone streets and dark, snow-filled alleyways. The evening is dark and claustrophobic, the multistory buildings of the city looming in the night, no lights in most windows.

The pub is a two-story building attached by a rooftop bridge to a neighboring house. The door and windows are boarded up, and the curtains drawn (though a faint light can be seen upon close inspection). A notice has been posted on its door:

"Trehan Finner, owner of the Poison Apple Pub, has been taken into temporary custody under the protection of the city guard, until such time that he can be questioned by representatives of the Ragesian Empire, and found innocent of hostile collusion. The Poison Apple Pub is hereby closed until further notice."

The adjacent building connected by the bridge is the Finner residence, currently unoccupied. Down the street from the pub is a stable where some of you have left mounts, and you have been told to enter through a side alley entrance to avoid being seen. The door is locked, but you've been instructed to knock. As each of you do, Torrent opens the door a crack a few moments later. After checking to make sure it's safe, she lets you in, gesturing casually to a table where she has set up a lamp, a map, several mugs, and a small keg of beer.

Helionaluxis arrives first, followed by Sovorian, Lyanne, Cyrick, and lastly by Varcolac.

The darkened pub is mostly empty now, its many tables and chairs pushed to one wall and covered with sheets. A single table sits in the middle of the room, with enough chairs for all of you. A small oil lamp and a keg sit on top of it, along with several mugs. At the back corner of the common room beside the bar, a staircase leads upstairs. The windows and door facing onto the street are closed, and you know they have been boarded up from the outside. On the wall behind the bar hangs a bronze bust of the former emperor of Ragesia, Drakus Coaltongue, a regal, aged half-orc with a scar cutting diagonally across his face. You and Torrent are the only people in the room.

As tall and strong as the typical warrior, Torrent is a distinctive looking woman with tanned skin and short white hair. Under a dark winter coat she wears a breastplate decorated with blue wave-like etchings, and a holy symbol² is tied to her wrist with a leather cord. Her demeanor is smooth but forceful, like an ocean wave.

Once you all arrive, she says: "Thanks for coming. Have a drink. Just because we’re about to go to war doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate the new year."

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¹Knowledge (Religion) DC 20: Torrent is a devout follower and a priestess of Leviatan, god of the sea.
²Knowledge (Religion) DC 13: The icon on her wrist is that of Leviatan, god of the sea.

[kamikasei]

Lyanne accepts a mug, though she can't help wishing it was mulled wine given the cold night outside. Well, I've had a hot meal and a night's sleep in a good inn; that's enough taste of luxury to be going on with. At least this woman she's been told to meet looks capable; this probably isn't going to be a waste of her time.

She looks around at the others gathered about the table, assessing. A more motley bunch than she's accustomed to, but all look like they can take care of themselves. Her eye catches on the golden ones of the copper-haired woman in chain and shield, definitely familiar. Her brow creases slightly as she tries to place her.

While her mind works she raises her mug to the group. "To the new year, and interesting times."

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Varcolac hangs back, hands folded across her chest, but consents to accept a cup of ale.

"Those who live them seldom have cause to bless interesting times."
Her voice is a throaty baritone; it might be sultry, if it weren't for the unmistakable burr of an ethanol-slowed tongue. Still, she's clearly an old hand at drink, and tips back her cup with a good will.

The lady in red- for so she is- takes a seat, hips swinging to one side and the other. Her leather armor is blackened by wear, and dented and scratched in innumerable places; it looks as if it might once have been the under-layer of a more protective suit. In contrast to the fraying armor, her wide-legged trousers and doublet are fine, edged in brocade and studded with garnets at cuffs and high collar.

The sleeves, oddly, have been looped at several points with braided red ribbons, the same deep burgundy as her hair, which hangs in a single thick braid down her back.
Anyone who takes a close look notices that the material is too thin to protect against winter cold, but she seems utterly unaffected.

Her emerald eyes flash as she smiles, lips thin and pale in her dusky face.
"Let us hope our age, therefore, is one without event."
Her smile fades.
"Though, somehow, I doubt it."
Her tone is more bitter than the howling wind.

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Know:Religion
(1d20+4)[13]
(1d20+4)[9]

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

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K: Rel checks (1d20+3=19, 1d20+3=4)

Almost got the 1st one, but not the 2nd. I assume I got it close enough, and Helionaluxis knows Torrent from the religious district well enough, that we can assume she knows the 1st one anyway?

Helionaluxis arrives at the pub as early as it is safe, tersely greeting Torrent. She gives Torrent a brief nod as she comes in. She asks if Torrent's alright and, once she's gotten a reply, sits between her & the door in a perfect position to intercept anyone trying to attack Torrent. She watches the door in silence, hand next to her scimitar.

Helionaluxis stands up and greets you with Torrent when each of you enter. From the moment the door opens, her golden eyes lock onto you and seem to burrow deep into your soul.

After you pull your gaze off her eyes, you see she's almost as tall as you, but it feels like she's looking down at you instead of vice versa. She's also (except for Cyrick) much broader-built. You doubt any of it is fat, though; her motions remind you of a large hunting cat resting between kills. Her dark-toned skin has been further tanned by countless days outside, making the golden flecks scattered across it and the light-colored scars crossing her right arm stand out. The flecks flicker as she moves in the light; the texture of her skin around them looks scaly. The scars appear to be from just one claw swipe, but that claw was as wide as half her arm, and the individual scars are wider than your thumb.

Her copper hair is cropped short but sticks out a bit on both sides in back, like a lizard's spine frills. She's outfitted like a skirmisher: chain shirt, scimitar & wooden shield, longbow, an exotic kukri where the dagger usually goes.

She tersely greets each of you as arrive, sparing less than a half-dozen words, then going silent until the next arrival. If she feels a particular way about her new teammates, her face doesn't betray it.

Once everyone's arrived, she doesn't speak again until Torrent's request.

"A new year... I don't trace them anymore. I don't find the times as interesting as other people do."

She raises her mug with the others and slowly drinks it. As she sets it down, she looks at Lyanne.

"Your voice... Lyanne?"

She nods, a slight grin flitting across her face.

"Yes, Lyanne... it's been a while. What are you doing up here? Have you changed as much as I have?"

[Proven_Paradox]

Cyrick's entry into the room is as quiet as can be, for a gigantic man in heavy armor. As he enters, he gives a short bow to Torrent before taking his seat.

The tall, heavily built man has straight brown hair that falls just past his shoulders. Intense green eyes rest above a small, angular nose that in turn rests above thin, chapped lips. He wear a well trimmed beard that frames his mouth, and is slightly lighter in hue than the rest of his hair, for an overall result that many would call ruggedly handsome.

He has a bulky, powerful build, with large, well-toned muscles dominating his body. On the back of his right palm, a runic symbol that many would recognize as dwarven in origin is tattooed in black ink. He wears a red and white tabard with a symbol that clearly marks him as a member of the Aquiline Cross on his chest, over well-kept but somewhat crude looking banded mail. On his back hangs a large kite shield, unpainted and undecorated save for the symbol of Heironeous etched into the center. A well-made but plain looking longsword hangs at his hip.

He takes a mug of ale when it is offered, though he normally doesn't drink. 'Twould be rude to refuse, after all. As the toasts begin, he raises his glass and says, in a deep baritone that carries well through the room, "May peace find those who so desperately need it." With that, he takes a (very) small sip of his ale.

[kamikasei]

Recognition dawns at the sound of the scarred woman's voice, and the sight of her arm.

"Amber?" A smile spreads across Lyanne's face. "A while is an understatement. I'm here looking for employment... but it looks like you've had the more eventful life since we last met. I scarce recognized you." She pauses, remembering. "Are you still in contact with Merri?"

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

Helionaluxis's grin disappears at the mention of Merri. "Yes. And call me Helionaluxis."

[kamikasei]

Lyanne blinks at that. "I will if I can pronounce it," she quips, taking the hint of Amber's... Helionaluxis'... reaction to her old friend's name. We can catch up when we have a little privacy. She smiles again at her former friend and turns back to Torrent and the larger group.

[The Demented One]

Sovorian enters the room quietly, sizing up those gathered there. He looks to be an average-sized human, his head cleanly shaved. He wears a battered breastplate, with a shield strapped to his back, but no armaments. He takes a drink, and, as the others our toasting, takes some time to think of a suitable greeting.

After a few moments' deliberation, he raises his mug, and says "My name is Sovorian. And may we drink to the best of all possible worlds." He drains a good mouthful from his cup, and then sets it down, to attend to more important matters.

"Now that we are all here, friends, I think we ought turn our attentions to what we all know to be coming. Lady Torrent, now that we have had our drink and toasts, shall we speak of the coming war?"

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

Helionaluxis betrays one final grin to Lyanne before turning to listen to Sovorian & Torrent.

[Fax Celestis]

Torrent grimaces and straightens in her chair, saying, "That’s one year gone.¹ Sovorian's right: it’s time to get down to business.

"The city’s in trouble. The Ragesian army is marching on us, and will be here by tomorrow. Before then, we have a mission.

"I used to study at a magic academy to the south, called Lyceum. They’re good people. So when word reached them about Ragesia’s 'Scourge,' they sent out messages calling for anyone fleeing Ragesia to come to them. They want to stand against the Ragesians, and the resistance wants their help. We just need to get a message to them.

"Normally we would have sent something by teleporting courier, but something strange is going on with planar magic. The last courier who teleported into Gate Pass, rumor is that he showed up burnt to a crisp. Not that I have that sort of magic anyway, but if we’re going to talk to Lyceum, we’re going to have to go overland. And that’s a problem, because the city’s walls are sealed.

"Ever since their emperor died, the Ragesians have been trying to show that they’re not weak, and they’re marching an army in our direction, since the mountain pass we’re in is apparently 'strategically valuable.' Either way, a few idiots on the city council want to negotiate with the Ragesians, and rumor is they’re going to invite a group of Inquisitors² into the city to look for 'magic-users who are hostile to the empire.'

"They’ve sealed the gates of the city so no one can get out, to make sure they look like they're cooperating, and only military personnel can get in or out.

"We’re going to have to get out of the city, and I’m open to suggestions on how. Once we're out, I can get us safely to Lyceum³, but before we get ahead of ourselves, we have a mission tonight.

"The short version is that we’ve got to meet a contact—a halfling who goes by Rivereye Badgerface—in about an hour at a guarded depository about a half-mile from here. He's carrying a case of vital military intelligence which he stole from the Ragesian palace, and the heads of the resistance think that it needs to reach Lyceum. We’ve got to get that case, get out of the city, and get far away from here before the idiot city council lets the Ragesian Inquisitors in. Once that happens, the odds of us escaping are—" here she pauses and finishes off her mug of beer in one long guzzle "—slim.

"I know I'd love to stay here and fight against the Ragesians, but I'm no soldier, and this mission might be more important. Worst case, you get away from the Ragesians and we can part ways a few days down the road. Best case, you can come with me to Lyceum, and we come back with an army of our own to drive off the Ragesians. But we’ve got to act fast either way. What do you think?"

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¹Listen DC 20: You can hear bells tolling and other noisemaking, ringing in the new year. Apparently Torrent has sharp hearing.
²Knowledge (Arcana or Religion):
DC 10:

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The inquisitors hunt for dangerous magic, which in their mind pretty much means any magic used by other people. They have special skills for stopping other mages’ spells. Most inquisitors are humans, orcs, or half-orcs, and they carry metal claws on their hands. Many inquisitors are skilled interrogators, and they use their claws to slit the wrists of prisoners, forcing the prisoner to answer quickly.

DC 15:

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Inquisitors are almost exclusively clerics, with access to divine fire, magic, and protection domains. They wear masks to shield their souls, and thus are more resistant to mind-affecting magic. No one has seen Supreme Inquisitor Leska’s face for nearly forty years.

DC 20:

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Inquisitors cannot turn or control undead; instead, they channel negative energy to dispel magic. Positive energy can inhibit their counterspelling abilities.

DC 30:

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Supreme Inquisitor Leska is rumored to be gathering information on how to steal divine power—not to become a god herself, but to make herself strong enough so that she never need be beholden to a deity. She and her followers are therefore all heretics in the eyes of the deities, and they cannot
be raised from the dead except as undead abominations.

³Knowledge (Arcana or History)
DC 10:

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Lyceum is a school devoted to teaching magic of all sorts. It is located in the small town of Seaquen, on the rocky tip of a marshy peninsula in southern Dassen. Students of the school often travel the world to learn foreign magic.

DC 15:

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The head of Lyceum, a diviner named Simeon, has visited all the major cities in the region and has friends and contacts among the mages of those cities. He founded his school to encourage solidarity among magic-users, and to find ways to use magic for the benefit of everyday people. Many governments think of him as a meddler.

DC 20:

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Simeon has no actual battle experience, having primarily served as an
advisor for nobles and rich merchants. In an attempt to make his school seem more legitimate (and to discourage Dassen from trying to levy taxes against them) he has recruited a cadre of talented warmages and battle clerics, and has offered Seaquen’s harbor as a home port for the Wayfarers, a group of magically-inclined entertainers.

DC 30:

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Many years ago, an archmage was slain at the site where Lyceum now stands. Rumors say he was entombed beneath the school in caverns filled with fire.

Knowledge (Local) DC 13:

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[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

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Listen check; K: Rel check

Listen check; K: Rel check (1d20+1=9, 1d20+3=11)
K: Local (1d20+2=6)

Helionaluxis nods as she listens to Torrent.

"I will go with you as long as I can. What escape routes do you have planned?"

[The Demented One]

"This information the halfling has...do you have any idea what it might be about, or is it not ours to reason why?" Sovorian asks. "But regardless of that, I will see this to its end. Even if there was not the package to be delivered, I think we would still all find it best if we left the city."

[kamikasei]

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Rolls

"Listen" - (1d20+1)[3]
"Knowledge history" - (1d20+6)[15]
"Knowledge local" - (1d20+5)[14]

At "I'm open to suggestions" Lyanne automatically starts assembling everything she can recall about the layout of the city and possible escape routes. She raises an eyebrow when Torrent finishes her exposition. "Lyceum, in Seaquen? I know it. You're right, we should be able to make it there without too much trouble, if we can get out of the city first." Whether it'll help you is another matter. Lyceum's head isn't the most likely figure to galvanize support to a cause.

She ponders. "South's the only way for us - get out the gates and past the watchtowers and patrols. Not much point in trying the indirect approach, every other direction is going to be as risky or worse. I know there's a road south a short way east of here. Perhaps one of you knows the city better than I, and can judge our chances of sneaking through?"

Lyanne turns to Torrent, clearly absorbed in the problem facing them. "Who's this contact of yours expecting? Do you have to meet him yourself? It may not be wise for all of us to go together - better to have a pair at most go to meet him while the rest find and secure a way out."

A thought occurs to her. She looks off into the middle distance and her lips form soundless words as she turns it over before snapping back to decisiveness and looking once more to Torrent. "The gates are closed, but how secure are the walls? On a festival night, we might have a chance of finding an empty building that will let us get over and out if we go high enough. Stay off the main roads until we're well past the city's patrols, and we'll be home free."

Lyanne looks around to the others, waiting for critique. "Oh, and - I'm in." If for no more reason than that this city isn't looking like a very pleasant place to stay.

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

"Why the split? To save time, or to risk only a third of us being killed if they've discovered the contact and set up an ambush?"

[kamikasei]

Lyanne raises her eyebrows. "Not quite so pessimistic, no. Firstly, the contact may be spooked if there's too many people at the rendezvous point. We don't want him mistaking us for the authorities and deciding to stay away. Secondly, two smaller groups will attract less attention than one large one. All the numbers in the world won't help if we rouse the alarm. Our best bet is to get away, if we can, without leaving a trace.

"That said, it depends on how much a second group could accomplish, given that we'd have to meet up after the rendezvous anyway. It may make as much sense to simply have most of us wait near this depository until the exchange is complete."

She frowns. "Torrent, did you say this place is guarded? Are we going to have to infiltrate it somehow?"

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

Helionaluxis looks at herself, then the others, particularly Varcolac & Torrent.

"I don't think we'll be mistaken. Also, two people in a dragon's lair is just as suspicious as four people in a dragon's lair. However, it's easier to kill just two people..."

[Proven_Paradox]

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Listen - (1d20+2)[20]
Knowledge Religion - (1d20+2)[22]
[edit]Odamn. An 18 and a nat 20... Too bad that couldn't have come during combat.

Cyrick sighs. "Any 'infiltration' to come should be done without me; I think it's fairly clear that stealth is not my strong point." He looks to Torrent and says, "However, I would like to know more about the council. For example, how set are they in their current course? Would it perhaps be possible to talk them into opening the gates for us? I do believe I could qualify as 'military personnel,' for example."

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Varcolac raises an eyebrow at a few of her companion's remarks, and seems tolerantly amused by their toasts. She seems unimpressed, though it's apparent she's read their potency- and is waiting to see it tested.

She makes a mental note of Helio's response to an 'old friend', intending to find out more later.

At Sovorian's entry, she seems mildly troubled; something about him tickles that part of her mind that receives...whispers, on occasion.

She listens to Torrent's word, hands softly stroking her arms, running fingers over the red thread.
"Walls are only as formidable as the men on them, and gates are far from the only way out of a city."

She nods at Lyanne's words- and at Helionaluxis'.
"If our...mission is as important as you're making it out to be, we can't take the risk of all of us getting knackered at once- and all of us together couldn't stop a well-trained unit. And I happen to know Gate Pass has a rather...serious-minded commander."

She strokes her chin, leaning forward and looking engaged for perhaps the first time all evening.
"Here's how I see it; I'm probably the best scout among you lot- no offense, of course, but you mostly look clanky, or burly, or otherwise disinclined to stealth. Cyrick here has admitted as much."
She glances over to Hel, and the others, in turn.
"If you're willing to trust me, I have the best chance of getting in to our contact, perhaps with some token of Torrent's so he'll know I'm legitimate. Assuming we have to move past the guards, of course. If the situation's less onerous, we can go together; and if you think that's too lighta force, myself...Sovorian, and...Helio-thingy can most likely get in, with me opening the door."
She bites her lip, assessing.
"If all goes well, the rest of you can wait nearby- close enough for a shout or sounds of a fight to reach, ideally- and I'll deliver the breathing package and the other he's carrying. If it goes south, you can clank and growl and bugger about swinging big swords all you want; it'll create enough confusion, hopefully, that we can sod off and head for the walls without organized pursuit. Cavalry will be somewhat hampered in the streets, and they can't guard every inch of wall."

She leans back, raising an eyebrow and waiting for responses.

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(1d20+5)[6] Awareness
(1d20+4)[9] Know:Rel
(1d20+5)[22] Know:Local

[kamikasei]

Lyanne nods agreement as Varcolac concludes. "I can't fault your reasoning there. Something else occurs to me, besides. I don't know about the rest of you, but when I was advised to come here no one mentioned leaving the city and traveling clear across Dassen. Maybe you all carry several days' worth of provisions and gear on you as a matter of course, but we could all do worse than to gather together anything we'll need for the road or don't want to leave behind. If you're staying in lodgings, I suggest having someone else gather your things for you. Leave the innkeeper thinking you just passed out in an alley or found a companion for the night - just in case the guard come round in the morning to ask if any guests left in a hurry this time tonight. Bring food that'll keep." Addressing Torrent: "You say you can get us to Lyceum safely. How much of a delay will safely mean?" Clearly not finished, she eyes the cleric critically. "Will you, specifically, be looked for even if we get away cleanly? You might want to make yourself less recognizable if so. Doff the coat for the least distinctive cloak you've got and haven't worn in a while. Put some soot black in your hair. Slouch. Make sure no one can answer the question 'did you see Torrent last night?'"

[Fax Celestis]

"These are good points," Torrent says. "Of course, I am not really a master of disguise. Perhaps one of you can assist me in that regard.

"I am almost of the mind that the best way out of this town is to merely walk out the front gate. Sure, there are guardstowers and walls¹, but if we were to disguise ourselves in such a fashion as to be unnoticeable--or at least not worthy of note--that would probably allow us to flee the city without much ado.

She sighs. "...or at least it would, if it were not for this accursed lockdown. The walls of the city are patrolled, and the gates are closed and guarded, except to official city personnel and a few diplomats.²

"Once we get out of the city, we will take a little-traveled road south from the city to the border of the Innenotdar Fire Forest, thirty miles away. Some time ago, the Elf Road ran through the fire forest to the nation of Dassen, where Lyceum is, but during the last war the forest was set on fire, and it has not stopped burning since.

"This road is preferable because all the other major roads that would lead to Dassen, and thus to Lyceum, are either impassable in winter, or they’ll be crawling with Ragesian soldiers. As such, I've prepared for a journey through the fire forest. I've got potions that will let us beat the heat, and I doubt any hostile forces will be able to muster enough similar magic to follow. The trip through the fire forest should take less than two days.

"The road between Gate Pass and the fire forest is the most dangerous part of the journey, but it’s relatively unused. If we go quickly, we should be able to make it to Innenotdar safely.

"No, don't worry: Gate Pass is strong enough to survive a siege of several months.

"It would seem that our main problem is, ironically, getting out of the city. Once we get out, we should be golden until Lyceum."

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¹Know: Local DC 10

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Six towers at each end of the city, and walls around the city gates are 20 feet tall.

²Know: Local DC 10

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One city councilman, Erdan Menash, is sympathetic to heroes and adventurers in this time.

[Proven_Paradox]

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Knowledge: Local (1d20=20)

Wow, rolling well.

"Everyone, I hate to seem rude, but I think we should consider diplomatic channels for leaving before we try sneaking out." Cyrick takes another drink of his beer at this; a considerably larger one. Replacing his cup on the table, he says, "I believe in my brief time here, I recall hearing about one man... Menash, I believe? I vaguely recall hearing that he was sympathetic to travelers. 'Twould be most helpful if we could simply walk out legally, as Torrest suggested before, rather than sneak our way out. Perhaps he could aid us in this?"

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

Helionaluxis sighs when Varcolac butchers her name. "Hel-e-oh-nah-lux-is. Shortening it would be disrespectful."

She listens intently to the others' suggestions before speaking again. Her voice is slow & solid, almost hypnotizing.

"I believe the contact is guarded by the rebels, so sneaking past them shouldn't be necessary. We could also ask them for supplies for the journey. As for splitting up, our mission is to safeguard the intel. They will not guard it with less people once they have it; if they attack, we will win the first fight or none at all. Varcolac can tail us from the shadows, but the rest of us should stay united.

"Cyrick, it would be best if we left no knowledge of our escape behind us. The Inquistitors will not be as friendly to Menash as we will.

"And save your resistance potions. We won't need them for most of our trip there."

Helionaluxis's narrows her eyes for a moment. You suddenly feel comfortably warm.

"I have some mastery over that element."

A wisp of smoke escapes from Helionaluxis's lips.

(Edit: Doh, let the continuity shuffling begin!)

[kamikasei]

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Knowledge: Local (1d20+5=18, 1d20+5=18)

Lyanne looks at Helionaluxis for a moment before speaking. "I mean no offense to your friend, if you're vouching for her preparedness." She looks back to Torrent. "But I don't know you, and even were it otherwise I'd rather you be offended by my questions than we proceed on a faulty assumption. We don't need any more surprises than we can't avoid."

She frowns. "I agree with... Cyrick, was it? We may be overthinking this. I heard of this Menash he mentions - a real soft touch for a cause that seems worthy. I was told he's a good bet for finding employment if you play down the coin and play up the glory angle. One of us could plead our need to get away before the city's shut in and do heroic deeds elsewhere. If need be, too, I can drop a few names of Dassen lords and captains to make our errand seem more urgent." She shrugs. "And even should that fail, there's likely at least one official who'd like the chance to have a well-armed group of sellswords take some messages out for him before the city's invested."

She looks around. "What do you think? Anyone up for winning us a gallant patron?"

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

"Perhaps, if we ensure the Inquisitors aren't led to him."

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

"As you say, Hel-e-oh-nah-lux-is. I'll be sure to say it just the way you demonstrated."

She smiles sweetly.

"That having been said, the shadows sounds good, and getting out without having to butcher our way sounds better. I'm up for kissing blue-blood unmentionables with that goal in mind"

She laughs, a throaty, barking sound- incongruous in a woman, but not unappealing.

[kamikasei]

"So then the question becomes who's suited to which tasks," Lyanne observes. She begins counting off on her fingers. "One, we need at least one person with an honest face to put on a good show of trustworthiness for this councilman." She looks at Cyrick as she speaks, pointedly focusing on his well-kept hair and beard, and the markers of his piety.

"Two, those who can get to this rendezvous without drawing undue attention. If we don't need to sneak in that's a lot easier, but it'll still be best to avoid being seen to come and go." Naturally enough she addresses this to Varcolac.

"Three, someone who can help Torrent look less like herself. If the councilman's paperwork just says 'let pass So-and-So and companions', and we can get past the gatekeepers without them recognizing you, that's as little trail as we can hope to leave in the best case." And somehow I feel justified in thinking this is another task for you, she thinks as she remains facing the green-eyed woman with the apparent 'inclination to stealth'.

"And four - if necessary, someone or ones to make the rounds and tie up any loose ends before we leave. I don't suggest trying to take the good silver along, but if there's anything any of you have stowed away that may be of use on the road we're not likely to be sorry we brought it."

She folds her arms and waits for responses, realizing as the intensity of analysis fades somewhat that she still has little clear idea of the capabilities of these people on whom her life or at least liberty may now rely.

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

"I can accompany Varcolac to keep a watch for her. I'm local, and the guards will give me a wide berth if I'm in a bad mood."

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Varcolac

The green-eyed lady stands and smooths her rumpled silks, making sure her short blade slides easily from its sheath.

"I'm up for an escort, if you can avoid growling at me. That might attract attention, dear Helionaluxis. I'm local too, if somewhat...lower-profile these days. Old cavalry might know me if they saw me."

She seems to find the last portion of that statement intensely amusing, and is apparently trying not to laugh.

[Mike_Lemmer]

Helionaluxis

A faint hint of a smirk creeps across Helionaluxis's face.

"Then the two of us getting drunk for the New Year and taking a stroll to discuss how the city's going downhill won't look that out of place." *turns to Torrent* "I'll need more ale."