The Sinister Spire IC

[tonberryking]

Nephia

"Lovely, that sounds. Reminds me of the time my earlier company went mummy hunting." Nephia gives a slight smirk, shouldering her pack and nodding her head towards the door. "Good times afterwards, I tell you. But nonetheless, I'll throw in with you lot."

[Sophistemon]

Regak glances over at Heggle and offers a swift, curt nod in reply.

"Yeah," he grumbles, "that sounds just about right."

His eyes rove over the new recruits, sizing them up. They don't look very worthwhile to him, of course, as they aren't dwarves, but then that might just be a bit of racial bias.

"Right then," he sighs. "Are we ready? Let's get the warlock and move on."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Mika Anova

Mika looks sharply over at Es Sarch at the word 'warlock', but keeps her mouth shut. She knew better than to antagonize her employer. "Don't believe I caught your names," she says to the group she'll be working with.

[wxdruid]

Es Sarch looks at her from underneath his hood, she can't see his expression. He picks up one hand and gestures in a dismissive way. He's waiting to see if they all return...

[Sophistemon]

Regak looks over at Mika, and his eyes squint beneath his prominent forehead and bushy eyebrows.

"My name is Regak, girl. The gnome there is Heggle. He's a bit of a musician. The other one, who's probably skulking about somewhere, is Rasphiak, a warlock of considerable trickery." He scowls. "Such is the sort of company you can expect when questing for moldy bones." He rests one calloused hand upon the handle of his axe and resets his stance to rest on the other leg, the first one having become tired after standing for so long.

"There, you can be properly introduced later, I think. Shall we go? The smoke is making my eyes itch."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Mika Anova

"Whatever you want, mate," the black-haired human woman says with a shrug. She leads the three out of the tavern. "I can take ya where ya wants ta go. I just hope you're going ta cover my back in the meantime."

[AmberVael]

As the group comes out of the tavern, Rasphiak's feral eyes hook onto them and narrow as he takes in the two newcomers. He flicks his gaze to Regak, looking for the dwarf's expression, trying to read what impression the others have had on him. He wasn't sure if they were outsiders with trickery, or new pack members. One thing was certain though- he wasn't going to be pleasant to them at all unless Regak seemed congenial about their presence.
The warlock slinks over towards the group, slipping into the midst with a disturbing lack of speech or interaction with them, eying Mika and Nephia warily with a measuring gaze, trying to understand their worth. His eyes glow faint green as he attempts to detect any magic auras about them.

[Sophistemon]

Regak looks... pensive. He has sized the newcomers up and judged them to be, at least, physically capable of handling the tasks assigned to them, but for the short time that he has known them he has been unable to properly gauge their mental state. One cannot name another to be a coward without first witnessing their actions in the proverbial "thick of it", nor can one name that person a hero, a good friend, a cunning strategist. So, if Rasphiak relies so totally upon Regak's position to form his own, he might too acquire a watchful, studious expression upon his features, eying the new party members with uncertainty.

[El Jaspero, the Pirate King]

Heggle nods to Rasphiak as he tosses his cigar stub into the gutter. He gestures to the newcomers. "Fresh meat."

[AmberVael]

Rasphiak, noting how Regak and Heggle- Regak in particular- have not yet had time to form an opinion of the newcomers, watches them disdainfully for a moment before finally speaking up, giving a nasty, predatory grin at them both.
"Fresh indeed..."
His unnaturally green eyes flick over them both, weighing and evaluating them.
"I hope you're more competent than the last two fools who trailed after us. They ended up feeding the fish."
The light in his eyes says he's interested in seeing whether they perish or succeed in gaining his respect... and that he'd probably enjoy both. He takes long, graceful steps around the two, seeming far more animal than man, and his expression, eyes, and the way he holds himself in general puts him in extreme contrast with Regak. The dwarf was short, stout, and reliable, honorable to the bone. Raspiak is tall, lithe, and untrustworthy, clearly more crafty and cruel than his companion.
He smirks as he sees Nephia's symbol.
"Elhonna, hmm?"
His lip curls in a disdainful sneer.
"I hope you're not as weak as those who usually follow her faith. I suppose we'll see..."

Spoiler

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Knowledge (Religion) check to identify Nephia's holy symbol of Elhonna: 1d20+4=13
I assume identifying the holy symbol of one of the major deities, (especially one that Rasphiak would have more reason to know about) would be DC 10. If not, I'll edit.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Mika Anova

Mika watches Rasphiak prowl around them with a curious expression that soon takes on a hint of being creeped out. "Yes, well, I've been down here more than a few months, and ain't been ta meet my maker yet. And I know where we're going. So if'n you're ready, we can get going."

[wxdruid]

As the group stands outside of the Dripstone Inn, several people/creatures walk in and out of the Inn. Some stare rudely at the group, others ignore them completely.

[tonberryking]

Nephia

Once again, her helmet slips a little over her brow, but that's about all the ground given by the Elhonna cleric,"Hope you're not as stupid as most buffoons who usually turn out to be complete blowhards when they poke fun at the new color."

This is said about as nice and pleasantly as some maid asking if the crew wanted to by her bassinet of mixed flowers. Nephia falls in with the crew eager to leave with the current company. Except maybe the warlock...

[AmberVael]

Rasphiak

Rasphiak snickers quietly at Nephia, seeming strangely satisfied with her response. Grinning wolfishly, he watches her a little longer before turning to Mika and speaking in a low almost ominous voice.
"Lead the way."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Mika Anova

Mika shrugs again and leads the group along down the various roads, keeping to the safer parts of town whenever possible, approaching a tannery on Matron Road. "Where you all planning on heading after you finish your business down here?" she asks, making conversation.

[wxdruid]

As the group approaches the tannery, the faint odor of urine and feces blends to create a stomach churning aroma around this run-down, single-story structure of limestone and granite. Gaining entry should be easy through the yawning doorway.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Mika Anova

Mika leads the group inside and into the back pressing her hand on a stain against one wall.

[wxdruid]

A stronger stink fills this wide chamber. Yellow-green luminescence clings to every surface, outlining dozens of wide clay vats that cover large portions of the floor. Dilapidated tables along the walls are stained with the outlines of stretched hides, some humanoid in shape. On the southern wall is a glowing green stain in the shape of a three-fingered hand. Mika can't quite reach the mark because sitting beneath the stain, its back supported by the wall, is a humanoid figure whose identity is lost in filthy rags.

[AmberVael]

Rasphiak

The warlock snarls quietly, hating the smell, the hides, the strange light... his shoulders hunch defensively and he looks around, his eyes eventually focusing on the rag covered man. Fingers twitching convulsively, Rasphiak restrains his urge to either run or attack, trying to figure out what was going on.

[Sophistemon]

Regak looks around, his large and bushy-haired head swiveling on his thick, bullish neck. His nose crinkles, putting a dent in his mustache, and he narrows his eyes.

"I've smelled worse," he says, though the connected story doesn't follow.

Right, then. Rotting hides, the stench of various bodily evacuations, a glowing green hand-print and... oh, what's this, then?

Regak eyes the rag-cloaked finger trepidation, and then steps forward, searching for signs of life.

"Oy, there, you living?"

[wxdruid]

Crazed eyes open and stare at Regak. He jumps to his feet, forcing Regak and Mika to hurriedly step back. He yells in undercommon and Regak understands him, but to everyone else his raving sounds like gibberish. He wildly waves his hands and the rags fall back to show a pocked face and wild expression.

[Sophistemon]

Regak steps back, along with Mika, and his eyes widen as his mind instinctively translates the gibberish into something that makes sense. He throws a hand out to the side in a gesture that should mean, to his companions, 'wait'. Regak responds to the Rag-Man, speaking slowly and calmly, in Undercommon:

"A prophet? Are you a good one?"

He means no offense but, really, what kind of prophet dresses in rags and lives in the bowels of a dilapidated tannery? Among dwarves, those gifted with the Sight are nearly royalty, their skills put to work in finding new veins of valuable ore. Regak glances at his companions and speaks in Common.

"His name is Numa, and he claims to be a prophet."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Mika Anova

Mika hisses as the 'prophet' uncovers his face, and takes several steps backwards. As she does so, she makes a superstitious warding gesture common to sailors. "Plague," she mutters.

[wxdruid]

He staggers forward (not towards anyone in particular) as he wildly gesticulates with his hands. His voice rises as he continues to speak in undercommon.

[Sophistemon]

Regak takes another hasty step backwards as Numa advances.

"What is?" he asks, in undercommon. "What's rising?"

He makes note of what he's been told, filing it away in his mind as something very important. He will tell his compatriots later.

Spoiler

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"See there? It punches up from the deep core to the sunburned surface, rising higher and higher, until it is lost in the white mists that shroud the top of the world!"

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Mika

"Don't let him touch you," the girl cautions. "He's got the plague."

[wxdruid]

The self proclaimed prophet walks into the space between them, his hands reaching out and plucking at imaginary items in thin air. He turns and mutters to Regak in undercommon.

[Sophistemon]

Regak nods, confused, as he translates what has been said for his compatriots.

"Right, bugs, yes," he replies, in undercommon.

He's beginning to grow impatient.

"But what about what you were saying earlier? About something rising?"

[wxdruid]

He walks past Regak, suddenly he turns and shouts more incomprehensible words. He glares at the ceiling before he turns and shambles out of the building. Leaving the party to themselves.

[AmberVael]

Rasphiak

The warlock's shoulders slowly relax as he loses sight of the strange man, but his eyes remain narrow, and it is clear that he was made very uncomfortable about the encounter. He looks down at Regak, his words coming out in a snarling hiss.

"What was the pariah saying?"

Interesting choice of words, but it definitely fits with his mentality. Someone so diseased and obviously weakened in mind and body is not fit to be part of any strong pack or group.