[User]
 The town of Ravengro looms before you as you make your way down the winding, leaf choked roadway. The loud complaining cawing of crows, with the rustle of dead leaves blowing in the wind fills your ears. Ravengro seems little more than a somber farming villiage, simple one and two storey buildings dot the countryside accompanied with a dozen or so tilled fields and a somewhat large cemetary, which seems far too large for a town so small. You see very few townsfolk as you make your way to Lorrimor's address, which is supplied with the note you received about the professor's passing, but those you do see are grim and scowl at you before disappearing inside their homes.

Finally you come upon the Lorrimor estate. It is a modest abode, standing two stories tall, and of better make then most of the homes in Ravengro but by no means the most opulent. As you knock upon the door a portly moustached man answers. "Hello there, you must the ones Kendra is expecting, please do come in," he says in a friendly enough tone before ushering you into the parlor. Once inside you see a trim and attractive young woman, her eyes are red and puffy and she wears dark colored conservative clothes. As she notices you she flashes you all a strained smile before speaking.

"Hello, I am Kendra, Kendra Lorrimor. I take it that you are Avita, Liliana, Bartholomew, and Claire, the ones m-my father had me send for? I'm glad that you all could make it here, and you're just on time." She seems like she is trying to be poilte in her greeting but you can easily see she is overcome with grief. "This is Zokar, the local tavernkeeper and a friend of the family, his son, and the others who are attending the funeral are awaiting us at The Restlands. I am sorry to ask this after your journey, as you no doubt would like to rest but can you come with us? The funeral will start momentarily..."

 Spoiler: Kendra Lorrimor

[User] Claire nods solemnly as she follows the Innkeeper to meet Kendra. When she sees how sad the professor's daughter is, Claire quickly moves to comfort her, even as she says, "Of course. I wouldn't miss the Professor's funeral for anything."

[User]
 Bart wears a solemn expression as he stammers an attempt at comforting words.  Unless you watch very closely.  Then you might notice that Bart's solemnity breaks for a split second, replaced by a brief look of rage before returning to a somber countenance.

 "Of course, Lady.  The professor deserves no less from his friends."

[User]
 Lily inclines her head respectfully to the man.
" Thank you, kind sir. " Upon entering the residence, Lily reaches into a pocket and pulls out her well worn cards and selects one facedown at random as sue follows the others into the parlor and begins muttering to herself.
"  What have you brought me this time? The Tumpet. Decisive action? At a funeral? No, can't be that. Pursuit of just causes? Hmm. Perhaps a reading of the late Professor? Could be. He recklessly confronted that crowd when we met. Maybe a reading of the past—  "
Her mutterings cease at once upon seeing the woman, and hastily stows away her cards. She bows slightly as she says, " My condolences on your loss, my Lady Lorrimor. Though Master Lorrimor is in the care of Pharasma, the world is a lesser place without him. Were the circumstances less tragic, it would be a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Liliana Silverglen. "

[User]
 Inquisitor Avita Westermont

It was fortunate, she thought, that she had decided to wear her full vestments for the last portion of her journey, it would have been unpleasant to attend Professor Lorrimor's funeral in her travelling clothes. But as she had travelled by carriage, and the last portion of the way was only five hours long, there had been no need for that.

Instead, Inquisitor Westermont wore her ornate silver breastplate over clean white clerical robes and a scarlet stole embroidered with Iomedae's symbol at its tips, as was only proper when attending a funeral.

With the keen eye of an inquisitor, she had inconspicuously inspected her fellow travellers, as they had approached Lorrimor's domicile.
The man seemed rather unremarkable, except for the white streak in his hair. Either a sign of bad fashion sense or a sign of severe past trauma. A warrior, apparantly, judging from the ornate bastard sword on his back.
Then there was a woman, in a long, well-worn coat, wearing an eyepatch. A Varisian? The way she handled her harrowing cards suggested that assumption, but she seemed too pale.
The other woman carried one of those new-fangled weapons, a musket. She seemed hardened, and very serious; so more likely a veteran, than a wannabe.

Avita's disconcerting bright blue eyes fell upon the moustached man as he opened the door, then, after she had answered his words with a curt, but not unfriendly nod, upon Kendra herself, Professor Lorrimor's daughter.
She was obviously grieving, and in an honest way - the relationship between father and daughter had been a good one, it seemed.

 "You are correct, Lady Kendra."  she finally spoke, her voice solemn and dignified.
 "I am Inquisitor Avita Westermont. Petros was a close friend. Him and you are in my thoughts and prayers."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the man's short flash of fury, replacing his otherwise solemn countenance. Avita showed no reaction, but it seemed curious to her. Had the man some unspoken grievance against Lorrimor or his daughter? If so, why had he been invited? Or was someone else the target of his suppressed rage?

 Spoiler: Roll to notice Bart's raging quirk ;)

 (1d20+11)[ 24 ]


[User]
 The Last City
   Prologue

Silverthal - a city of nearly a million people, crammed to the gills. Outside its walls, monsters roam and terrible magics ravage the countryside. The city's very existence is precarious - if the walls should fall, or the Council die, or the Devices that keep food coming and water flowing and things moving were to cease, it would all come tumbling down. Almost everyone, though, carries on blithely. If they're not soldiers and they're not mages, they have barely a care in the world. Sure, occasionally they're told to hide in the middle of the day, or someone loses a family member from the walls, but, for the most part, and to most people, there seems to be no cause for worry.

Except to you.

Instead, you see the needless deaths of soldiers. You see the needless imprisonment of a million people. You see the freedom with which the city's most powerful mages act. And, most of all, you see imbalance everywhere. The rightful order of the world has been upended, and it's up to you to fix it.

The five of you meet in the Church's unknown (except to you and a select few) headquarters, to discuss the most recent atrocity and how the Church can go about righting it.

One of the Council's members, a powerful wizard by the name of Vach, was, until recently, under investigation for the murder of a little girl. However, he was pulled away to the Wall as a commander after a particularly brutal attack, and replaced on the Council. As quickly as the situation flaired, it subsided as he was removed from public view. However, you have not forgotten.

[User]
 Scene 1: The Hidden House

The five of you make your way, one at a time, to the basement of the House. The House is so old that it doesn't have a name, and so few use it that a name would be pointless, anyway, so - the House. It is the site of a very old, very powerful, and, to all but you, very forgotten magic. It cannot be found. Magic slides off of it, thieves' eyes pass over it, and those who try to follow you there find themselves mysteriously lost.

The basement of the House is exactly what you would  not  expect from the basement of a cult's lair to look like. It is warm and spacious; well lit, and filled with comfortable furniture. Various maps hang from the walls, and a pleasant fire is already crackling when you arrive.

[User]
 Elise speaks up, her soft voice neutral,  "Hm. At odds with my expectations. I suppose I should not be surprised. We are well funded?"

Her amber eyes sweep over her company, somehow finding a way to bore inquisitively into each of their gazes for a split moment before passing them to the next.  "I am sure this is not a company of mutes. Perhaps if I make my introductions? I am Elise Basced, daughter of Myra Basced, from outside the walls."

[User]
 Bondo Lets out and laugh as he slowly rises from his seat, supporting himself upon his cane   "A Company of Mutes? No, apparently a company of mutes and children who remain in there room dreaming of plans instead of acting.  Bondo shakes his head and chuckles again as he walks to the table

  "I am Bondo, son of Jagron. I am happy to make your aquatints Miss Elise


[User]
 You were all whisked away as soon as you arrived at the conference. A great gathering of legendary artisans and craftsmen, as well as the truly powerful whom stand to lose a great deal if the current structure of trade and political dealings is overthrown. You have all gathered for your own reasons, but for the most part, those at this conference have gathered because of one thing. Titans.

These hulking monstrosities have been materializing randomly onto the material plane and clashing with each other in weeks long death matches. The scars they left on the land did not distinguish them from other threats until several of them materialized near Trabadon, the city of smiths. Three titans converged on the city and completely annihilated it in their stuggle to destroy each other. This caused the loss of several major artifacts, as well as the destruction of numerous mundane wealth and the worlds largest cache of magical treasures and materials.

Disruptions of trade routes and destruction of natural resources have caused many of you to loose a great deal in wealth and infrastructure. It was thought that the adventuring parties would deal with it, but while the bloodthirsty kleptomaniacs had managed to slay countless demons and mythical beasts, only the smallest of titans were within their ability to handle.

The last straw was the recent ingress of a creature only known as the Mountain. A creature so massive that it can crush a castle under a single foot like a giant stepping on an ant. A creature that causes massive devastation any time it wakes up to move, it heralds a power so far beyond anything that has been dealt with in any of your lifetimes.

You are all ushered into a large conference room. There is a stage at the head of the room. There are several immediately recognizable entities standing on the stage, the leaders of the conference and the ones who brought you all together. At the fore of the group stands a gender neutral being with a blank white mask that appears to be porcelain, dressed in the attire of a rich man's personal servant. While none know his identity, it matters not. His mask and attire mark him as the current Voice of the Guild. A headless organization that has it's hands in almost all trades, the Guild provides impartial "Judges" who will enforce to the letter agreements between parties. Should a deal be overseen by a Guild Judge, you know that the parties will be held to their terms; alternatively, they will die.

Standing slightly behind the Voice and to the left is a stunning woman, all dressed in form fitting leather. One of the most sensual creatures you have ever seen, her skin is white as china. She has waist length ink black hair that she has braided intricately. Her eyes are like bright flecks of jade, green and piercing. She is the Trick, mistress of seduction and Queen of the Harlots. Hers is the oldest trade in the planes and she owns and operates the majority of legal and illegal sex trafficking groups. She has a deadpan look an her face as she surveys the crowd.

Standing oddly off to the side is a dirty robed and cowled man, burn marks streaking his cloak are ignored as if they don't matter. He appears to be absorbed in some sort of object he holds, which he is poking and probing with a shining silvery scalpel. When he stops for a moment and looks around at a loud noise his appearance under his hood gives away his identity. His skin is a patchwork of different materials, metals leathers, cloths and many other things make up a haggard and driven face, marked by two eyes that are the only remaining part of him that is his own visible flesh. This is the Alchemist, a being who creatures abominations so foul that they surprise those who know that he also creates some of the most beautifully designed works of art in the planes. A creature who cares only about experimentation, he is widely considered mad, though his work is a constant source of trade as they are all highly sought after.

The final being on the stage is somewhat of a surprise. A woman dressed in ragged clothing stands in the back leaning against the wall. Her appearance is nothing special, she is neither attractive nor ugly. The only thing that sets her apart visually are the oddly rich instruments that she carries. They are in stark contrast to the rest of her dull appearance, but when in boredom she plays a few notes on a flute everyone knows who she is. Theresa the Songstress is known across all the land for the fact that she plays music so beautiful that devils and angels alike have courted her to join them.Her only devotion isto her musichoweverandthe ability to spread joy amongst the common folk by wandering from town to town, playing her music to pay for her room and board.

After several minutes, there are about 60 of you gathered in the room. The doors are shut and the Voice addresses you.  We have called you all here today because we all have a common interest in the continued existence of the status quo of our world as it exists now. We all profit in one way or another as long as the world keeps from falling apart. We are experiencing a disruption of our ability to maintain each of our operations due to a seemingly unstoppable force that cannot be reasoned with. All attempts so far to communicate or coerce the aptly named Titans has failed. We call you here not to solve this problem, such is not in our grasp, at least not yet. No we call you here to guard this land and contain the impact these beings have. While you do so, the four of us upon this stage will probe the depths of the law-aligned planes. We have received information indicating information on these beings may be found there. If we cannot unite against this growing threat, we will all lose everything we have. Now, what say each of you. Will you stand with us?

[User]
 El reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a mask that looked much like a golden fox, and placed it over a mask he already wore; a mask that looked much like a one-eye smiling face. When he moved his hand away, he was holding a third, different mask. He tucked it away into his clothes quickly though.

  You know none of us would be so foolish as to not protect our world. Can't turn a profit, if all your merchandise is ruined, all your clients dead and the land all messed up. So, anyone here who doesn't vow to use all their resources to end this plague, why, anyone like that just doesn't care about their goods enough.   El adjusted his hood, keeping his features hidden. Despite being exactly 4 feet tall, El still believed he could remain incognito.   But as far as solutions go, someone suggested to me before that perhaps we move everything we can up into the sky. Or into other planes. Just temporarily of course. Or deep, deep underground. How dangerous are the lolth worshipers, the aberrations or the other lurkers in the dark, when compared to the raw destructive power of those titans? Send the adventurers out to clear out the underground. The dwarves seemed to like it down there well enough. Gnomes too. Seems like between the sky, the deep underground and another plane we should be able to stow some, if not most of our more valuable objects. Well, that's what someone told me at any rate. I don't know much myself.

 Spoiler: Actions
Switch out Kamaro's mask for the Keaton mask.

Bardic Knowledge on all 4 people.
Voice:  (1d20+27)[ 40 ]
Sexy Lady:  (1d20+27)[ 29 ]
Maker:  (1d20+27)[ 47 ]
Little Miss Nobody:  (1d20+27)[ 28 ]

Also, disguise check to look like I'm somebody else.  (d20+31)[ 43 ]  Maybe a Gnome? Yes, a gnome.

[User]
 The lady although beautiful, kept her face covered by a white cloth held by a golden buckle and her entirety bleaches white except for her amber eyes, standing beside a lawful woman whose job is to transport things around. She is in disguise as an Arabic-esque woman to lessen her influential presence and charisma. Yet, her outline is not what it seems. The disguise is just a contingency if people see through her majestic image of an unfathomable emissary of an Arabian beauty that her magic had laid for the eyes of the crowd. Her eyes widens, upon seeing another potential rival in the conference room but cut short as the Voice addresses them. She nods solemnly at the impish man, already understanding the extend of the havoc. She manipulates her vocalization to sound foreign like her chosen cover, sounding if someone's grumbling.

  Yes, yes. You have my support, sadiqi. But...Damage prevention, how? We have many arsenals that are spanning. We will be destroying more land to deal with those gargantuan. Arrival time, when? How long do we have to prepare? We need time to move our goods as far or away as possible. Stalling time, how much? We need estimate as to how long your search will take. The titans can wipe out an area in seconds. If you are taking to long, you surely have no time.

At that point, she feels her throat tightening and settles on a nearby chair motioning for a glass of water from her butler, also disguised as an associate in flavourful middle eastern style. She needs to see whether she knows who she's talking to.

 Spoiler: Rolls

Bardic Knowledge
Mr Holier than Thou aka Voice -  (1d20+22)[ 37 ]
Potential Rival Musician -  (1d20+22)[ 41 ]
Cackling Mad Scientist -  (1d20+22)[ 24 ]
Prostitute -  (1d20+22)[ 28 ]

Acting In Character -  (1d20+46)[ 58 ]
Permanent Image

[User]
 Alexander sits- no, lounges- at a table, dressed in a brilliant gold suit that would be ostentatious if it weren't so damn good looking. He holds up a golden glass full of some strange liquid, swirling it around without drinking it. Flecks of gold dust swirl around him, coating the floor in a glimmering shroud.

 "Last year, a two hundred foot long flying creature was spotted six hundred miles out from the city. It is unknown whether it was a titan, but at this point I wouldn't gamble my safety on being able to outreach the titans- besides, the sky is lousy with dragons this time of year."  At this last remark, Alexander gives a grinning nod of his head to a stunningly attractive woman with bright silver hair.

 Likewise, when the mountain puts its foot down, it leaves a crater half a mile wide and hundreds of feet deep. The halls of the dwarves go miles below the surface, but they have been digging for thousands of years. Now, as a long-term strategy, those are sound suggestions. But right now, we need to disable a large percentage of the titans."

As he speaks, Alexander scribbles a note on a piece of paper, handing it off to a page without looking at it.  "Those things die. Spears and arrows hurt them. Spells burn them. If those of us here devote just a few days of our time or a bit of our profits to halting the titans, we can easily eliminate the worst of the danger."

 Spoiler: For the DM
The note, addressed to the Alchemist, reads  "Give the Formians hell and I'll turn one of your golems into pure gold. What do you say?"

[User] El nodded to Alexander.   Of course, I recognize that as wisdom. But your dragon comment reminds me, we need to look into getting Bahamut's children to work with us. I've heard several flights have worked together to attack the titans, and they would be valuable assets for our efforts. I know someone, who knows someone who is owed a favor or two by a couple of these flights. It's been said before, but I think we might look into a way to lead the titans. If we could lead them to someplace, I don't know where, maybe a desert wasteland, they will fight each other. Then we lead another there. I've heard it said that these things destroy each other much better than we can.

[User]
 Alexander gives a manic grin and pantomimes peering around the room.  "Sure! Who here wants to volunteer as bait?"

More seriously, he continues,  "That is definitely a possibility we should consider. I certainly have the  capital  to hire a couple iron dragons, although it pains me to pay a couple hundreds thousand gold for two mercenaries. But I like the idea of moving the conflict as far as possible from any populated area."

Alexander leans back in his chair, resting one leg atop the other. The floor under his boots slowly begins changing color, becoming metallic and yellowed.

[User]
 Standing quietly against the edge of the room, her assistant by her side, The Night With No Stars looks out over the assembly, memorizing faces, or at least disguises.  Her little empire was highly mobile, and so far had been able to avoid direct damage from the titans.  Her markets, however, had suffered.  Entire nations wiped off maps.  Hundreds of buyers gone.  The slowdown was painful, wallet wise.  But she could still get things places.  Maybe that could be a solution.

 "Perhaps we could lure or move them somewhere they can't survive?  These great things all seem to prefer the material plane.  While some of these things are large beyond reason, some may be dropped into other planes with relative ease.  Would this be possible?  Would there be a way to gather more information about them?"


[User]
 The city of Ijzerpoort was not a great place to be. Nominally, it was the centre of the imperial army, and the majority of the empire's trade took place there. None who lived there could have believed, however, the blatant lies that everything was under the control of the empire. Would that that were so, it would not be the case that fully one fifth of the ships that entered and left port were officially never meant to have been there in the first place.

Nor would there be the Undercity, where the real ruling takes place. The imperials attempt to exert as much de jure control as they can over the city, but the de facto rulers of Ijzerpoort are murderers and thieves. The iron empire is fighting a losing battle, and knows it.

Four heroes sit in the Undercity, waiting. After several "Successful" missions - involving a lot of faking and dodging, and some imperials going into hiding and pretending to be dead - they have been told that they are going to be meeting with a fairly important person, though they currently know not whom. Of course, being as this person is a fairly important Undercitizen, they probably want to be making sure that their mission does not succeed.

Well, unless they really hate the imperials.

[User] Chak sits waiting, fully armored, with his tower shield in one hand, two more on his shotgun, and his fourth around a flask he sips from.

[User]
 Kasier in a black coat and sliver headband sits back in his chair and glances around at the people in the tavern and ask out loud   anyone want to play a game of cards   and makes a perception check to see if he notices anything strange

 Spoiler: roll
 (1d20+8)[ 15 ]

[User]
 Kaiser notices a heavily armored four armed bug-man with a shotgun sitting across from him. That counts as strange, right?
 Fun or coin?
The voice is clicky.

[User]
 Kasier smirks  for fun i don't want to make the bartender lose any money just yet

(also the check was for anything strange going on in the tavern my char was essentially a bodyguard for the whores when they went out of town and it became a habit that i want to play out )

[User]
 Deal me in then.
Chak replaces his flask at his side.

 Spoiler
I figured it was something like that. I tend towards the sarcastic.

[User]
 Kasier pulls out a deck of cards and starts shuffling   the name of the game is black jack. the point of the game is to get as close to 21 as possible with out going over oh and before i forget a 21 is an instant win while anything over is an instant lost.

(the way my group usually does this is roll a d20 and ignore anything over 11)

[User]
 Sounds simple.

 Spoiler: OoC
But then how do I count cards? 😛

[User]
 Spoiler: ooc
 we would use your sleight of hand vs perception plus what ever dc the dm made with added affects for drinking or how long the game was going on and other distractions had to make it a bit complex since we had a rouge who liked to gamble.

[User]
 ill go first since i asked

 Spoiler: blackjack roll

 (1d20)[ 3 ]
 (1d20)[ 16 ]
 (1d20)[ 7 ]
 (1d20)[ 13 ]
 (1d20)[ 16 ]

ignore the other 4

 well i stareted off low this time wonder if this a sign of some sort

[User]
 A lone woman sits in the corner concealed within the shadows cast by the oil burning lamps, quiet and foreboding. Her face is hidden but strands of her copper mane catch the odd beam of light and glow like soft fire, she is not trying to be rude or standoffish just absorbing the atmosphere of the room and contemplating the resulting data. She notices the odd being with four arms conversing with the seedy gambler but makes no move to join their game only sits from a distance watching.   I sacrificed so much to be here and yet I am bound by years of habit... My fall from grace, was it truly worth it?

Snapping out of her self reflection she continues observing the pair from the back of the room, content to remain passive for the time being.

[User] ohh how could i forget i never introduced myself Morg would set me ablaze if she ever found out. the names Kasier and you are?

[User]
 The room starts to clear, and you soon see why - two of the most famous Undercitizens in existence have just walked in. Old Spinner, the leader of the assassins, and Anna, one of their most competent members, walk towards you without any attempt at stealth, though you know that either could have jumped in, unnoticed.

Spinner walks up to you, while Anna hangs a few feet back.

  "We have a new target for you,"   he says calmly, as though he had already greeted you and you him, and he had not in fact walked into your conversation.   "Sergeant Jonah Cyrus of the 12th company. He can be found in room one hundred fifty seven of the iron keep. I'll send an extra along to make sure the job's done - no offense to you all, but I trust Anna, and this is important.

That aside, you should find yourselves in possession of one thousand gold pieces each, as well as anything you liberate from him and his guards. Feel free to kill any guards who get in your way - the empire will know it was us anyway; it's Jonah.

If you've no questions, I advise you to get started."

Anna just stands in place, her expression neutral.

 Spoiler: OOC
Three of you have posted; let's get this going.

Feel free to take any skill checks you think relevant - Spot, SM, K (L), or whatever.

[User]
 Magdelena frowns at the order, she doesn't wantonly eradicate people without question or without even greater necessity. She calmly observes 'Spinner' and the babysitter he thought proper to assign to them, a quite unpleasant notion to think upon. She makes no move to respond just remains silent, carefully analyzing the situation before speaking.

 Spoiler: Skill checks
Perception  (1d20+11)[ 17 ]
Sense Motive  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]
Well that's certainly a lackluster start to the game... average rolls: 3.5 lol

[User]
 Chak does likewise, glad that humans are so terrible at reading the social cues his people would have read as extreme distaste..

 Spoiler: OoC
Yeah, Chak does not like the sound of that at all. And I don't even know details about these people yet.
Knowledge (Local) on Spinner :  (1d20+6)[ 9 ]
Knowledge (Local) on Anna : (1d20+6)[ 9 ]
Knowledge (Local) on Jonah Cyrus :  (1d20+6)[ 8 ]
Knowledge (Local) on anything else applicable :  (1d20+6)[ 11 ]
Sense Motive :  (1d20+2)[ 17 ]
Perception :  (1d20+9)[ 22 ]
Stealth (for pure laughs, not actually hiding) :  (1d20-8)[ 4 ]

[User]
 kasier takes a sip of his ale and unties his silver headband and reveals a bright green third eye  well that's a doozy of a request there. what the poor serg do to get a hit put on him and how much guards are we supposed to expect. you can't expect a man to go in with only half the details and do you have anybody on the inside i need to know if this will be a quick and clean job or a big and messy one

 Spoiler: Ooc
perception   (1d20+8)[ 15 ]
sense motive  (1d20+7)[ 16 ]


[User]
 Your mission was simple, have the The Clan's Chief Wizard send your squad to gather information about the long lost Shrine to Torag.  He had a spell that would get you there and back.  Well, half the spell worked.  Looks like you will have to try and find your way back through the ancient tunnels of the Undermountain.  The only thing you know about your current predicament is that your are thousands of feet below your home city and that their are hordes of vile and dangerous creatures between you and your home.

You are all in the Shrine Room to Torag.  Supposedly this Shrine has some special abilities that have untold benefits to your Clan.  Unfortunately, none of you know what that might be or how it might be used.  The ceilings are 20ft tall, and there are several half-walls that are 10ft tall, and 5ft wide made of pure granite.  There is the Massive Shrine to Torag.  Aside from you four, the only other thing in the room appears to be a heavy 10ft by 20ft Adamantine door.  It is braced by large adamantine beams.  Your group would be able to open it without to much difficulty.  The only question is, what is one the other side of the door.

Strength Check, DC 12 to move the brace to open the door.
May add up to one Aid another.

 Dwarf Fortress -Tactical Map   (Yes, one square equals 5ft.)

Please let me know where you are on the map each round.

[User]
 "Well it looks like we're really in it now!"  Rogar says gruffly, offering a small mug of brew to anyone who wants one, before heading over to the shrine to really check it out better.  "Think he can watch over my keg while we're looking for our way out? I still can't believe they let me come down here with this thing. T'was half a joke afterall, but I'm glad I have it now."

He deposits the 50 gallon keg of his own ale for mighty Torag to watch over.

[User] I say we can search this room later, it will be more important to open this door.  Logar says as he walks up to the door to size up the braces. He'll be standing at S10.   If you want some time, I can wait, but I think we should get going soon.

[User]
 Holst gets his bow ready to fire and motions for Bahraskarn to get ready.

 "If you want to open that door, I'll keep you covered."

 Spoiler
Standing at O 10.  Bear is just in front of Holst.

[User]
 Prydwen looks around the room in awe. The frail looking dwarf wears no armor, and it's obvious

 It appears Rogar is at it again. Can't leave home without his brew... Well, at least we'll be properly hydrated.  He grins.

 "Best someone listen at the door before we open it. If there's trouble coming, I like to be prepared."

"Rogar, mind if I use your keg to climb on one of these small wals here? I'm not to fond to get close to trouble."

He climbs to Q14.

 Spoiler: undefined
Climb keg DC5?   (1d20-1)[ 4 ]
Climb wall DC5?  (1d20-1)[ 8 ]

[User]
 "Sure, she be built of a higher quality too. She can take your weight. Now lets see about this door.."  he goes over and listens closely at it before taking a few attempts to get a comfortable grip on it somewhere.

 Spoiler
Landing at S11

Perception  (1d20+7)[ 11 ]
And aid another to open the door  (1d20+2)[ 16 ]

[User]
 With everything in place, it is time for things to get real.  Everyone listens... and listens... and listens.  Nothing is heard on the other side of the door.  The bar form the door is lifted, though just barely.  All that is left to do is pull the door open.

The door opens to the inside so you will have to move back to let it open.  5ft steps back will suffice for both Logar and Rogar.

Updated  Combat Map .

[User]
 Logar steps back to R10 as he opens the door.

 Spoiler: strength check

 (1d20+3)[ 5 ]  strength check for unbarring/opening door. Edit. of course.... maybe its better/possible to just take 10 on it? haha..

[User]
 The door opens and...

Nothing happens.

That's right.  Nothing happens.  The door opens, and you see an unfinished tunnel that leads into the darkness.  It is a cave.  The ceilings are 10ft high.  There are several rocks that are about 5ft tall in the cavern.  There is a double wooden door to the East and a single wooden door to the South.

Please list your marching formation.   Combat Map.

[User] Logar will take the lead.

[User]
 Prydwen sighs in relief as he hears there is nothing to worry about. He climbs down and files in the marching order, before the last dwarf.

 "We certainly are lucky. Would you mind blocking the still closed door with the bar? Just in case."

[User] Move that heavy thing back in place? If anything it looks like this is not an important part of our fort for 'them' to use, I think we will be safe for now.

[User]
 Drantil runs up.
 Wait for me! They thought they could stop me from coming, but I'm here to help!
He grins, then remembers and tries to look surly.
 Well, let me to the front! Whole thing could be trapped!

[User] Sounds fine to me, I'll be near by in case anything comes at us.

[User]
 Spoiler
OOC: Please Post where you move to and all of that.

[User] Rogar goes last, casting a last glance at his ale before closing the door behind him, and lifting his shield to guard the flank of the march.

[User]
 Without warning, sneaky drow begin filling the room.  They are speaking a harsh and guttural language (Undercommon) as the female in the back yells orders at each of them.  They take defensive positions and begin letting spells fly.  Handbow bolts and spells fly from both the east and the south.  Being the most visible, Drantil and Logar are taking the brunt of the ranged assault.

Roll Initiative.  Everyone post actions when you can.  If you have a higher Initiative, you actions come in front of the others.  You can potentially invalidate my actions, but I will alter them on my next post.  Do not worry about posting in order.  I will resolve everything at the beginning of next post and start the following round with the rest of that post.

Initiative:
 (1d20+2)[ 17 ]  Fires a Handcrowsbow at Drantil.  Attack:  (1d20+3)[ 16 ]  Damage: 1d4[/roll] DC 13 Fort Save vs. Drow Poison.  Failure equals Unconscious for 1 Minutes
 (1d20+2)[ 13 ]  Fires a Handcrowsbow at Logar.  Attack:  (1d20+3)[ 11 ]  Damage: 1d4[/roll] DC 13 Fort Save vs. Drow Poison.  Failure equals Unconscious for 1 Minutes
 (1d20+2)[ 12 ]  Fires a Handcrowsbow at Logar.  Attack:  (1d20+3)[ 21 ]  Damage: 1d4[/roll] DC 13 Fort Save vs. Drow Poison.  Failure equals Unconscious for 1 Minutes
 (1d20+2)[ 6 ]  Casts a spell that targets Drantil.  Spellcraft DC 11 for:
 Spoiler
Magic Missle does  (1d4+1)[ 5 ]  for damage  Spell Resistance to Negate.

 (1d20+2)[ 7 ]  Casts a spell that targets Logar.  Spellcraft DC 11 for:
 Spoiler
Magic Missle does  (1d4+1)[ 3 ]  for damage  Spell Resistance to Negate.

 (1d20+3)[ 22 ]  Casts a spell that targets Logar.  Spellcraft DC 12 for:
 Spoiler
Hold Person DC 15 Will or be paralyzed for 3 rounds.

[User]
 The bolt thunks into Drantil's shoulder, and he feels very weary suddenly. But he shakes it off and charges, pulling out his urgosh and slashing downwards at the nearest drow.

 Spoiler: OoC
Charge to either Z11 or AA11 (depending on your view of attacking around corners) and attack the drow at AA12
Attack:  (1d20+7)[ 18 ]
Critical Confirmation:  (1d20+7)[ 21 ]
Damage:  (1d8+4)[ 8 ]
Critical Damage:  (2d8+8)[ 16 ]

[User]
 Spoiler
hold on. I messed up. Fixing, but it's slow on a phone.

Rogar charges furiously at the Drow standing closest to him, leaping over rocks to slam his head into the foul creature.

He yells in a strange tongue:

 Spoiler: Terran
 "Oy who be ya thinkin' we ahr laddies? Tis not but the death o' yeh at me Melvyn's tip!"

[User]
 Upon noticing the drow, Prydwen's eyes open wide with terror.

" Back to the ....." , he halts halfway through his scream as the forward members of the team charge into the enemies.

 "Put pressure on their casters!"

He then proceeds to cast Grease on AD7/AE8, after which he steps to Z7

 Spoiler
Grease DC 15 on two Melee, Arcane and Cleric.

[User]
 Initiative  (1d20+1)[ 11 ]

 Spoiler
AngryCyc mentioned a possible misfurtune thing for that one crossbow that hit me at 21, Fort save in case I still need to make it. (1d20+5)[ 10 ]

Will save  (1d20+3)[ 23 ]

If Logar can, he will move up to AC-8, and attack the Drow at AD-8 with his longsword.

Attack, (1d20+4)[ 21 ] , Damage  (1d8+3)[ 11 ]

[User]
 Spoiler: Iniative
 (1d20+2)[ 10 ]

 Spoiler: Actions
Swift action: activating Animal Focus: Tiger on self, and Animal Focus: Bull on Bahraskarn.

Bow attack against Drow Cleric:  (1d20+3)[ 10 ]

Damage  (1d8)[ 1 ]

[User]
 The misfortune causes the attack from the drows bolt to miss wide.

Pryweden's Grease spell drops all but the cleric.

The Cleric's spell was ineffective.

All in all, the round was a win for the Dwarves.

The Dwarves respond with a vicious counterattack that sees three of the Drow killed.

The Cleric remains unscathed save the grease.  She responds yelling to the other two in Undercommon,
 Spoiler
"Retreat and alert the others, we will return and crush them with superior forces!"

One of the casters stays in place to make certain his matron gets away safely.  He fires a magic missile at Logar.   (1d4+1)[ 3 ]

The Cleric and the other Drow run to opposite doors and begin opening them.  If they are not stopped they may summon reinforcements.

 Tactical Map

[User]
 Drantil huffs as he runs over the dead drow in front of him, down the hallway and after the mage.

 Spoiler: OoC
Double Move to X16

[User]
 "Don't let them get away!! And if they do, we should retreat...."

He then shoots a magical missile at the runaway cleric. It flies and strikes unerrorly. Somehow, the force of it seems to have more push to it then normally.

 Spoiler
Toppling magic missile  (1d4+1)[ 3 ]
Trip attempt  (1d20+5)[ 17 ]  vs CMD

[User]
 Rogar takes a 5 ft step forward before attempting to headbutt the drow squarely in the forehead with his helmet.

 Spoiler

Attack  (1d20+2)[ 12 ]
Confirm  (1d20+2)[ 18 ]
Damage  (1d4+2)[ 6 ]
Crit  (1d4+2)[ 6 ]

[User]
 You're gonna regret that spell, you scum  logar says to the drow as he steps to AD-7 or AD-8(depending on rogar) and attacks it with his Longsword.

Attack (1d20+4)[ 13 ]
Damage  (1d8+3)[ 7 ]

[User]
 "Lay into the scum!"  shouts Holst as he fires another arrow at the cleric.

 Spoiler: Actions
5-foot step to Y7

Attack:  (1d20+2)[ 5 ]  at Drow Matron

Damage:  (1d8)[ 5 ]

Bear will move to AA10 and attack Drow

Bite attack:  (1d20+4)[ 6 ]
Claw attack 1:  (1d20+4)[ 7 ]
Claw attack 2:  (1d20+4)[ 17 ]

Bite Damage:  (1d4+2)[ 3 ]
Claw Damage 1:  (1d3+2)[ 4 ]
Claw Damage 2:  (1d3+2)[ 3 ]

[User]
 The magic missile hits just hard enough to knock the Drow Matron prone.  It takes her a few seconds to stand and open the door.

In the face of a furious assault from dwarves and even a bear, the caster channels his inner Gandalf,  <"You shall not pass!!!>   He turtles up as best he can knowing his death is imminent, but hoping against hope he will give his matron time to escape.

The caster to south turns and blasts Drantil with a magic missile. (1d4+1)[ 2 ]   He then opens the door.

[User]
 It seems this cleric doesn't know when to stay down!!

 "Someone move over and close the door!!"

Prydwen himself launches another attempt at stopping the cleric. He moves to AC7 and casts Expeditious Excavation under the cleric.

 Spoiler: undefined
DC 15 reflex
You can excavate and move earth, dust, and sand up to the size of a 5-foot cube. If you are buried, you may open a 5-foot cube around yourself, but the spell cannot be used for tunneling. Besides its mundane applications, you can open a 5-foot-deep pit at a creature's feet. A Medium or smaller creature falls prone in the pit unless it succeeds on a Reflex save. With a successful save, it can choose to land harmlessly on its feet in the pit or hop to an adjacent square; this movement does not provoke attacks of opportunity. A creature can escape a 5-foot-deep pit with a DC 5 Climb check. Larger creatures may ignore pits smaller than their size.

[User]
 Your kind will only find their doom here when we re-take our home!  Logar bellows at the drow as he attempts to gut the foul creature with his longsword.

Attack  (1d20+4)[ 24 ]
Damage  (1d8+3)[ 9 ]

If the drow is dead before Logar attacks, he will instead charge at the cleric, if the drow is dead after Logar attacks, he will move to AG-6 to close the gap with the cleric.

[User]
 Confirming critical  (1d20+4)[ 17 ]
Extra critical damage  (1d8+3)[ 5 ]

[User]
 Drantil grimaces as the bolt of magic strikes him, and swings his axe in response.

 Spoiler: OoC
Don't I get an AoO for him casting in melee? If not, ignore the first attack set. If so, and the AoO drops him, then I close the door on my actual turn
AoO
Attack:  (1d20+5)[ 24 ]
Crit:  (1d20+5)[ 16 ]
Damage:  (1d8+4)[ 9 ]
Crit Damage:  (2d8+8)[ 20 ]

Attack
Attack:  (1d20+5)[ 11 ]
Crit:  (1d20+5)[ 19 ]
Damage:  (1d8+4)[ 5 ]
Crit Damage:  (2d8+8)[ 21 ]

[User]
 Holst prepares to fire again.

 Spoiler: Actions
5-foot step to  Z7

Longbow attack on Drow Cleric (if still applicable):  (1d20+3)[ 17 ]
Damage:  (1d8)[ 2 ]

Calling bear back to side.

If cleric can no longer be targeted, Holst will spend the round stowing his longbow, and drawing his greatsword.


[User]
 A young man stands in his room.
Your name is NORM and as it happens today is the 25th of May, and coincidentally the 26th anniversary of your birth. Luckily it is also a Sunday and thus one of your days off. Another more venerable coincidence about today is that it also happens to be the 26th birthday of your twin brother ANDY. Though you are separated by multiple states, you keep him and a small list of other friends on your Pesterchat tm  client, and it looks like ANDY, WILL and DEVIN are all currently online, though DEVIN is idle.

You've already received a few gifts thus far, but there is also the prospect of a new online multiplayer game you've been invited to join with aforementioned friends. WILL has told you nothing about it other than it is a long, weird list of adjectives and an adventure game. He's supposed to give you the key in order to download it soon.

  What do you do?

[User] Eat something vaguely foodlike and check to see if I have a copy of this new game yet.

[User] Upon finding out that it is not I go online and ask Andy if he knows anything new about this game.

[User]
 Upon searching through your kitchen for something edible, you realize that you've either got to get creative or lower your standards dramatically. Baking soda and salad dressing a meal does not make. You return to your desk to discover your twin is idle, either in some raucous celebration or more likely lounging at some other portion of his home. Regardless, you're left more or less in the dark. That is until you receive an email notification again from your good friend Will! It's about time he give that damn code.

   Hey Norm, I got the code for the game if you're ready to DL and play. It looks like there's some shenanigans about so I'm gonna be your host, I think. I hope it works. Anyway,

H8P1E - 8H0M3 - 4N0WE

Punch that bad boy in and we'll get to playing

-Will

As you finish reading through the email, you hear a knock at the door, and the sound of something being dropped at it. Through your powers of common sense, you can deduct someone has sent you a package. What will you do?

[User] I cautiously check out this package.  Start punching if the package is just a flasher tea-bagging my doorstep.


[User] The grand peaks of the Flying Range stands proud in the distance, dwarven holds clearly visible in the fading light of the twilit hours. Grand golems stand as a silent monuments to battles long since waged, and sand blasted into glass glints in the cool air. But before the path to the Gates of the Phoenix, lies the Last Chance, a humble town that dwellers and seekers of the Arcanocracy alike know well. A melting pot of money, means and magic. Exotic eggs from the depths are brought here, first, many scholars make the Last Chance their abode, choosing the safety of the foundations rather than dwelling in the dangerous, chaotic city, reborn from the Arcanocracy. However, as the fires are set, and the cold night air moves in, visibility under the Range falls to impenetrable inky blackness, and thus transit ceases. The last stretch of the journey will be made tomorrow morning, for new arrivals, and natives alike.

[User]
 Kae is a townie, and insofar as much as Last Chance is part of the town, she is there at least part of the time, especially when out-of-towners arrange for her to work with them. Thus Kae finds herself in a townie bar, drinking a chilled and watered-down mug of spiced wine by a window with a view of the moon above some nearby forest in her pre-mission ritual dedicated to Sehanine Moonbow and Solonor Thelandira. Having picked up  some  information about the gods of her people--at least her people-as-a-whole--she feels like honoring the goddess of death and the god of the hunt are particularly apt for her skillset.

She awaits the appointed hour, reading again the note passed to her through the subagency of the City Watch that posts essentially "reverse bounties" for experienced delvers sought by newcomers to the area as guides or bodyguards. Kae heads out when the right time is at hand for meeting with the erstwhile organizer of the group, some academic or something, and she can't help but snort.   "From the ivory tower to the bloody-red bird gate,"   she chuckles to herself.

[User] Boddynock looks over the applicants who have arrived at the tavern from his position seated at a table in the corner, looking out the window. " Is this all of us, then? " He says, concerned that the group may be a little outmatched in the upcoming expedition.

[User] A tall woman, wearing the clothes of the drow, strides forwards with purpose. While her face is stern, her eyes sparkle with anticipation.  "The time for reckoning is at hand."  She turns to the group.  "Are you ready?"

[User] "You're the primary, right? Wouldn't you know if this was everyone?"   Kae shrugs and glances at the other people in the tavern - rather, the non-townies, those obviously clustered nearby.   "And you're a...professor or something, right? What do you think or hope to find down there, and for...what? Not that it's any of my business, really, but I've been down there before. Place gets crazy, unpredictable, but...maybe if I knew, I could try to figure out how to best plan the delve."

[User]
 Prelen scans the area as he walks slowly into the building, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. He sniffs at the tavern air, trying to use all of his senses to alert him of any potential danger. Finally assured there is safety in these walls, he stands erect and makes his way to the table and has a seat. As he sits, he takes off his weapon belt and leans his swords against the chair.

  "Greetings. I take long to get here. Apologies."

[User] And with the arrival of the fifth man, the last glimmer of daylight passed beneath the horizon, ushering in the dark. However, the town was far from sleepy, and the buzz of conversation continued in the diner, as folk discussed maps, paths, harvesting iron from slain golems, gathering dragon bones, and other salvaging plans that the drifters on the fringe of the city were known for.


[User]
 Your company of heroes has recently arrived in the city, looking for opportunities to fight evil and earn gold!

The group is formed by Lyrika, the sorcerer, Archibald, the fighter, Zenaida, the rogue and an unusual goblin companion, Thokla, with mysterious magical powers.

Yearning for adventure, you chose the best spot in town to find it: The Golden Trout Tavern and Inn.

Right in the center of the city of Talssen, under the shadow of the endless tower, the Golden Trout has long been considered the home of adventurers! A place to rest, drink, eat and find quests posted on the bulletin board.

The walls of the tavern are completely covered in posters of the resident hero: The famed gladiator, “The Miro”!

Well, fame might be a strong word to describe him. Let’s say.. up-and-coming.

Nevertheless, the Golden Trout regulars are his captive audience and biggest fans. He owns a room at the top floor and is assured free meals and drinks. Which makes it all that more surprising that such a celebrity would ask to join your band of adventurers. But the truth is Miro has had enough of the Arena scene and is ready to test his might against new challenges.

But despite all the group’s excitement, today is a very troubled morning for the patrons of the golden trout! A worrying event happened in the early hours of the day and it is all everyone is speaking about.

 “What could it mean for us?”

“Are we all doomed?”

“Was it some kind of attack? We should evacuate the city!!”

The Pyre of Shells has been lit! The peculiar shimmering purple smoke can be seen on the horizon. And the magic guard is urgently recruiting volunteers to send to the inner sea!

 “What is going on..?!?”

To the west of Talssen, near the continent’s inner sea, there is a costal settlement of sentient humanoid turtle-like creatures, a race known as the Tortle.

Aeons ago, the founding Mage Talssen himself befriended the Tortle and sworn to protect them.
If anything threatened the coastal settlement, they should light a special pyre to signal for help, the Pyre of shells! However, throughout the entire history of the city, the pyre has never been lit...

Until today.

[User]
 Zenaida approaches one of the magic guardsmen.

  'Scuse me. What's in it for me? If I go, I mean.

[User] It felt odd being back with an adventuring group, but with the recent events he supposed that it was best he had some people at his back. It was also nice to have companions who would speak to the guard without fear. Hanging back within ear shot, Liryka watches as Zenaida progresses through the conversation. Eyes constantly drifting towards the rising purple smoke.

[User]
 Miro was in the middle of drinking and boasting about his last match- a hard-fought and respected battle, but one where he inevitably emerged victorious- when he had first heard the Pyre was lit and of its significance.  Knowing he had to ease the populace, and that his new adventuring pals were likely ready to go on an adventure anyway, Miro stood up and proclaimed to the tavern his intent.

 "Denizens of the Golden Trout and the town around it, do not fear!  Though  The Miro's  days in the ring are coming to a close, the bell rings on his next step towards glory: Hero of the Coast!  Who so ever is terrorizing our allies shall taste naught but  The Miro's  Iron Fist through their stomachs once I am through!"   To accompany his shout he raises his flail and wooden shield; the latter emblazoned with a blood red fist and the former crudely decorated with ink to make the end resemble a fist.

[User]
 Thokla struggles to see through the crowd.  All these thoughtless big people standing in the way, without taking into consideration small goblins whose line of sight would be blocked.  Once she manages to see what's going on, she doesn't immediately grasp the significance.  She's not from around here, after all.

However, after Zenaida mentions going somewhere, and The Miro's speech before the crowd, she feels confident enough in what's going on to make an informed decision.

 "If people need out help, we should go."

She then adds in an undertone to Zenaida,

 "They'll probably be grateful enough to give you a reward!"

[User]
 "  Listen up, Tokkie, gratitude can only get you so far,  " Zenaida answers in a conspiratorial whisper. "  If you don't got it in writing, you don't got nothing!  "

The halfling was clearly speaking from experience.

[User] Archie had been standing patiently in what he thought was a line to speak to the guard. Seeing Zenaida approach the guard directly, he sighs but listens carefully to hear the guard's answer.

[User]
 *Miro gains 1 inspiration point for the speech.

Inside the tavern, a couple of fans grab Miro’s arm and plead “ Please don’t go, it could be very dangerous! ”

Outside, the guard stares at Zenaida and sneers at the rogue:

“ You mean beyond the satisfaction of doing the honourable thing? Greedy halflings… There’s 10 gold pieces if you go and an extra 10 if you return. ”

Within a few seconds, the captain of the guard, Hannah, arrives riding her famous unicorn.

Captain Hannah is a Tiefling who proved her worth through the ranks of the magic guard and rose to captain. As the highest ranking officer, her authority falls short only to Lord-Wizard Talssen himself, who founded the city.

From afar she almost looks human. But in close inspection, you’ll notice she has six fingers in each hand, her legs are goat-like and her skin has a green hue and is scaly like a lizard’s.

She shouts to the crowd:

“ Attention! The pyre of shells is burning. The magic guard will launch a group within the hour. If any of you mercenary types are in for a reward, please proceed in an orderly fashion to the endless tower! ”

“ Some of you might have heard rumors that this is an attack of the triton people, but our divination team has found no evidence to confirm this. May I remind you that the triton wars ended over a hundred years ago and prejudice against the ocean-folk is not allowed in our city. ”

Among the crowd, many people stare at the smoke in the horizon, but not no one raises their hand to volunteer.

Except maybe for your group?

Note: this is a sandbox world and all quests are optional. Don't feel like you have to accept if this is something your character would rather not do.

[User] Archie likes the sound of being paid in advance.   "Uh, sure. I think I'd be up for it. Guys?"   Archie makes motions as if to raise his hand, but does not actually do so, waiting for others to follow suit.

[User] "  Okay, but on one condition!  " Zenaida pipes up as she raises her hand, which then points to the guard who insulted her. "   He was rude to me, and he's a racist too, calling all halflings greedy. Dismiss him from his post.  "

[User]
 At the indication of coin, Liryka opens a sad looking coin purse, adorned with loose stitching which hangs from tattered edges of deeply faded leather, to reveal a measly handful of silver. Not normally an eager volunteer, the lack of a worth while pay day drew a contemplative sigh from his drooped head.   Would be nice if there were a few more... distractions, to diffuse any potential aggression...   Nodding at nothing, Liryka utters,  "Don't be so capricious, you'll be fine,"  before moving forward towards the Unicorn mounted Captain.

Palming his focus in his hand, Liryka gingerly recites an incantation. A moment passes before above Captain Hannah what appears to be a twisting display of radiant orbs separate and begin to pulsate around the Captain and her mount.

 Spoiler: Minor Illusion
Liryka is casting Minor Illusion to create the sparkly orbs.

As those around watch Liryka shouts,   "The Heavens have spoken! We are divinely favored, come all let us raise arms as one!"

 Spoiler: Persuasion Roll
Hoping to persuade others around to enlist their services.

Persuasion Roll:  (1d20+3)[ 16 ]

[User]
 Miro looks down at the fans, touched by their concern, but shuts his eyes and shakes his head as if to affirm his resolve.   "Do not fret, my good people, for  The Miro  shall emerge victorious!"   He puts away his weapon and shield and, after saying his confident farewells to his adoring fans, makes his way toward the rest of the group.

 "So!  My compatriots, we are to go to smash some bad guys' heads, yeah?"

[User]
 Thokla whispers to Zenaida,

 "Might be best to just let it go."

She gives the Halfling a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.  Not that she didn't agree that the guard's comment was out of line, but she knew that sometimes there's nothing you can do in the face of that kind of ignorance.  Gods knew she'd faced it often enough as a Goblin.

She then turns to The Miro.

 "I'll probably let you big guys do the smashing.  I'll just stand back and blast 'em from y'know...  A safe distance."

[User]
 Zenaida's eyes flash with a malicious look as she commits the racist guardsman's face and name into her memory.

He will soon have his comeuppance, even if he isn't a gnoll. Or her name's not Zenaida Gnollkiller!


[User]
 You have been summoned to the castle of Cyndoria to meet with queen Alyssa.

The south tower has been completely demolished and the rubble is blocking the main entrance, so the guards take you through a detour.

“ If you were expecting to finally see the famous throne room, you’ll have to wait for another occasion, the ceiling caved in and the room is under the wreckage. ” One of the guards says.

You are brought to a small library on the west tower, temporarily being used as an audience chamber.
And there you see her, the queen. She looks busy coordinating the reconstruction effort, standing with a clipboard in hands comparing notes with an aide. She wears a casual blue jumpsuit and a construction hat. The guard hails. “ Your majesty, Queen Alyssa. ”

Noticing your entrance, the queen exclaims:

“  The heroes of our land!  ” She invites you to sit and another aide brings a tray with refreshing drinks. Amid the rubble and dust, she makes a toast “  To our party planners!  ” She drinks and says:

“  Thank you for coming in aid of our city. As you can see our new year’s party did not go well, to say the very least…

  The Gods were deeply displeased and have issued an ultimatum. We, the capital of the kingdom, must throw an epic new year’s party for the next year, or else our world will be destroyed...

I fear I must lay the burden of this epic quest upon your shoulders and I hope your talents will be enough to succeed. Our very world depends on it!

To avoid panic, we have not disclosed the importance of this mission to the public at large. This is why I rely on you: a group of unimportant heroes, with no fame, no reputation, barely competent and completely forgettable. No commoner will be alarmed to see your band of rat-catchers out in a quest.

And for that, I thank you. If not for your inability to achieve anything worth of mention, we would be doomed! Your remarkable incompetence is just what we needed! But now you must prove yourselves! You must finally achieve something great!

The kingdom needs you to plan an epic party to save the world!!  ”

[User]
 "You're welcome,"   Bug rumbled back after she was given thanks.
  Shouldn't they hire party planners or interior designers or chefs? There would be nothing odd at all about hiring the best of the best in that regard,   Bug thought to herself.
  Stop thinking and obey,   she heard Auntie Gwynneth snap into her head.

[User]
 The young cleric was offended by how the Queen was talking about her, she understood if it was just the commoners she's been summoned with, but now that she was apparently associated with the ragtag group, she was appalled. No matter how angered she was by her majesty's comments, she did know her place and begrudgingly nodded, ultimately letting the small problem go.

 'If a party is what you want, then a party is what you'll get.'  Damietta thought as she smirked with confidence.

[User]
 A bit late, a bard sweeps into the room, carrying an armful of loose papers.  "Sorry, I got a bit lost.
 Are we ready to start planning?"

[User]
 Nython
Would you like me to go find a more... suitable location for the party next year?

[User] I suspect you want us to acquire something  particularly  special.


[User]
 The countryside is always beautiful in the North, especially during this time of year. The wind can cut right through a man's clothing, but the sight of the forest foliage alight like wildfire makes up for it. Thankfully you're protected from the wind at the moment. You're sitting in a train car, a simple passenger on the way to Fairhaven, the capital of Aundair. The ride wasn't cheap, but it's at least a few days ride to the capitol, and House Orien has been giving a few discounts lately to try. According to rumor, they've been losing their high-priced clientele to House Lyrandar and their storm ships. Plus, with House Orien being located in Aundair, the tracks in this country always seem to be the best maintained.

As you muse, suddenly you hear a shout. Two men are standing at the front of your car, and you can see them eyeing up the passengers on the car. Suddenly, one of them, the larger of the two, shouts,  "ALRIGHT EVERYONE, DON'T MOVE! HERE'S WHAT YOU'RE GONNA DO! YOU'RE GOING TO TAKE ALL THE VALUABLES YOU HAVE, AND THROW THEM INTO MY ASSOCIATE'S BAG. IF YOU DO THAT, NO ONE GETS HURT. GOT IT?"  He pauses to look everyone over once more.  "DON'T GET ANY BRIGHT IDEAS, OR YOU'LL BE CLEANING YOUR BRAIN UP OFF THE FLOOR!"  He turns to the man dressed in leather next to him, and says in a quieter voice,  "What are you waiting for? Hurry up and get the cash."

They shakedown the passengers in the first seat, then the ones next to them.

 Alright Team North... what do you want to do?

 Spoiler: Team North

 Ashanni Daeraitha, played by spinningdice
 Dex Roshan, played by DevonKM
 Gorva Star-Gazer, played by Houlio  Sarah, played by Mister E

 Spoiler: Things That Are Known
This train is a pretty smooth ride.

 Spoiler: Maps of the Area
Will add shortly

[User]
 Ashanni looks at the folk near her, and raises an eyebrow questioningly as she begins to slip her wand from it's sheath.

 Ashanni is disinclined to let the thugs take what they want, but she's not daft enough to try and face them alone...

[User]
 Across the isle, a young looking halfling catches the elf's eye, then winks. With one hand she slowly reaches up to take a firm grip on her walking stick. Its wooden surface is worn and gnarled, pitted and, in one place, charred.

She looks at the elf closely, sees the wand protruding from the others sheath, then nods slightly. Slightly inclining her head, Sarah gestures with her free hand. The movement is kept low, so that it will not be visible to the two thugs. First she points to the other woman, then to the goon on the left.

The intention is clear: Sarah intends the elf to attack the one closer to her, while Sarah takes the one on the right.

[User] Gorva was enjoying the quickly passing countryside of Aundair through the cabin's large window. As she hears the demands of the train robbers shouted out, she notices the elf and halfling in her car begin to make some moves.   I can't let these two do it alone, they don't look like they'd last a minute   Gorva thinks. She will silently draw her mace under the table so as to avoid the attention, looking for an opening.

[User] OOC: If they're far away enough not to notice, Ashanni will cast Mage Armour. If they'd easily notice, she won't bother.

[User] DM: If you want to give it a shot, roll Stealth. I will compare it to their passive perception.

[User]
 Ashanni incants under her breath, trying to raise her protective armour in case this all goes terribly wrong.

 (1d20+4)[ 9 ]

[User]
 Originally Posted by spinningdice
 Ashanni incants under her breath, trying to raise her protective armour in case this all goes terribly wrong.

[roll0]

The two thugs are too busy down shaking people in the front row to worry about the people in the backrow. Maybe they're amateurs, or just too overconfident. Whatever reason, their attention is focused at the moment.

[User] Ashanni keeps her voice low   "So my friends, do we attack now while they are distracted? Or would you rather wait for them to get close so you can hit them with your implements?"

[User] ”We should wait until they’re closer. There’s no reason to ruin a hunt with an early shot.”

[User] The thugs move on from the first row to the second, collecting cash, necklaces and other trinkets into a bag. One man stands up, loudly shouting that he won't take it and shielding a woman that can be assumed to be his wife, and is bowled over with a punch from the taller one. They grab the female and shake her violently, until she hands over her purse, sobbing. The others in the train car are visibly affected by this, some turning away from the violence, others gulping audibly.

[User]
 "Screw that."   Ashanni stands up,   "Enough"
She utters a few words in Draconic and a bell toll sounds as she directs her wand to the thug.

 Spoiler: OOC

Toll the Dead Wis Save (DC13) or  (1d8)[ 4 ]  Necrotic Damage (upped to d12 if wounded, but I assume he isn't).

If you want to break out Init before she starts the spell then  (1d20+4)[ 16 ]   (though in PbP I'm fine if the DM wants to roll inits together)

[User]
 As the elf stands up, the shorter of the two criminals looks at her with a leer. That look turns to shock though, as she whips out a wand towards him with a look of defiance on her face.

 (1d20-1)[ 0 ]

(OOC: LOL)

The thug's eyes go wide as magical power surges across the car towards him. He screams in panic, and tries to turn away. All this does is ensure he gets his straight in the back with the blast of energy, and he falls to the floor, blubbering, "Jameth! Jameth! It's a magic user! AHHH!! Run! I don't like magic!" He continues to flail around on the floor of the cab, his efforts to get up impeded by his terror.

His associate looks at him in disgust, and pulls out a long baton from behind his back.

[User]
 DM: Time to roll initiative! Going to roll for both. This means I'll add their dex modifiers together and roll whatever it ends up. So if one dude is -1 and the other is +2, it would be +.5, rounded up to +1.

 (1d20+1)[ 8 ]  Initiative!

[User]
 Gorva also jumps to action, and she hops over the table to get into the main section of the train car (when it hits her turn). She will prepare to cast thorn whip on the further of the robbers as the run.

 Spoiler: OOC
Initiative:  (1d20)[ 17 ]

[User] DM: Alright Gorva, feel free to take your action, might as well get this ball rolling!


[User]
 Jorith stood on the hill, savoring the moment. Gone were the days of tears, the days of hopelessness. Now, he would get his vengeance.

 He looked behind him. The army of wights, zombies, and other undead horrors stood hundreds deep. And all of them, from the weakest skeleton to the mightiest Death Knight, were ready to fall upon the city at his command.

 Jorith was surprised at first. He never expected Zhobal, his Lich mentor and master, to give him temporary control over his vast armies. Zhobal had proved to be a paranoid and power-hungry wizard, and he almost expected to be laughed at.

 But surprisingly, Zhobal agreed. All he wanted in return was one thing- the King's crown, stylized in the shape of a coiled snake (Hence the nickname of King Cobra). Obviously, he was going to hand it over. Just needed to identify its use first.

 The knight caught a glimpse of himself in his sword. Ever since he had completed that arcane ritual, and became one of the living dead, things felt a bit more... hollow. The fire in his heart for vengeance, the one that had been lit on that fateful farm day, felt somewhat dull. Everything was muted.

 Jorith shook his head, putting on his helmet. He needed to find Tal and...who was it? Right, Elana. The king would be rolling out his siege weapons soon.

 Spoiler: OOC
 So, funny thing here. Autocorrect actually changed my name for the king. So I gave it an interesting little reason here.

[User]
 Tal smiled as he climbed the same hill that his old friend was standing upon. He glanced around at the army that Jorith had amassed. He knew that most of them were on loan from the Lich that Jorith had learned from. Tal had never met the old Lich and wasn't sure that he ever wanted to. Such undead seemed to often look down on what they called "lesser undead" such as himself. He suppressed the singing bones of his new form for the time being. It was an effect that he loved but also one that he preferred to suppress when he meant to have productive conversations. Before he mounted the hill himself he looked over at the group of his own undead that he had brought with him. His favorite had to be the zombified Hydra that roared into the air. Surrounding him though were his 2 Lieutenants and of course his friend Hicara. He had finally gained the strength to bring her back and he always had her by his side. His lieutenants were of course Dread Warriors with the ability to command undead themselves.

Tal regretted that his own ascension into undeath left him as seemingly a skeleton. It made things difficult occasionally when it came to his performances though disguising himself wasn't all that difficult when he needed to do so. Today though he had not taken the steps to do so, wanting the King to see what he had driven his enemies to. To see the depths of the vengeance that was coming for him. He saw Jorith and smiled.

 "Well met my friend. Undeath suits you well. I must admit though, I am surprised that the old Lich lent you so many of his minions."

[User]
 Jorith smiled, though it wasn't visible underneath his helmet. He didn't have many allies, and even fewer friends. He took off his helmet and faced the undead bard.

 "Tal. It is good to see you old friend. I'm glad you have your friend back."  His gaze flitted briefly to Hicara.

 "While you have her back, I'm glad to see that your thirst for justice is by no means fulfilled.

And yes, I suppose I was as well. These were armies that took him years to build up. The dragons were especially tricky for him. But it seems he has his own interests in this attack. He asked me to bring him back Carstair's crown.

 But enough about the spellcasting skeleton. Where is Elena? We can't start this attack without her. This is a day for all of us."

 Spoiler: OOC
What exactly is Hicara? Awakened Undead?

[User]
 Elana ticked. She knew most of those undeads were her fault, killed by Cobra due to her mistake, and the poetic vengeance could still reach her, but undeath was still something she was used to fight against, not alongside.

Clad in her scintillating soul gear, she passes through the ranks (and vile) of the monsters, climbing the hills. Distrust was perceptible, but she didn't care. Not really.

Once she reached the top, seeing the whole army, as well as the opposition they will face she waited for a second before speaking.

" Those aren't only those who died due to my mistakes, right? Promise me you'll limit collateral victims, both of you. "

[User]
 "Ah, Elana. It's good to see you. Today is the day we have been waiting years for. Today, the King will take his last breath.

 The group is varied. Some are from graveyards, some are from those who futilely threw themselves against the Lich, and some are those soldiers who saw fit to destroy my farm.

 I cannot guarantee anyone's safety. This a matter of war, of course. The unintelligent undead have been commanded to attack only those who take up arms against them. As for the death knights and others....they fear me more than they hate the living. I myself will cut down anyone who tries to stop us from getting into that palace.

 But enough talk. It's time for action."

[User]
 "Of course, I have given my minions the general standing order to only kill those who take up arms as well. I am not here for wanton slaughter. I am here to take my revenge on the head of the King. I have no qualms with the commoners and in fact was received well by them in the days prior to Hicara losing her head."

Tal gave the order to his own lieutenants to ready his troops for battle. One was necromancer himself and thus had command over his own undead while the other was marked as his lieutenant via his own magic. Hicara would stay back and lift up her voice to empower the undead.

 "My troops are ready. I give the command to you Jorith. You are a leader more then I. Let us hope that this battle goes quickly. I want to have the king's head before us by days end. Also, if neither of you are against it I would love to bring the King back as one an undead that is unable to be raised. I want to prolong his suffering. One death is not enough for the wretch."

[User]
 " I'll prefer he doesn't come back, even as an undead. And if anyone thinks about bringing him back... well, he won't have any army, and we'll send him back where he belongs. "

Raising her hand toward the fortress, she simply adds.

" Let's go then. "


[User]
 Eltabbar: Eltabbar is the hidden heart of a country that puts forth a hardened image. The city is surprisingly beautiful in nearly every respect, from its glittering canals to its greenery and artworks. There are many fine buildings with columns and marble, and while the greatest are public, a number of private noble houses are quite impressive. The squalor of the slave quarter is negligible compared to the gondolas and the major thoroughfares. This is where Thayans aspire to go on their honeymoons, or to find a suitable marriage. It is also where all Thayan bards would like to perform.

Located in the cities Dark Quarter is the Church of Spirits, the temple of Velsharoon.

 Spoiler: Temple

Made of dark granite, the Church of Spirits has no windows to the outside. The only entrance to the building is a pair of gothic, iron doors leading onto the square. Each door is decorated with a skull. The building design is a stepped pyramid, in essence like a square of granite with a smaller square on top and a smaller square on top etc. It’s about 60 feet high. Silver guttering runs around the edge of each layer and down the edges of each corner.

Inside, the temple if all dark corridors of black marble, unadorned with any decoration. Heavy, unmarked iron doors lead into all the rooms and the overall effect is extremely dark and it seems to swallow sound and light. Illumination is provided by sticks of crystal housed in slots in the wall that glow gently. Around the outside of the building are the habitation cells of the disciples that live within the temple and further into the building are the quarters of the higher priests, torture chambers, sacrificial chamber and the altar of death.

 Spoiler: Information

*Location: In the center of Thay, near the Thaymount, on the southern shores of Lake Thaylambar. Most of the oddly shaped tharch is used for growing crops, and a number of Nar ruins are said to dot the landscape far from the city.
*Climate: Like all interior Thayan cities, the weather is fair, with scheduled rainfall at night. The city suffers more often from magical mishaps than any climate changes.
*Geographic Features: The canals of the city are well-known but surprisingly orderly. The lake is plentifully stocked, and the mountains rise steeply to the West. The major road through Thay, known as The Slave Way, leads to Eltabbar from the coast. The road is carefully kept and slaves are marched instead of teleported, so as to break their spirits by the time they arrive in the city.
*History: Eltabbar was founded in 923, a year after Thay won its independence from Mulhorand. Placing the new nation's capital deep inside seemed only natural, but was said to have darker motives. It is near the Thaymount, where the nation's premiere wizards have secret laboratories and forges, and thus sometimes suffers from earthquakes. It was also the heart of the civil conflict amongst the nobles that no one likes to talk about but which necessitated the creation of the Eltabbar Census. Since then, registered noble families can only host a set number of blood relations within the city limits at any given time, a number which has steadily dropped since the creation of the Census but which must be declared to the Census office. Each house is allowed a permanent number of inhabitants and a temporary roster of visitors that can stay for up to six months.
*Reputation: It is known as the center of Kossuth’s worship, the slave trade, politics, and art; it is also the second largest city in Thay.
*Relations: Eltabbar has a rivalry with Bezantur, the most populous city in the empire.
*Religions: Bane, Kossuth, Siamorphe, Waukeen, with lesser gods in minor temples and shrines. The churches of Eltabbar all require regular tithing and/or service, although they are careful not to cross the will of the Red Wizards. Most churches use discounts and special services as bargaining chips over the majority of the populace; such things are never assured, except for Red Wizards.
*Notable Heroism: Generals for Thay often hail from Eltabbar, but are trained at the military academy in Pyarados. The Tharchion spends a good amount of time in the city.
*Notable Scandals: Those who try to flee noble families and duties are looked down upon, and traitors to Thay are reviled.
*Important Celebrations: Major holidays for the churches are conspicuously grand.
*Criminal Element(s): The city is run by evil and vengeful wizards. Any thieves in the area steal from visitors, not from locals(but not always...of course)

 Spoiler: ooc

Feel free to start somewhere...we can make and build as we go on

[User]
 It had been many years since Liam had stepped foot in the Church of Spirits. Not since his younger days as a mere acolyte had he crept along its dark halls or chanted in the sacrificial chamber. The memories could hardly be referred to as fond, but they were formative. His study here had taught him of the duality of life and death and shown him of the mysteries that existed between and outside of them. In the years since, he had earned his stripes in the service of his creed, participating in slave raids from neighboring Rashemen and Mulhorand, and furthering his understanding of undeath.

He found it odd that he had been called back now of all times and without pretense. Standing before the front gate, he pulled back the hood of his cloak and removed his black helmet. With a gauntleted hand pressed against the door and entered the temple.

[User]
 The inside of the temple is quiet, both from the thick heavy construction of the buildings and the areas of enchanted silence.

A young human female, an Pallbearer (acolyte) in a bone white robe and a bald head painted white, waits just inside of the doorway.   "Welcome to the church of spirits, they await you down the hall, in the White Room. "

[User] Nodding to the pallbearer, Liam walks down the familiar pathway to the White Room. He reminisces of his time in a similar position during the short walk.

[User]
 Other then a couple white wooden tables and chairs the White Room is just bare white walls and floor and ceiling.

Most Gray Spirit Necrophant Chatzkel Novasad, and older human male in a gray robe with a bald head covred in gray tattos sits in one chair in the middle of the room, looking into a floating crystal ball in front of him.

 "Come in, sit.  "

Once you enter the room, the door to the room closes itself and locks and then is covered by a soft white glow.

  Most Gray Spirit Necrophant Chatzkel Novasad  "Come in, sit. We have a lot to talk about.... "

Two of the white chairs walk forward and over to you so you may sit on one of them.

[User] Liam places his helmet on a table as he enters the room proper and walks over to sit across from the Most Grey Spirit. Flicking out his cloak, he takes a seat in the white chair and looks into the floating ball. As the lesser party, he waited calmly for his superior to speak. The elderly man must know that he had many questions about the circumstances that brought him here, but he knew better than to speak out of turn.

[User]
 The orb flashes views of alleyways, streets and courtyards,,,

 Most Gray Spirit Necrophant Chatzkel Novasad   "I'm going to skip all the fluff and get right down to the bone.  The faithful are being killed.  In just the last month we lost eleven of us, six of them priests.  We don't know who is behind it.  No one has taken credit.  But, even more so with the last killings, we think it might be someone here on the inside.  We don't want to show our bones though, it would be to easy for the killer to slip away...even more so if they have something ready.  We need someone loyal and that we can trust, and we know where you were out of the area.  Four of the priests killed were also from your graduation class, that could just be a coincidence....or maybe there is a connection.  We need you to find out.  "

[User] "As you command, Most Gray." His eyes flicker to the orb again, "Where did these murders take place? What am I to say is the reason for my return?"

[User]
 Most Gray Spirit Necrophant Chatzkel Novasad   "A couple different locations.  We really did not put them all together until the last group.   After all people die all the time and the first couple did not seem too out of place, but looking back, they must have been the start.

It's no secret your here, obviously.  We don't need much more of a reason then you came here to pray, and rest, and seek guidance.  It is after all what followers of a god do at a temple.  If you feel the need for some sort of more cover, feel free to come up with something.

We have a person with all the details for you.  She has been entrapped during the whole time, so we know it was not her.  And while she is a devoted follower of Velsharoon, she is not a cleric.

Unless you have some other questions I'll go and send her in."

[User] "No, Most Gray," Liam bows his head, "I pray I am adequate for the task you have given me."

[User]
 Most Gray Spirit Necrophant Chatzkel Novasad leaves the room, and about a minute later a young human female with pale skin and a near matching white robe enters the room and closes the door.

 Shorafa Ouvren   "Well met, I'm Shorafa Ouvren.  I'm a faith full of Velsharoon, but not a cleric.  I'm a bard by trade.  I've spent the last several weeks imprisoned, for a minor digression.  I'm eager to make up for that.  I've immersed myself in the available details, but I don't have experience with this sort of thing.  Hopefully we can work together to solve it."

[User] As Shorafa entered the room, Liam stands and nods to the woman before seating himself again. He took stock of her movements and appearance as she made her way to join him. She looked like a typical supplicant, though she lacked any distinguishing marks that may place her among the higher ranks. "I am Liam Gaweirus. You have me at a disadvantage, then. Please, bring me up to speed; start at the beginning."

[User] Shorafa Ouvren   "It seems someone is out killing the faithfull of Velsharoon.  Maybe someone on the inside, at or around the temple.  Eleven total, six were clerics."

[User] "Yes, the Most Grey Spirit mentioned that, but how are they being killed? Where were the dead found?"

[User] Shorafa Ouvren   "Brutally.  Ripped a part by claws and teeth.  The bodies were found where they died.  None here in the temple.  Four were in their homes, three were in allies, and the last four were together in a court yard."

[User] "It seems we have our work cut out for us. There is a multitude of things that could have been responsible... Have there been any outspoken opponents of the church recently?"

[User]
 Shorafa Ouvren   "Nothing so obvious.  The church keeps a low public profile.  The worship of Velsharoon is done best in the dark and out of sight.  And the church has no foes other then good in general.

The theory here is that it is someone inside the temple.  Those who worship Velsharoon are not well known and few faithful show it off. And the last four were killed together on temple business.   The cleric Irpur Esen, two faithful workers Moruth and Doole were killed while at a small private funeral for a faithful woman's husband.  That woman Faire Senefortho, was also killed.  Very few even in the church knew when and where the funeral was talking place.  "

[User] The facts of the latest case a furrow of frustration across his brown, "So... who was privy to that meeting? Who knew it was taking place?"

[User] Shorafa Ouvren   "Officially, other then the ones who have died,  only two clerics here at the temple knew about the meeting.  Elisaveta Rykouva the one who set up the event and Zavian Desante who approves of all such events.  But such information is hardly secure or secret, so anyone in the temple might have known about it.  That is part of the problem, not knowing who to trust and what makes us, as outsiders, of value."

[User] "Has anyone tried communing with the dead for answers?"

[User] Shorafa Ouvren    "Of course.  But most of the attacks were done in magical darkness.  A couple saw a humanoid dressed all in black or a bear-like monster.  But that could be anything.  The bodies from the last attack are still here, if you wanted to question them."

[User] "Of course... I suppose it would be worth my time to do so. They might have noticed something else that wouldn't be obvious to question. Have you any other thoughts about the matter at hand?"

[User] Shorafa Ouvren   "Well, solving the mystery is a bit boring.  I was thinking we could just speed things up and use you as bait and then grab the killer when he comes for you.  Anyway, are you powerful enough to speak with the dead yourself, or do we need to get a more powerful priest?"

[User] "I can do so myself, but your idea has merit. The problem is we don't really know why these members were targeted, so there's no way of knowing what kind of target I present." Liam scratches his chin, "But yes, I can do so myself."

[User]
 Shorafa Ouvren nods and leads you down into the crypt and over to a small room lit by some everburing orbs on the walls.  Six stone tables are in the room, four of them have wrapped up corpses on them.

 Shorafa Ouvren   "This is them"

[User] Liam looks at the bodies and says a short prayer before looking at the markers. Once he finds Irpur Esen, he brandishes his holy symbol and casts Speak with Dead.

[User] The corpse of  Irpur Esen turns it's head to look at Liam and waits for some questions.

[User] "What did you hear before before the attack."

[User] Irpur Esen   "A voice said ''evil must be purged'' and the sound of heavy footsteps and a deep growl.''

[User]
 (( sorry about the delay, it's been kind of a hectic week for me ))

Liam looks to Shorafa and raises an eyebrow before turning back to the dead cleric, "Who's voice was it?"

[User]
 Irpur Esen   "I did not know the voice."

Shorafa Ouvren writes everything down on a scroll.

[User] "My final question, who would want you dead?"

[User] Irpur Esen   "No one I know of, I have no personal enemies."

[User] As the magic fades and the corpse lies still once more, Liam shakes his head, "Well, that wasn't nearly as helpful as I'd have liked, but it did bring some things to light. 'Evil must be purged...?' A peculiar battle-cry, that."

[User] Shorafa Ouvren   looks over a scroll   "I'm not sure what that means.  Maybe that the killer is some sort of good vigilante?"

[User] "That's possible, but the nature of the attack seems less... 'righteous', and the possibility of such a vigilante existing in the city seems dubious at best. Perhaps it was planted to throw off efforts like this. The use of darkness in the attack shows some amount of pre-planning."

[User] Shorafa Ouvren    "It would seem to be.  I don't see any reason why there could not be a hidden good killer though.  Did you want to try any of the other bodies?"

[User] "I doubt they would be of any better aid, and I did not have another spell prepared." Liam scratches his chin, "I think your plan of setting myself up as the target would be best. It may be possible to lay a trap if the killer follows a similar method."

[User] Shorafa Ouvren nods  "Glad you agree.  I think you will make a good target.  But we also will need a good trap.  Can you handle yourself in a fight?  Should we try and catch them or just kill?"

[User] "I'm can hold my own fairly well, particularly with some preparation. Catching them would be preferable so that we can more effectively question the perpetrator."

[User] Shorafa Ouvren   "Ok.  So what do you think would make good bait?  How do we get the killer to come after you?  "

[User] "From what I can tell so far these seem to be simply attacks of opportunity. If I were to place myself in a seemingly vulnerable position, it could serve as proper bait." Liam shrugs, "You weren't able to discern anything the faithful had in common other than the church?"

[User] Shorafa Ouvren   "I don't think so.  Being faithful seems to be the only link.  I'm not sure how to make you good bait.  Any faithful could be the next target.  "