[User]
 Spoiler: Incarnum Dragon
 Racial Traits

 Starting Ability Score Adjustment: +2 Con, +2 Int
 Tiny Dragon (Incarnum)
 Base Land Speed 20 feet.

    Level
 Hit
Dice
 Base
Attack
 Fort
save
 Ref
Save
 Will
Save
 Skill Points
 Special
 Soulmelds
 Essentia
 Chakra Binds

  1
 1d12
 +1
 +2
 +2
 +2
 6
 Feat, bite 1d4, 2 claws 1d3
 0
 0
 0

  2
 2d12
 +2
 +3
 +3
 +3
 6
 +2 Cha, +1 natural armor
 0
 0
 0

  3
 3d12
 +3
 +3
 +3
 +3
 6
 Feat, +2 Int, speed 40 ft.
 0
 0
 0

  4
 3d12
 +3
 +3
 +3
 +3
 -
 Fly 100 ft. (poor), essentia drain breath 1d8, +3 natural armor, Level Adjustment
 0
 0
 0

  5
 4d12
 +4
 +3
 +3
 +3
 6
 +2 Cha, blindsense
 0
 0
 0

  6
 4d12
 +4
 +3
 +3
 +3
 -
  Wyrmling , meldshaping, fly 100 ft. (average), Level Adjustment
 1
 0
 0

  7
 5d12
 +5
 +3
 +3
 +3
 6
 +2 Int, +4 natural armor
 1
 0
 0

  8
 6d12
 +6/+1
 +4
 +4
 +4
 6
 Feat, +2 Cha
 1
 0
 0

  9
 6d12
 +6/+1
 +4
 +4
 +4
 -
 +2 Str, essentia drain breath 2d8, +6 natural armor, Level Adjustment
 1
 0
 0

  10
 7d12
 +7/+2
 +5
 +5
 +5
 6
  Very Young , Small size, bite 1d6, claws 1d4
 1
 0
 0

  11
 7d12
 +7/+2
 +5
 +5
 +5
 -
 +2 Con, +8 natural armor, Level Adjustment
 1
 0
 0

  12
 8d12
 +8/+3
 +6
 +6
 +6
 6
 +2 Wis, essentia drain breath 3d8
 1
 0
 0

  13
 9d12
 +9/+4
 +6
 +6
 +6
 6
 Feat, +9 natural armor
 1
 0
 0

  14
 10d12
 +10/+5
 +7
 +7
 +7
 6
  Young , +2 Int
 2
 1
 0

  15
 11d12
 +11/+6/+1
 +7
 +7
 +7
 6
 +2 Str, +10 natural armor
 2
 1
 0

  16
 11d12
 +11/+6/+1
 +7
 +7
 +7
 -
 +2 Cha, essentia drain breath 4d8, Level Adjustment
 2
 1
 0

  17
 12d12
 +12/+7/+2
 +7
 +7
 +7
 6
 Feat, chakra bind (crown)
 2
 1
 1

  18
 13d12
 +13/+8/+3
 +8
 +8
 +8
 6
  Juvenile , Medium size, fly 150 ft. (poor), bite 1d8, claws 1d6, 2 wings 1d4,, +2 Str, +12 natural armor
 2
 2
 1

  19
 14d12
 +14/+9/+4
 +8
 +8
 +8
 6
 +2 Wis, +14 natural armor
 2
 2
 1

  20
 15d12
 +15/+10/+5
 +9
 +9
 +9
 6
 Feat, +2 Con, essentia drain breath 5d8
 2
 2
 1

[User]
 Spoiler: Rolling...
 (4d6b3)[ 11 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 15 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 9 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 17 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 17 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 8 ]
 (10d12)[ 4 ][ 4 ][ 10 ][ 7 ][ 11 ][ 5 ][ 3 ][ 11 ][ 3 ][ 10 ](68)

[User]
 Oh, yes, rolling some things...

 (4d6b3)[ 8 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 9 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 6 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 13 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 15 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 13 ]
 (8d12)[ 2 ][ 12 ][ 6 ][ 11 ][ 8 ][ 8 ][ 7 ][ 11 ](65)

[User]
 that qualifies for a re-roll
 (4d6b3)[ 13 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 11 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 17 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 10 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 11 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 12 ]

[User]
 Proposing a homebrewed PrC based on the Soulcaster.

 Spoiler: The Dragonshaper!
  Entry Requirements

  Skills:  Knowledge (arcana) 8 ranks.
  Invocations:  Ability to use least draconic invocations.
  Meldshaping:  Ability to shape three soulmelds; ability to bind a soulmeld to a chakra.
  Special:  Breath Weapon 2d6 (or greater).

BAB 1/2, Poor Fort/Ref, Good Will, d6 HD.

    1
 Invocation Investment 1
 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  2

 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  3
 Chakra binds (crown, feet, hands)
 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  4

 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  5

 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  6

 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  7
 Invocation Investment 2
 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  8
 Chakra binds (arms, brow, shoulders)
 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  9

 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  10
 (some sort of capstone)
 +1 level of existing meldshaping class and +1 level of existing invocation-using class

  Weapon and Armor Proficiency:   None new.

  Meldshaping and Invoking:   As standard for PrC progressions.

  Invocation Investment (Su):   Invest essentia into invocations to make them more powerful. Essentia can only be invested 1/day when you shape soulmelds. The invested invocation has basic numeric effects increased by +1 per essentia invested. Using the invocation uninvests the essentia, so each "bonus" can only be used 1/day.
Max essentia invested at 1st level is 1. Max increases to 2 at 7th level.
Max number of invested invocations = class level.

 Examples:  Frightful Presence (+1 minute duration, +1 save DC), Humanoid Shape (no effect), Voidsense (+5 feet range), Draconic Flight (+5ft speed, +1 Con checks).

  Chakra Binds:   As standard.

[User]
 Assumption: Dragons have Draconic and Common as starting languages and Bonus Languages: Any

 Here's what I have so far.

Dragonfire Adept 1/Soulborn (AVB) 3/Dragonshaper 2 // Incarnum Dragon 6

I've speced the character to have knowledge checks through the roof and use Knowledge Devotion in every encounter. Additionally has at will detect magic/evil/chaos and can  identify  items as a full-round action with no material components. Pretty much meant to be the skill monkey, but there's no trapfinding...

Primary damage output is from a bite attack (natural soulblade + KnowDev + Smite + Dread Carapace = can reasonably expect +13 [1d6+17]) and breath weapons (3d6 fire || 1d8 untyped + 1 essentia damage).  Question: Does Knowledge Devotion apply to breath weapon damage?

Has Gold Dragon Heritage, so I was thinking something along the lines of our characters being half-siblings.

[User]
 some more rolls...

 (6d4)[ 4 ][ 1 ][ 2 ][ 1 ][ 3 ][ 3 ](14)

[User]
 (10d4)[ 4 ][ 4 ][ 2 ][ 1 ][ 3 ][ 2 ][ 4 ][ 3 ][ 2 ][ 4 ](29)
 (10d6)[ 5 ][ 2 ][ 1 ][ 3 ][ 1 ][ 2 ][ 2 ][ 3 ][ 6 ][ 5 ](30)
 (10d8)[ 2 ][ 1 ][ 6 ][ 8 ][ 6 ][ 3 ][ 3 ][ 6 ][ 2 ][ 2 ](39)
 (10d10)[ 4 ][ 10 ][ 10 ][ 7 ][ 1 ][ 6 ][ 9 ][ 1 ][ 2 ][ 2 ](52)

[User]
 Spoiler: Rolling for something else...
 (4d6b3)[ 10 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 15 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 14 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 8 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 11 ]
 (4d6b3)[ 17 ]
 (10d4)[ 4 ][ 4 ][ 4 ][ 3 ][ 2 ][ 2 ][ 1 ][ 4 ][ 1 ][ 2 ](27)
 (10d6)[ 6 ][ 4 ][ 1 ][ 3 ][ 4 ][ 2 ][ 4 ][ 4 ][ 2 ][ 1 ](31)
 (10d8)[ 7 ][ 4 ][ 4 ][ 6 ][ 7 ][ 4 ][ 2 ][ 6 ][ 3 ][ 4 ](47)
 (10d10)[ 5 ][ 1 ][ 4 ][ 5 ][ 7 ][ 8 ][ 9 ][ 7 ][ 6 ][ 10 ](62)
 (10d12)[ 2 ][ 6 ][ 7 ][ 4 ][ 11 ][ 2 ][ 7 ][ 7 ][ 9 ][ 10 ](65)

[User]
 Spoiler: Testing out a spreadsheet formatter...

    Eagle's Claw  - (1d20+4)[ 15 ]
  (1d4+7)[ 9 ]

   Grapple  - (1d20+11)[ 25 ]

[User]
 Spoiler: Trying Again!
    Full Attack

    Eagle's Claw  - (1d20+4)[ 10 ]
  (1d4+7)[ 9 ]

   Grapple  - (1d20+11)[ 16 ]

    Eagle's Fury  - (1d20+4)[ 24 ]
  (1d4+7)[ 11 ]

   Grapple  - (1d20+11)[ 30 ]

    Whirling Frenzy  - (1d20+4)[ 20 ]
  (1d4+7)[ 10 ]

   Grapple  - (1d20+11)[ 12 ]

    Fist of Stone  - (1d20-1)[ 1 ]
  (1d6+9)[ 11 ]

 [  Grapple  - (1d20+11)[ 13 ] ]

Edit: Removed the errant bracket at the end from the code, so it looks like I've got it! 😁


[User]
 You vaguely remember Momma. She was outside the shell, but you knew her call. Knew the caress of her mind...

You remember her scream. The sounds that your racial memory recognized as battle. You felt her loss though you never laid eyes upon her.

You felt the loss as they did something to you before you hatched. You felt loss. You feel diminished. Your potential and heritage denied.

They were there when you hatched. Their white coats and black skin. Trying to trick you into thinking they were somehow Momma. Feeding you kibble. Probing, measuring, testing, putting you in mazes to find meat or gems...and then taking them from you.

You, and your clutchmates in the surrounding cages are colorless. You don't even remember what color you are supposed to be, though you know you should have one. Your siblings have been taken, one by one, week by week. Your captors don't understand that you could feel each time one of their lives ended.

You are the last. You know their cycles. You know they have left 3 days worth of food in your cage, and that means that only one of them will be in the lab and he won't check you often.

Tonight is the night you take your freedom, and start your revenge...

You are in a cubical wire cage on a shelf with a water bottle, a small sleeping cushion and and a feeding dish.


[User]
 OOC

Calamity befell the world.

The people prayed, but the gods were silent to their prayers.  The people were confused, startled, panicked, and forlorn.  The disappearance of their gods shook the world leaving countless races godless.

The star shower of gods all started with a simple suicide.  The god of immortality was finally given an out as the contract gave him a weapon with which to kill even himself.  Thus the first of the godless were the trolls, those made out of spite and given such regeneration that they'd live for eons to come.  Despite their hateful birth, the trolls had loved their god, the man who had given them life.  Still hatchings the lot of them, one discovered the corpse and sword.  This troll was named Gruuug.  Gruuug took the sword, and with it managed to slay a god.  it was then that Gruuug felt a great power fllow into him, that power being divinity itself.  It was for this reason that the warror had traveled through aged pantheon after aged pantheon slaying gods more powerful then this budding world had ever seen.  It was because with his unmatchabl;e might he gathered the power of all the endless gods of all the endless worlds, growing stronger then all of them.  Gruuug however was not  that  man, Gruuug could not draw all the power from slain gods, but he still drew some, and so he slew more and more.  Sit James Free, the god of freedom, Anankê, god of fate, Astrid, god of that which is sacred, Yanish, god of cosmic distortion, Dorian, god of song, Karliah... debatably not a god... Sillthiss, god of shadows, and Hacke, god of pirates, all met their end one by one before the gods were even propperly aware of who their adversary was.  Many gods fled into hiding at this point, but after the event was over, a dimensional gap was found beside a smear of blood in Mondflay's library, the god of harvest and god of gods were found slaughtered in the realm of the gods, and while the god of gods had augmented his plane as he died to slow its time, the creature had still escaped.  It was unknown why, but creation felt the divinity of the grandmother of witches get cut short while she was still within her realm.

The slaughter was not just contained to gods however.  Many entities of deific standing also perished.  primordial beings who's age far surpassed the fledgling gods.  Even in the last moments of sealing the troll, the god of antimagic Verdamut and the ancient many faced golem who'd once served the lord of light were drawn into the planer trap of Verdamut along with Gruuug.

...and so the world was left in its present shattered state to the god of militant magic and the god of the elements, this world that was barely one year old...

 YEAR 1

 Spoiler

Each deity may create:
Planer creation: one plane
Creation of creatures: one or more races
Other Creation: craft 10 minor artifacts, craft 2 major artifacts, or make up to 2 sacred locations. (The others seem less applicable, but the contract is in the first post of the OOC if you feel so inclined.)

[User]
 Hajime's next creations will be...

Plane: The Elemental Plane of Water
Race: Human (Because they do need some presence.)
Sacred Locations: On the Material Plane, the Elemental Crest, a spot where the connection to the Elemental Planes is strongest, this is a place overflowing with nature, to the point that any attempt to colonize it is overthrown by the very forces of nature. It is said that the magic governed by Hajime is at its strongest when used in this location, but only when not used to damage it.

Also on the Material Plane, the Precipice of the world. Said to be the tallest mountain in the Material Plane, any who successfully scale this peak with only their natural physical skills may say a prayer to Hajime, allowing them a chance to meet the God face to face.


[User] Here's the ultimatum! WHo's the best gish? Will Greg cry?

[User] Post your gladiators here when ready!

[User]
 The Crymaker

Almost done here.
Will just buy equipment and prepare spells.


[User]
 Empires rise. Empires fall. Crystal Spheres burn with the endless fires of war, and are reborn. Trillions of people are born and die each day. The Great Wheel simply keeps turning.

And at the heart of the Great Wheel, there is, and perhaps always has been, the city of Sigil, itself shaped like an enormous hollow wheel. Sigil's Lady of Pain has seen much in her unnumbered millennia. Now she has something new to watch--You. Be sure to give her a good show, hmm?
***
This tavern, which its sign calls The Wild Rumpus and its regulars call The Rump, is located more or less between the Lower Quarter and the Hive. It is an old building, hidden in the shadows of more recently reconstructed edifices. The current owner claims that it has existed largely unchanged since the days of the Syrneth, though it's more likely that it was chiseled out of the city's interior much later as the inhabitants started running out of space, like many buildings in and around the Hive. Regardless of its origins, today the Rump is a popular watering hole among the less affluent Exalted of Sigil, known for its wide variety of potent (and low-quality) liqueurs, and for having walls and furnishings so tough that they are sometimes said to have been alloyed with darksteel. Taken together, this makes it one of the few places in the Wheel where almost all kinds of Exalts can not only get drunk, but enjoy bar fights without demolishing the bar.
It is also where you are all meeting with your employer, and where your employer is meeting you.

[User] #Rass steps into the Rump, the bustle of the happy revelers reminds #Rass of blessed static. He grins st the rumble and walks to the rear of the bar. #Rass's red robes flutter as he walks, slowly soaking in the muttering of the crowds.

[User]
 Tristan had to admit he was not in his scene right now. Why the contact had chosen this place to meet and not, as he had suggested, somewhere more respectable was a question that was constantly going on his mind. It was a good thing he had hired Oril as his personal bodyguard for the goliath's very presence seemed to dissuade the worst of the locals from making an attempt at mugging him. Short of being a navigator and having a Space Wolf as a personal bodyguard, he couldn't think of a better werewolf to have around for protection.

Once finally inside, he took a seat at one of the empty tables and started counting the seconds towards his contact's arrival.

[User]
 Passing through the tiny people, Oril finally find a seat big enough for him near his employer.

" We're early, right? That's why he isn't here yet. "

He poses his gigantic weapon on a nearby table, miraculously empty - and definitely not because of the giant placing stuff here.

 Spoiler: OOC
That may sound obvious, but Oril is not very bright ><

[User]
 "Something like that, yes. If you want to order something while we wait, just put it on my tab."

He looked at his comm-link, seeing if any messages were waiting.

[User]
 Rahn approached the table as well, grumbling while her legs and boots tapped out a quick staccato against the bar's metallic floor. Unfortunately for her, this was about as loud a stomping she could manage in her much lighter frame, the sound nearly drowned out beneath that of a busy bar.   "Underage drinking? I'll show him underage, that slaaneshi warp-boat scum-hole of a grumble mumble grumble..."   the cursing puttered out in inaudible mumblings by the time she neared the table. The tankard in her hand swelled with something fruity, nowhere near her drink of choice. Then again, a tankard of her drink of choice at this time would probably knock her flat out, not a good state to be in at this place.

Puberty sucks.

Especially as an elf since it threw your resistances towards a certain common intoxicant completely out of whack. There, an empty table! And then an oversized weapon was dropped at the table's surface, making it groan under the weight.

All right, deep breaths. She could deal with that.

[User]
 Why was a little girl sitting at their table ? She couldn't be older than.... what was the elven equivalent of 16 ? She really shouldn't be in this place, the poor tyke could get caught in a brawl and badly hurt.
"Hum, young lady, I do not think you should stay here. This bar has some rough customers... it might be best to leave... preferably before security inspect your "ID". "
She had to have used a fake ID to enter... or just sneaked in.

[User]
 " Wait, there was someone there? Oh. I'm sorry, little one. Here, let me remove that. "

He gently removes the weapon from the table, putting it somewhere where it won't take too much place. And not yet in someone's face.

[User]
 Could she deal with this? The large goliath had called her a "little one", fitting enough from his, what, three-point-two meters in height, or was it more? He was at least double her own height, likely more, and given her own "mere" 1.55 meters... De-aging sucks.

The young merchant  on the other hand...
  "Care to repeat that, hume?"   Rahn asked with her sweetest voice, cloaking the utter steel in her words. Her right eyebrow began to twitch slightly.   "Or did I simply mishear?"   The closest tables had quieted a bit at this, they wanted to listen in on what appeared to be a fight in the making. Something a few "ambitious" bouncers were looking to head off.

Gently setting her mug on the table, Rahn violently whirled around pointing at one of the approaching bouncers as he opened his mouth to speak.   "And you,"   she spat vehemently!   "My ID checked out at the door and both times you lit it in the bar so if you say anything about underage drinking, so help me..."

[User]
 The bouncers at the Wild Rumpus are all large, capable men and women, and the venom in the elf's voice gives the approaching dragonborn only momentary pause. "Not over here for that, miss," he says gruffly, "Just makin' sure you know the rules about fighting in here." He gestures to a large sign hung over the bar, which reads simply  Fighting? Keep it away from the booze! Your medicae costs are yours to pay.  He shrugs his hulking shoulders, then saunters back to the door, grumbling something about "Stupid newbies".

Suddenly, Tristan's comm-link chimes once, then its plain gray surface blurs and twists. It displays the words "Recorded Message Received" before showing the face of an eldarin in a scuffed void suit, his reedy, frail-looking features barely visible past its face mask. "Mister Liao, If you're seeing this, it means that I won't be able to meet you today," he hisses in a harsh whisper which, thankfully, only Tristan and those at the same table can hear, his eyes shifting nervously to something just off-screen. "The prototype worked, but that's exactly the problem. I'm holed up in (a location flashes across the screen and is immediately converted to a set of directions--on the ice planet Stygia, in Baator). Come quickly. They won't wait much longer."
Then the screen goes blank again.

[User]
 Well someone didn't like being challenged he noticed as the teenage elf suddenly went on her high horses. Someone had a short fuse. Afraid of what getting in a fight with a teenage girl in public would do to his image, he chose to try and deescalate matters.
"Okay okay, no need to get angry over that."

The child became a secondary concern as his comm rang. The message was bad news. Things were about to become a bit chaotic. He was not looking forwards to Baator, one wrong word and one owed a soul to a demon.

"Friends, I fear our business here is over. We need to get back to the ship."

[User]
 Grabbing his weapon again, Orill stands up.

" We go then. "


[User]
 The streets of Dalvesh teem with activity as merchants ply wares in the markets, dock workers load and unload ships coming to and from far off shores, and patrols of guards keep the peace in the bustling city. Several guild halls stand out among the sandstone buildings that surround them, one in particular goes above and beyond for decoration. A cobblestone structure with a large hourglass on it's roof, tilted and slowly rotating, with the sand pouring endlessly and a greatsword piercing it's base. This is the symbol of the Champions of fate. Within this guild hall four new recruits wait upon their fifth member as he recieves their very first mission as a cohessive unit. The Half-Elf Khem-mes stands in a small room in front of a large desk as a Gnome with large goggles looks over some papers, which appear to be profiles of the members of Kehm-mes's group. The Gnome in question is Executor Bomble Fizzdrop, the overseer of the training for all newly formed teams.

 "A good mix of skills in this group. I see good things in your future. We hope your training went well, I didn't see any broken noses or noticeable bruises while you waited out there with the others so it seems you lot are ready for some real work. Hope you are tired of rat exterminations and missing pet cats. We've selected three jobs that suit your group's skills, but as their appointed team leader you get to pick which one you accept first. We can hold the other two jobs at the post board in the lounge should you want to give them a try, though take too long and they might get picked up by one of the other new groups. Take a look and make your choice."

The Executor passes over the three jobs for Khem-mes to pick from.

 Spoiler: Khem-mes only

 Unsettling Rumors
 Wanted:  Brave adventurers to investigate rumors of a monster lurking in the sewers under the docks.
 Contact:  Dock Master Brumen Redhoof.
 Reward:  370 gp, whatever is found while searching the sewers.

 Restless Dead
 Wanted:  Someone to look into corpses missing from my family's tomb.
 Contact:  Meketre San'Hulad, Heir to the San'Hulad estate, located at his home in the Palace District.
 Reward:  520 gp, an invitation for each party member to the next San'Hulad gala.

 Sandglass
 Wanted:  Astute explorers to find me an area where sandglass can be found regularly.
 Contact:  Ackindro Des'vlaht, Glass-smith extraordinaire. Can be found at my shop in the market district.
 Reward:  220 gold and 2 rare magical potions

[User]
 Sreng breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of the docks. While small by the standards of giants, he still towers over the general populace. He nods and smiles to any that give him a strange look.

 "It will be a good day. I can smell it. Also fish. I smell those too."  He rumbles with a satisfied nod.

[User] Bran, for his part, doesn't say much. He's not one for small talk. In fact, he seems perfectly still. Onlookers might be surprised to find out he was breathing. The life of a monk had taught Bran how to stand in place for long periods of time.

[User]
 Bird continues to stare intently into the crystal he uses to focus his spells while replying to Sreng.  "I do enjoy fish. Wonder if my magic would let catch them easier?"

Despite having inspected the crystal for hours on end the day he first received it, Bird still found himself consistently fascinated by every minor detail of the crystal. The fascination he felt toward the crystal was the reason he wanted it, after all.

[User]
 I must agree, today is a great day for work.  Khem-mes adds, with a slight smile on his face.

Khem mes's eyes scan the papers as he looks down on them, reading each detail acutely as possible.

 Here, these stolen corpses from various family owned burial sights. That is a travesty, and it would bring the families of those affected great joy of we were to bring them back. Any thoughts?

[User] "No objections here. Performing burial rights was one of the most important and prestigious responsibilities at the temple I used to work for."  Bird pauses, then apprehensively whispers another sentence:   "Probably why I never got it."

[User] Sreng nods.  "It is a good thing. I say yes. Likely dark wickedness involved."  Zombies taste terrible.

[User] Bran Nemeton nods.  "That seems like a good thing to do, yes. I'll tag along."

[User] Executor Bomble Fizzdrop nods as he takes the other two job postings to return them to the Job Board in the main lobbey of the guild hall.  "Then the job is yours. Come back when the job is completed and hand in the form to recieve recognition for it's completion. The individual that posted the job will likely give you the reward themself, but if not just inform me when you return and any difference in the reward will be made up for the group. You are free to take the job at your own pace. Good luck to you!"  He dismisses the group and they are now free to do as they please to complete the job.

[User] Sreng pauses in thought for a moment.  "I suppose the gravesites would be the first place to go, no?"

[User]
 Originally Posted by stack
 Sreng pauses in thought for a moment.  "I suppose the gravesites would be the first place to go, no?"

 Indeed. If fell magics were used in the creation of these walking dead, perhaps there could be some sort of residue left behind. Or if someone has been stealing these bodies for pleasure, perish the thought, or perhaps to rile up this family, there may be mundane clues there as well...

Khem-mes seems to ponder over these thoughts.

[User] Bird motions to the door slightly impatiently.  "Then let's go. We can continue discussing other possibilities on the way to the gravesites."


[User]
 Hello everyone
From the grand oak, a sly raven falls down to glide upon the winds, black and accursed wings spreading far wider than plausible, trailing the shadows in the style of a fine oil painting. Moonlight falls from it, as if it were a duck in a pond of pearl-hued light. It goes unnoticed, not one of the many humans below bothering to look up to see the thing, fell fowl disregarded entirely by the ignorant and unseeing mortal eye. It wouldn't matter if they did, their eyes weren't meant to see this, not in this form.

The beating of wings stops as the bird settles to a halt once more, aligning itself on another branch, in another place. The beady and foul eyes on it's face peer downwards into a window, watching the inhabitants. It can see the way in which destiny is woven so tightly about this place, the people inside. The scent of fox, strange flesh and after-rain are imprinted so deeply that it knows, clearly. There is change coming soon enough, and this change, in some way, will be brought about by the ones inside this place.

It can't attack here. It knows that in some way, it will not win this so easily. With a bloodcurdling caw that unsettles the local earth in mysterious ways, the bird takes off once more, making itself scarce before it is revealed.
Thanks


[User]
 The Outer Rim. The edge of the known universe, and the path to the unknown regions for those who wish to risk them. The Outer Rim has become even more a den of outlaws, and those who wish to lay low from the authorities since the empire has fallen. You can find almost any sort of person you need to in the outer rim if you look hard enough. Rogue droids, Imperial Loyalists, Bounty hunters, smugglers...if you can think of it, they're here somewhere.

This is where you can find our intrepid group of heroes. They've decided to take a bit of time to relax on Dantooine, a calm planet filled with flatlands and wildlife. You can mostly avoid trouble here as long as you don't go digging in the old jedi temple, which is a good way to get yourself killed by Laigreks.

There is little of interest left in Dantooine. The Ancient jedi temple has been plundered of anything valuable, and the force crystal cave has long since been depleted of anything. Basically, to the Galaxy at large, Dantooine has become a place you go to specifically because you  don't  want anything exciting to happen.

Except, that is, for people to give you strange requests for inter-planetary trips. Which is exactly what is happening today with your group. Two women have approached you. Both of them are young, you would guess in their mid-20s at most. One looks reasonably confident, the other looks scared.

The woman on the left is dressed in what you would guess is her favorite color, blue. She's wearing a hooded, long-sleeved shirt, and loose blue pants over what looks to be bandages. In fact, it's safe to assume that everything from her neck to her waist is covered in bandages, judging by her hands being covered as well. Whatever injuries she's taken seem to not be bothering her much, as she has on a kind smile. Her build looks lean but strong, and she towers a foot over her friend at nearly 6 and a half feet tall. Unlike the woman to her right, she seems to be completely bald, her eyebrows showing that the hair she used to have was platinum colored. She has soft, rather disarming features.

Her friend, on the other hand, doesn't look very comfortable being here. Her eyes are covered with a ceremonial cloth of some sort, and she's clinging tightly to the woman in bandages. She has on similar garb, purple this time. Her hair is a rather plain brown, and it doesn't look like she takes care of it very well, judging by how ragged it looks. Unlike her friend, she doesn't seem to have been injured in any way, possibly ever considering how smooth and unmarked what you can see of her skin is. She's dressed in long pants, comfortable shoes, and a loose shirt. She's clearly dressed more for comfort than formality, other than the oddly out of place ceremonial looking blindfold.

 "Greetings. I've been informed you might be willing to escort my friend and I somewhere. We're not from here, and I need to get her elsewhere for her health. What would you say to 2,000 credits apiece to take us elsewhere?"   She asks the crew.

[User] B3 was sitting down, enjoying a death stick as much as a self modified battle droid could, the mist slightly concealing the lights of his eyes. It wasn't the strangest request his crew had received, and 2000 credits was pretty sizable for just a simple person delivery. Of course, given the appearance of the two people it was unlikely to be that easy. Of course...it never was. He speaks up, digitized voice just a little static-y.   "EHH...I DON'T SEE ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT, MYSELF. I'VE GOT SOME QUESTIONS BEFORE WE CAN ACCEPT IT COMPLETELY, JUST SOME PRECAUTIONS, BUT IT SHOULD BE FINE. SO...WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK?"   B2 gestures to his crew around the table. Always important to show your hand when someone was hiring, after all. A perfect ragtag group of trustworthy meat if every there was one, and they didn't scare the client which was always a positive in his mind.

[User] "I think I want to know where you're going first,"  says Azrian, giving the two passengers a dismissive up-and-down glance. Two humans; one big one, one small timid one. Nothing terribly interesting. Except possibly the blindfold, who wears something like that? It doesn't look sturdy enough for proper eye protection, so she's not a Halsian or some other species with sensitive eyes...  "You want to go next door to Ord Mantell, sure, sounds fine to me. You want someplace on the other side of the galaxy, that'll cost you more. You want to head smack dab into the middle of Imperial space, kark off and find some other sucker. So what'll it be?"

[User]
 Bel Tarn shifts where he is seated a safe distance from B2's fumes, basking in the sun like a ripening mulberry. He's a slightly small Kel Dor in a worn and patched jumpsuit and an equally worn cloak. The black lenses covering his eyes make it difficult to tell exactly what he is looking at, but he briefly examines the women before turning to the droid.

 'I, for one, am in favour of helping some ailing lost souls find shelter. That's a precious luxury few have been able to find. However, I am in agreement with Miss Tsoris that knowing more about the situation would be prudent'  He turns his head towards the women  'I think we need to know why you are in danger. Something that places us at risk, such as a disease or a bounty on you, is something that we must consider in our decision'

[User] Ummar smiles broadly with both of his mouths, a slightly sinister look to those unaccustomed to it. He raps his fingers, unusually slender for an Ithorian, on the table in a rhythmic pattern.  "If it's medical assistance you need, I may be able to help. I'm quite happy to give you a consultation for a very reasonable price. If I can't treat it, no charge, I promise. I can also arrange for cybernetics, even on a budget, if that's what you need."  Ummar pauses.  "And, of course, transportation is an option too, subject to our collective approval."


[User]
 Orange cherry blossoms fall onto the azure grass as a green wind blows across the star covered field where the Lady and Her retinue have taken up camp. As another nothing star falls upon the Sometimes Plains, a great storm rushes across the horizon of chaos and all is quiet in the camp.

Then a burst of sound erupts and a rival raksha regiment marches towards Her Empyrean Madness, with the appropriate fanfare cascading across the fields. An ebon painted military strides gracefully and silently across the field until a herald rushes out from among them and proclaims,  "It is my humble honor to announce the arrival of his grace King Emerald Feathers Flashing Cross Argent Encloaked Skies which Obstruct the True Story and Through Such Obstruction Continues the Lie of Form, First of His Name, Breaker of Realities, Father of Untruths and Mother of Falsehoods, Duke of the Never Lands, and Bishop of Naught. Long may He reign and bless us with his presence."

Once the fanfare subsided, a regal figure strode across the cerulean greens and nodded to the Lady. His firey voice warmed even Her chilled skin," I come to challenge   the The Lady, Future   and Present Queen of   That Which Is Not ,  Queen of Nothing for   the title of Sovereign   of the Raksha. Her   claim to such a   title insults me and   Her very narrative is   an affront to mine   own. I demand satisfaction!"

[User]
 The Lady looks at Her challenger and sneers with such crystallized malice that the sight of such a sneer would freeze the hearts of even the most stalwart adventurer. The Queen of Nothing rises from her frozen throne and looks at Saya and nods. Her shadow grins wickedly and speaks for its Sovereign, "Although we do not recognize your authority...or even your worth, out of the infinite love we hold in our regal heart for all the children of chaos we do so accept your challenge so that you may worry no longer who is the true ruler of Rakshastan. But these fields are far too demure for such a slaughter, and so at the behest of my queen I shall remedy this situation and fix the scenery."

At once Saya flickers to and fro across the blue fields until at last it leaps into the air and for the briefest moment appears to float there. Then a red flash obscures its form and when the light fades, in its hand flickers a crimson thunderbolt roaring riotously. The Queen's Phantasm then falls to the ground and impales the field upon the red lightning which rips up the entire scene until it is nothing.

For a moment the audience watches as they can see nothing but themselves surrounded by the raw chaos of the Wyld. It is quiet. Almost peaceful.

Then the entire scene is once again awash with light, but not the ephemeral light of primordial bolts. Instead a light blue sky adorns the top of the scene, although the sun emitting the light is conspicuous in its absence such is the fear even the Queen holds of Sol Invictus.

But the extras are no longer in gentle repose on grass, instead they are loudly roaring for their Queen in the stands of the great Colosseum they now sit in. As large as a city, the stands are still packed to the brim with those wishing victory for their Queen and jeering at the false King.

The "King" and Saya now stand upon shimmering sand which is ever mercurial in its color, shifting from the normal tan to pink to black and back again.

Its task now finished, Saya bows at her sovereign who sits in Her Imperial box. The Lady winks at her humble servant and nods to express her demure satisfaction at the work of her junior.

 Spoiler: It's a shame behemoths don't get charms
Sword Shaping Attack on the scene

Strength (6)+ Presence (4)+ Acc (2):  (12d10)[ 1 ][ 10 ][ 5 ][ 1 ][ 6 ][ 2 ][ 6 ][ 8 ][ 7 ][ 8 ][ 1 ][ 6 ](61)

stunt:  (2d10)[ 5 ][ 6 ](11)

[User]
 Emerald Feather frowns and nods at his herald, not wishing to be seen dirtying his own regal hands on such a lowly feat. Moving like a shadow, the King's Ebon Herald darts around the arena laying permit violation after permit violation across the arena. After a moment's work the herald stops, taking upon a form more concrete than ephemera  and looks upon its work. Seeing its task completed, it snaps it fingers and bows before its regal lord.

The sky turns to night and the Colosseum vanishes, replaced by an opulent throne room which would beggar even the richest of Yu-Shan divinities. The evening light hides behind a radiant stained glass window which depicts the Lord's tale. The floor is marble and the tapestry-carpet is adorned by gossamer braziers which heat the room, warming the court which whispers scandalous rumors about the veracity, or lack there-of, of the Lady's claim.

The court is all a titter at imperial presence of King Emerald Feathers Flashing Cross Argent Encloaked Skies which Obstruct the True Story and Through Such Obstruction Continues the Lie of Form, First of His Name, Breaker of Realities, Father of Untruths and Mother of Falsehoods, Duke of the Never Lands, and Bishop of Naught while whispering how surely the Lady cannot the Sovereign of the Raksha with such a small name. They laugh in their heavy furs and gossip across the smoke filled room.

 Spoiler: Act 1, Scene 2

Staff Shaping attack on the scene

 (10d10)[ 8 ][ 10 ][ 10 ][ 6 ][ 3 ][ 10 ][ 10 ][ 1 ][ 6 ][ 10 ](74)

[User]
 As the laughs reach Her ears, the Lady stands and breaths in deeply. The air surrounding her chills, and this cold front spreads across the room; extending Her shining influence in this dark den of burning inequity. With a voice as cold as the vacuum of space, she breaks the frozen silence now infecting the room," Very well. We will duel   in your little throne room.   Ready yourself pretender!"

Music begins the fill the room, a steady dull beating drum as the two royalties walk towards eachother and bow the merest fraction of an inch. The Lady gracefully twists around in the air, Her feet never deigning to touch the cursed court while King Emerald Feather turns with such celerity that his heels singe the carpet beneath them.

In union the Queen's Phantasm and the King's Herald count down once their lieges reach five paces from the center, "1."
 "2"
 "3"
 "4"
 "5"
 "6"
 "7"
 "8"
 "9"
 "10! Pa  ces, fire!"

 Spoiler: Most Disputes Die and Nobody Shoots
Join Shaping (the Lady)  (8d10)[ 8 ][ 2 ][ 9 ][ 7 ][ 8 ][ 3 ][ 4 ][ 4 ](45)
Join Shaping (King Emerald Feather)  (8d10)[ 1 ][ 1 ][ 8 ][ 6 ][ 5 ][ 3 ][ 6 ][ 9 ](39)

[User]
 But the Lady does not fire, for it is not in her nature to be so explosive. Rather she gusts forth like a cyclone from the frigid North to encase Her foes in ice. The millisecond the word "ten" leaves the lips of Saya and the herald, she unleashes but a sliver of Her infinite glory before the huddled masses in the hall.

And so she speaks to all those in the hall, but she speaks without speaking and in so doing so allows her imperial anima to speak for her as the shining light illuminates the foolish gossip-mongers of folly and the perfidy of their "King."

Then with a wordless gaze, She focuses Her entire stately prestige at the raksha who had deluded itself that it was more than Her equl, but that it was Her superior. A burst of light fills the room and once it fades, the pretend-king falls to his knees now aware of the gravity of his absurdity.

 Spoiler: Attack 1, Scene 2

flurrying Staff-shaping action, activating Endless Armies of the Storm (5m, 1wp) and First Staff Excellency (x10) (10m) (5/20 motes remaining, 4/5wp remaining)

First Attack: Manipulation (8)+Occult (6)+Excellency (5): (19d10)[ 6 ][ 2 ][ 9 ][ 3 ][ 10 ][ 5 ][ 5 ][ 2 ][ 8 ][ 8 ][ 2 ][ 4 ][ 4 ][ 7 ][ 4 ][ 5 ][ 5 ][ 7 ][ 2 ](98)
Second Attack:  (19d10)[ 3 ][ 4 ][ 7 ][ 1 ][ 10 ][ 4 ][ 5 ][ 9 ][ 7 ][ 6 ][ 8 ][ 8 ][ 2 ][ 10 ][ 6 ][ 5 ][ 9 ][ 1 ][ 9 ](114)

stunt: (1d10)[ 1 ](1)

[User]
 As Her glory washes over the throne room, Emerald Feathers does not rise from its fallen state. Instead it remains, pressed to the floor and shouts, "I submit, victory is   yours."
 "So you cede your title?"
 "Nay, but I do   cede this title fight."
 "So you cede this fight   for the title, but not   the title itself."
 "Yes."
 "Then the   fight continues."
 "Yes."

Leaping up in between the blink of an eye, King Emerald Feathers leaps up and as he does, squads of hobgoblins materialize.  "Guards! Guards!   Seize this pretender!"

And at his behest, the monstrous minotaurs charge at the Lady with their infernal horns attempting to mar Her perfect personage. Countless guards pour forth, an endless horde of minions willing to die for their noble, regal master.

 Spoiler: Somewhere Vimes is wondering what happened this time
Emerald Feather's is now snared and cannot perform Staff shaping actions

Sword Shaping action

 (16d10)[ 5 ][ 3 ][ 3 ][ 7 ][ 2 ][ 3 ][ 9 ][ 10 ][ 10 ][ 8 ][ 9 ][ 6 ][ 6 ][ 3 ][ 1 ][ 1 ](86)

stunt  (1d10)[ 3 ](3)

[User]
 For an instant it looks as if the Queen of Nothing might fall, and the Lady might lose Her crown. Wave after wave of crude matter clash against Her blade and claw at Her Imperial personage.

But then She grins, and in an instant She just ignores the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and in doing so they vanish. She dodges blade after blade, time slowing and a dull drum beating slowly in the background as She does so. Her foes move as if in quicksand, their blades always just missing Her royal forme.

In an instant the Lady closes in on Emerald Feathers but even it is too slow to react as it swipes impotently at Her. As time continues to slow and arrows move through the air at a glacial pace, crimson light darts into the room ignoring such meaningless limitations such as time.

The bloody bolt in Her hand, She then in an instant impales the pretender on its raw energy.

 Spoiler: Boolet Time

Sword Shaping attack

Dex (7)+Dodge (7)+Acc (2): (16d10)[ 9 ][ 4 ][ 8 ][ 9 ][ 1 ][ 8 ][ 6 ][ 9 ][ 9 ][ 10 ][ 8 ][ 9 ][ 2 ][ 3 ][ 3 ][ 6 ](104)
Stunt:  (2d10)[ 4 ][ 3 ](7)

[User]
 For a moment, the court is silent and no onlooker speaks as the Emerald Feathers lies dead. Impaled atop its throne of fantasy by solid red lightning.

As its corpse begins to cool, the Lady vexes away the Emerald King's regal Staff. Only She would be allowed the title of Monarch and what was a monarch without their scepter? The Emerald Feathers' Staff is an opulent affair; a long golden rod adorned at the top with an open golden oval upon which emerald feathers have been strung.

As She looks over the staff, a laugh begins to fill the room. A laugh coming from the Emerald King's corpse.

Sighing loudly, the Lady looks at the corpse and then returns to inspecting the rod carefully as She attunes it to her being.

The corpse continues to laugh.

Finally the corpse springs back to life again and then winks out of existence only to be replaced with a young man a tanned skin and firey red hair...literally in the case of the hair. It is dressed in a plain white robe and wears a cape made out of a dazing array of feathers of many kinds of birds, all emerald. Around its neck it wears a gaudy, emerald encrusted necklace made out of silver while at its hip is a platinum rapier.

It takes the Lady's hand and kneeling, kisses it.  "I do so renounce   my claim to the   title of Sovereign, my    Lady. I do pray    that my Staff will   be in safe hands?"
 "Of course, I extend such   protection to all my subjects   should they swear fealty."
 "Alas my loyalty is   pledged elsewhere but I   do swear that I   shall not attempt to   steal your title or   my Staff away from   you."
 "Or to assist or otherwise   direct any other party to   do so?"
 "...of course my Lady,   so do I pledge."


[User]
 Spoiler: Charter
Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged
by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and
authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the
Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel
within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration
should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and
west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of
this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful
behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry
remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this
24th day of Calistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov
and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of
the Dragonscale Throne.

 https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets...gid=1349854484

You start just outside of Oleg's Trading post. Each of you as answered a call from he city of Restov to aid in exploring the Stolen Lands. Oleg and Svetlana have spent the past few months rebuilding the old fort.

As you enter the fort Svetlana welcomes you warmly.  Greetings adventurers! We have hearty stew, warm bread and I have even opened a couple bottles of wine to thank you for coming to our aid. My husband is off doing some work around the post at the moment and will join us shortly.

[User]
 Tsalith

Tsalith bows to Svetlana.  " Thank you my dear.  Your hospitality is most well received.  My name is Tsalith. ."

 Spoiler: Crunch

Diplomacy  (1d20+10)[ 16 ]

[User]
 Brendan keeps to the middle back of the group that's formed to conquer the stolen lands. He is not sure what to make of them yet, what strengths they have and what skills they bring. He stays quiet, letting Tsalith take the lead.

Thiro circles above the compound, keeping watch for any danger or hiding people.

[User]
 The icy blue hair fellow moves to get some of the previously mentioned wine and stew. While his rough and hawkish and streaks of white hair make him appear old many other traits, manly his attitude and young looking body, travel he's in fact possibly one of the more youthful here.

"  aaahhh...... hospitality. I think I will take you up on that wouldn't want to work on an empty stomach. "

He keeps an eye on the others that came here as well. Personally, he thought they may think of him as an extreme oddity, if not a risk. He frankly did not care though.....he was here doing what he had done before, and probably would forever.. eliminating problems, by the nessisary means.

He then noticed he was not the only weirdo in the group. He smiled, though the one ddid look like someone who might sneeze sunshine or something equally unsettling.

[User]
 Alistair joined the rest of the group and grabbed one of each " Thank you kindly ma'am " he clumsily trying not to spill the food and wine and dug into his coin pouch.
" Whom may I thank for the food that was prepared today? "

[User] Oh its just something I threw together. And you can put away your coin this is just something to eat while we talk business. We have a bit of a bandit problem. Come on lets eat and we will talk.  Svetlana goes over to the stables where Oleg is working on the roof and yells up to him  Oleg get your butt down here and eat some lunch and talk with these adventurers

[User]
 Tsalith

Tsalith sits at the table, helps himself to some food and pours wine for any who do not have wine before pouring some himself.

[User] " Yes ma'am, thanks for the hospitality. " Alistair  heads overy to the tables and begins eating.

[User] "Good hospitality to me is when someone doesn't kill me on sight"  he grumbles quietly but enjoys the hospitality provided anyway  "Thankyou sir for this, I don't get it very often. My name is Cad"  as he accepts the wine Tsalith poured with a smal thankyou and helps himself to some food. Between mouthfuls of food he asks the host  "Bandits your say? I take it you would want us to deal with them?"  Whoever "us" may be as he knew little about the rest of the group.

[User]
 Originally Posted by Coretron03
  "Bandits your say? I take it you would want us to deal with them?"  Whoever "us" may be as he knew little about the rest of the group.

He grinned.

" oh good. I was waiting myself to ask but never was one for timing. So tell us...who needs to be iced? "

Apparently, he had judged the pretty boy to quickly.....maybe they were right with the whole "don't judge a book by it's cover" thing.

[User] Well a couple of months ago a of bandits showed up and demanded protection money. They Should be back tomorrow for their monthly cut. We can offer free room and board for the night if you will help us. if you have any questions about the bandits just ask.

[User]
 Tsalith

Tsalith nods.  " Of course we will help, this is unacceptable.  How many bandits are there? "

[User] "Protection money, that's  so  original..."  he adds when he says thatsomewhat, then responds to Tsalith  "while I agree it probably best if we learn each others names and what we all "do" such before we do that. I'm Cad and I kill man further then you could see"  as he pats his crossbow.

[User]
 Originally Posted by Coretron03
  "Protection money, that's  so  original..."  he adds when he says thatsomewhat, then responds to Tsalith  "while I agree it probably best if we learn each others names and what we all "do" such before we do that. I'm Cad and I kill man further then you could see"  as he pats his crossbow.

He nods. "  call me Frostbite. I sm the professional sorcerer here. I solve problems. *sip*"

[User]
 Oleg comes down and finally joins the party. Nice of you to finally join us. Why don't you fill these nice people in about the bandits.

Oleg gets some stew and bread and some wine and settles in.  Well the first time there were 12 of them. 10 lackeys, a crude man, and a woman. The woman seemed to be in charge and threatened to "shorten my reach." She had a dark sense of humor. the way she smiled when she spoke of what fate would await Svetlana if we didn’t comply frightened Svetlana all the more. This last time only the crude man and 4 lackeys came by. Maybe they think we are cowed and will bring even less. But even if only one lackey came by we are not fighters.

[User]
 Tsalith

Tsalith nods at Oleg's words." Whether they bring less or not we will use their arrogance against them.  "

" My name is Tsalith, I carry the blood of dragons in my veins and am blessed by Apsu. "

[User]
 Ameira

Ameira looks around at everyone introducing themselves.  She was not really used to being part of the conversation, but maybe that is a thing of the past.  Tsalith had told her she was important here and brought skills they needed.  She was a member of the team.
" I ... am Amiera.  I specialize at getting in and out of places unseen. "

[User]
 Originally Posted by HappyMerecat
  Ameira

Ameira looks around at everyone introducing themselves.  She was not really used to being part of the conversation, but maybe that is a thing of the past.  Tsalith had told her she was important here and brought skills they needed.  She was a member of the team.
" I ... am Amiera.  I specialize at getting in and out of places unseen. "

" Huh? Id say.... " he says, trying to figure out where the hell she came from.

[User]
 Brendan just observes for a time, letting the others talk. His eye keeps going back to Cad. He's never known goblins to be particularly... civilized. He keeps his thought to himself. No need upsetting a friend.

The group was bigger than he expected, but the more there are the safer they should be. After Amiera introduces herself, Brendan speaks up with a confident stance.  "And I am Brendan, a mage. I specialize in more unique kinds of magic."  He smiles warmly at the group.

After introductions he returns to the subject of the bandits.  "If there's only a few of them this time, we should make sure not too many people are visible. We don't want to alert them to any change from the routine."

[User]
 Originally Posted by hand ax ranger
 " Huh? Id say.... " he says, trying to figure out where the hell she came from.

Cad rolls his eyes  "typical human senses lacking in every way, although for me thats a postive..."  he thinks to himself.

 Originally Posted by Xunthrae
 After introductions he returns to the subject of the bandits.  "If there's only a few of them this time, we should make sure not too many people are visible. We don't want to alert them to any change from the routine."

 "Agreed, we should find a spot that we could ambush them from afar to conceal numbers. "  he replies, ignoring the fact few of them have visible range weaponary as he's not exactly the best with "teamwork"

[User]
 Well let us finish here and I will show you to your rooms.
 You can hide in the barn when they come tomorrow

[User]
 Originally Posted by oono
  Well let us finish here and I will show you to your rooms.
 You can hide in the barn when they come tomorrow

"  Sounds good... I'll climb up on top and rain icy doom upon them. "

[User]
 Tsalith

Tsalith nods.  " I would rather we speak to the bandits rather just just killing them.  I have known a few bandits in my time and more than a few are forced into it, but we can discuss tactics in the morning. "
" Thank you again ma'am for the wonderful meal. "

 Ameira

Ameira looks at Brendan when he mentions being a mage.  She would have to talk to him and see if he could teach her anything.


[User]
 Shadow accepts the hug with a smile. And then, as Love turns towards her work, the entire world grows distant, as if she's looking at it from the other end of a long tunnel. She hears herself humming happily and setting about hooking up the machinery, occasionally making a friendly comment to Shadow.

Right before panic sets in, a claw taps her on the shoulder and she finds herself staring into the mismatched eyes and crazed grin of Discord.

"Good morning, my favorite little gearhead," he says, putting her in a headlock and rubbing her mane, "How are you doing?"

[User]
 Love is more used to seeing herself from an outsiders perspective than most any other pony, but this is something different. She wasn't watching herself from another body. It felt like she was being pulled away from the present. She turns around as a claw taps on her shoulder.

She stares up at the two mismatched eyes. "Discord!" She squirms her forelegs against the headlock, not in resistance, so she can grab his arms in a hug. She nuzzles him. "Good morning, my favorite discord! I'm doing wonderful! I'm in a hugging mood! How are you doing? Well?"

[User]
 He chuckles and releases her to float alongside him. "Me? Oh, I've been better. Much, much better. I fear my age is catching up with me." He pats her on the head. "But that's not important right now."

He gestures vaguely with one claw. "I hope you weren't expecting someone bluer and moonier. This is only a daydream after all."

[User]
 She gasps. "No! You should just make yourself young again."

Love tries to lay on her back and do backstrokes around him. "It's the middle of the day isn't it? I can't sleep in. The boss pony will yell at me. Anywho, I don't sleep much at all anymore. I guess that means I don't get too many chances to see the beautiful moon." Love pouts. "Too much work to do. So, what can the lovely Love do for you? To improve your day?"

[User]
 "Pfft," he says, "Age is merely a matter of perspective." Love feels something poke her back and turns to see a spyglass looking at her.

"Weeeeell," he says with a grin, "There's a tiny little detail I remembered which I thought might help you on your...quest. Are you writing this down?"

[User]
 "Exactly! I don't even know how old I am. Am I 28 plus 5 hours or 64? Who knows? You know what they say about too much work. Ha, I'm daydreaming in the middle of it! You need more chaos in your life! Ouch." Love feels around her back and pulls the spyglass in front of her. "Heh. I get it."

She sits up and starts to write with the spyglass. "I spy my mental notes." She smiles big. "Which quest? I'm pulled twelve ways here."

"I always have an ear out for a friend."

[User]
 "Hmm, maybe 'mission' is a better word," he says, momentarily donning the appearance of a certain character from a franchise known for their impossible missions. He chuckles and snaps his claw, returning to normal. He leans forward, resting his head on his mismatched paw and claw. "You see, I may have already tried to fight Andromeda. And while she will say she won, it was only a tactical retreat!"

He shudders. "The forces of  Order  are just so strong around her and her kind. They sap away my natural chaos and charisma! But before I made my tactical retreat, I left behind a little chink in her armor. A little seed of weakness that should be springing up right about now."

"I taught her cold, starry heart what it means to feel love. And from what I've gathered, it's wreaking havoc on her."

[User]
 Love nods to him. At the mention of his tactical retreat, she rests her chin on her forelegs and pouts.

"Discord... " A sad tale. "No one holds up on Discord for long! A bout is not the match!"

Love moves her hoof to rub the back of her mane. "You taught her love?" She tries to do an in place barrel roll. "That's quite the interesting weakness. Causing havoc, you say? That sounds like you." She smiles big. "What does she love? What does her heart desire?"

[User] He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, a delighted smile on his face. "That's the kicker," he says with a snicker, "She's in love with Polaris himself! The Lord of Stars."

[User]
 Love gasps. "What!? No!"

"HR is going to have a huge issue with this. Office romances rarely go well!" She sits up again and enters a serious thinking pose. "She is in love with Polaris. I don't know much about her so I'm not sure how to apply that weakness yet." Love nods her head to him. "Thanks for the information! I won't let your efforts go to waste!"

"Lord of the Stars... Polaris..."

[User] He scowls. "Before you ask, no. I don't know where he is. I kept tabs on him for years and then, a little over two decades ago, he pulls a 'me' and vanishes! Poof, gone!" He sighs. "Oh, Celly gave me grief for that one."

[User]
 Love sticks her tongue out. "I know better than to ask stuff like that!" Love tries to reach out and grab his larger hand. "You're doing what you can to help everypony. You'll tell me what I need to hear. I only need to listen." She pats his hand, lets go, and returns back to backstrokes.

A hint of remorse in her voice and a pout. "Andromeda has a lovely voice. I've heard her sing on the radio. It's shame that I have to grapple her."

[User]
 Discord puts a paw to his chest and sniffs. “Why Love! I think you warmed my heart a little bit.” He opens his chest like an old boiler and she sees ice sloughing off a hearts-and-hooves style heart.

He chuckles. “Careful with that. She’s slippery, that one. And not above a few dirty tricks. Unusual for a creature of order. Maybe there was a little chaos in her all along.”

[User]
 Love chuckles at the magical display. "I'll warm you up anytime you need a defrosting!" She raises her eyebrows at the thought of all that ice. "You might need a little more than a defrosting after that display. I'll be your bondfire if you ever need a warm hug." She smiles and displays herself reaching out, her forelegs outstretched, in front of her toward empty space.

"Me be careful?" She lets out a strained elongated, "Hmm." "I'll try my best to be careful." She gives him a hoofs up. "I want everypony to go home happy. If she plays a dirty trick, I'll try my best not volunteer for the part of the victim. Heh. A little bit of harmony you'd say?" She chuckles.

[User]
 "No," he says seriously, "There's nothing about her that is in..." Old habits die hard. He forces the next word out. "Harmony. The little bits of chaos are putting up a brave fight, but they're fighting with her boring, hum-drum orderly mind. Bringing a little light and creativity!" He cackles.

"Also, she doesn't write her own songs."

[User]
 Love tries to pat his back to help him get the word out.

She gasps at the reveal. "No!" "It must be very hard to write your own song without any chaos. That's where the magic happens. Random ideas, thoughts. They all get thrown out there to be crafted into a beautiful piece."

"I can imagine the struggle within her mind, but I don't know if that image is correct. Are chaos and order element-like in the sense that they are more tangible than an idea? It's a weird hypothetical to me. It makes me wonder if everything is tangible." Love puts her hoofs to her head. "I should have taken more magic courses!"

[User] "Well, I'll try and come up with a metaphor for your more physics-oriented brain, hmm?" A classroom appears out of the aether, "Imagine Order and Chaos as two forces. Like gravity and magnetism." A spinning orb appears in front of Love's desk. "When they are in balance, you have har-- Harmony. But if they are not..." The orb begins to spin and wobble crazily. "Then everything goes berserk."

[User]
 "Heh. If I accept the premise, I can vaguely glimpse the idea." She pushes down the globe. "I just didn't know that's how the world worked. I didn't know that a pony could put chaos bits in a pony like you did. I need to find a teacher for all this meta stuff. I thought I knew how the world worked in theory, but you've done something that exists outside of my understanding. It has me all excited!"

She puts a hoof to her chin and starts speaking with a fiery passion. "I have to learn more about the world. I need to know how the world works. I need to know the rules to play the game." She raises a hoof to him. Without her noticing, a smile has started to creep upon her face. "I want to be able to do what you did. I want to be able to shape reality. I want magic, chaos, law, etc. to be at my hoof tips."

[User] Discord cackles and pats Love on the head. "Oh you are adorable, my little pony. But I'm afraid that you can only harness order with science. It takes magic to work chaos!" At the word 'chaos', a ripple passes through the world. It is at once everything and nothing, with no discernible distinction between forms or substances.

[User]
 Love puts on a mock cute face as he pats her.

That distortion is beyond her mental bearing's capability, but she tries to tough it out in the name of good fun. Her head feels dizzy. Love stands on her back hoofs and curls her forelegs into a cliche mad laughing pose. "Mwhahaha."

"Order through science. Chaos through magic. Got it!" A pang hits Love right in the horn gut area, thing. Not that she fully remembers, she figures this is how it must have felt to lose her horn. It feels like she just lost something brand new for the first time. That chaos is getting further out of her reach. That magic may never be hers to claim again.

She covers with another mock laugh as she tries to calm herself. "Mwhahaha" She tries her hardest not to sadden into hopelessness. No! She can do it! She can grab chaos and magic for her own use! Nothing is out of reach! She tells herself that anyway.

She'll harness order and chaos in perfect harmony! Magic is never out of reach for a pony. Everything has magic in it! There is always a way! Love always finds a way!

[User]
 "Well there may be soooome overlap," he says teasingly, "but science is about figuring out all the, ahem, ins and outs..." His eyes roll into his skull, switch places, and come back out, "Of how the world works. Magic is about imposing your will on it."

"But who am I to crush somepony's dreams?"

[User]
 Love puts a hoof on her waist and puts her other hoof up to wag at him. "Are you reading my mind!? Wait, are we inside my mind, right now?"

Love raises her forelegs in the air. "That settles it! I'm going to learn how to control magic! I'll  will  it to happen!"

She gives him a big old smile. "Ha! Crushing? I should be thanking you! A little of the fog surrounding my progress has cleared, and I've corrected my course!" She puts a hoof up to her mouth and laughs, "Mwhahaha!"

[User]
 In a flash, Discord dons a suit and the attitude of a stuffy butler. He bows, bending his elongated body almost completely in half. "I live to serve, my dear." He can't keep a straight face and the suit disintegrates as he falls into a giggling fit.

"Well, I suppose I should send you back now," he says with a wink.

[User]
 Love giggles onto her back in laughter in a funny fit.

With some regret she says, "I suppose."

She straightens up in the void and puts her arms up into a V shaped, putting her body in a Y shaped, victory pose from one of his characters.

"Let's go create some chaos!"

[User] Aaaaand Scene!


[User]
 The bandits of Kashim-Tar, so called because they holed up in the old Kashim-Tar castle, are in your sights. Well... The castle is. You can see a few torches, held by the guards patrolling the outside. The land around the castle used to be clear, but brush and bushes have grown up to the walls in the years since it was abandoned.

What will you do?

[User]
 I believe I could try making myself invisible, and fly over it.  Natalie offered.

 It would provide some info on their numbers, tactics etc.  She says stretching her large wings as she continued.

[User] Valeryon nods.   "That sounds like a good idea.  While you're doin' that, I could sneak up through the brush and try'n check for places to, like, sneak in easier."

[User]
 Barrig "Blue Bear" Ironfur, Level 5 Dwarven Bearbearian
  Caution is fine, I suppose, but if ye happen to spot a nice quiet section on top of the wall, I can likely leap up there without much fuss, and ye can fly, so we could drop a rope down for the others.

Barrig activates his Ring of Jumping as a bonus action, tripling his jump distances.

 Spoiler
With a running start of 10ft, this makes his long jump 72ft and his high jump 30ft. Without a running start, halve those values.

[User]
 Moss
  "Well"   The halfling said, pulling a scraggly wicker broom from his pack.   "I'll follow Valeryon up for moral support and perhaps I can get a pot shot off at whoever's in charge."

Adjusting his face mask he also notes   "OR, i can sneak in and disguise myself and get some of the people inside talking. OR while in there I can case a little ruckus and distract them?"

 Spoiler: OOC
Pull out my broom and mount it.

[User]
 Valeryon looks around and shrugs.   "Nothin' ventured, nothin' gained,"  he says, and begins to stalk through the brush towards the castle.

 Spoiler
Stealth to move through the brush quietly:   (1d20+11)[ 21 ]

[User]
 The bandits patrol around, but none take notice of the subtle rustling of the bushes. If they do, well, there's some wind. It's only natural.

It takes some eight minutes to find a proper path towards the edge of the castle walls, since brush can be sparse at points, but soon enough, Valeryon is there. Since most guards are patrolling the crenelations, he should be able to simply walk underneath the parapet towards an entrance-however, there were guards at the entrances.

[User]
 When he gets close to the castle, Valeryon pulls out a small stone slab and some chalk from his bag.  Now, Valeryon is self-aware enough to know that numbers...aren't  exactly  his strongest suit.  Counting above ten hurts his brain.  But tick-marks aren't numbers!  Yay for simplicity!

Valeryon makes his way around the castle, quiet and hidden as best he can.  When he sees a new guard, he makes a mark on the stone slab.  After he has made his way around the castle, he returns to his fellows.

 Spoiler
Another Stealth, if needed:   (1d20+11)[ 16 ]

[User] I really should have made him invisible....  Natalie commented.

[User] "Would've help."   Moss agreed, twirling his broom in one hand.

[User]
 Spoiler: OOC
I'm gonna call for just ONE MORE Stealth check-one for getting there (done), one for getting around the castle walls (done), and then one for getting back.

 (1d20+11)[ 18 ]

When he returns, he has a marking of about 12 visible guards.

[User] Valeryon returns to his comrades, looking proud of his eventless excursion.   "Looks like there are...er..."   After a second, he holds up the slab for the others to see.   "This many guards."

[User]
 "Twelve , its twelve ..."   Moss said; circling the marks with his finger.

   Which means 3 kills apiece to kill those that you saw."

Holding up three fingers to Valeryon.   "So for each kill you get after that makes each of our lives infinitely easier. So me and you can take out the lookouts first and the rest of the party can sweep in to finish them off."

Lifting his mask abit to show his wide smile to him, he says   "Ready to get started?"

 Spoiler: OOC
Yes, the poor grammar is part of his normal speech pattern.

[User] Natalie who had facepalmed at the failure of twelve, just nods.

[User]
 Barrig "Blue Bear" Ironfur, Level 5 Dwarven Bearbearian

Barrig nods at Natalie knowingly.   "Aye, but 'Failure of Twelve' be a good name for the ballad t'will be written about what's to come."

Hefting his greataxe over one of his shoulders, his orange mohawk standing proudly against the breeze, the  blue tattoos covering Barrig's exposed chest begin to glow slightly at the prospect of battle.

  "Where should we start? I cen't promise te be quiet 'bout it once I bring forth the bear."

[User] We should try to box them out, so that I may try my fireball.  Natalie replied.

[User]
 Valeryon nods along to Moss' explanation, at least appearing to understand.  But as their dwarven companion and sorceress begin to speak, he feels the pressure begin to build behind his eyes once more.  Too much talking about what could be done instead of doing.  Their shared newfound ability to, er, "reset" may have brought up some existential questions, but it has one perk:  mistakes mean a little less for them.

 "I'm gonna take out one of the side gate guys.  Iffin we all take the ground guys out first, we can move onto the top guys next."

He says it matter-of-factly, and a solid ten seconds later he makes good on his word.  He creeps back into the underbrush, circling around toward the further away side gate.

 Spoiler
Stealth:   (1d20+11)[ 24 ]

[User] Valeryon moves like a shadow in the night, and soon, is approaching the eastern side gate. There's a bored-looking man there, holding a torch and yawning. At his side is a small blade, and strapped to his back a crossbow.

[User]
 Barrig, meanwhile, moves more like a foghorn through a library, so makes his way as cautiously as he can through the brush, to a position roughly 70ft from the side guard, re-activates his Ring of Jumping, and prepares to leap into battle.

 edit: botched roll syntax, will double post with rolls

[User]
 Spoiler: Rolls

Initiative:  (1d20)[ 19 ]
Stealth:  (1d20)[ 16 ]

[User] Natalie for her part mutters a few arcane words as her dress starts shimmering with a white energy.


[User]
 Your day has just gotten worse, visiting a small town called Irying, you simply wanted to take a break from your travels and get some food but it Seems some goblins have other ideas!

Assuming you want to beat the goblins for anything from ruining your nice day, to for the pure fact they are attacking the small town, do the rolling for initiative things!

[User]
 cloaked male figure tosses his cloak to the ground reviling a large Rogaden  with short black hair, wearing light armor. Pulls out his long/short swords looks at everyone smirking "I've got this"
 19 on Initiative.

[User]
 Twitching her tail, Elissar  smirked cooly as she continued to count her stolen loot. "They're all yours then."

Roll: 16

[User]
 Innis Cane, a long limbed wood elf with unkempt brown hair, gives a small shrug as he rises to his feet. His is clad in rugged leather armor and a heavy green cloak. He leans on the shaft of his longbow and gives a sardonic smile as the shaggy wolf at his side lets out a low growl.

"Alright, Jax," Innis says to the wolf. "We'll make sure the lad doesn't get himself killed."

Initiative:  (1d20+4)[ 20 ]

[User]
 k So
Goblins:  has a 5
 Silent Female varg in knights colors: (18+3) 21
and will hit a goblin with a 22 smacking the pooor goblin with a flail for 16 points of damage killing it

5 goblins remain in sight

[User]
 Innis Cane: Fires longbow  (1d20+4)[ 16 ] . If the shot is successful, damage is  (1d8)[ 1 ]

Jax the Wolf: Charge attacking a goblin with a bite attack  (1d20+5)[ 7 ] . If bite attack hits, damage is  (1d6+1)[ 3 ]  and trip attempt is  (1d20+1)[ 7 ] .

Innis and Jax will focus their attacks on the same goblin if necessary, but will split up their attacks if either of them manage to kill a goblin without the aid of the other.

[User]
 Sighing, Elissar stood up, drawing her twin daggers. "Him dying would cut down on my help..."

Roll: 13

[User]
 All hits on shadow trip is unesicary with focus as they kill that one
4 gobos lefts


[User]
 A dark city. A quiet night.  Rats dodge into the gutters, people dodge into the alleys. Puddles are stomped, passerby are robbed. A fairly usual night in Lûn. Less usual are the three people gathered beneath the eaves of the largest house on its block: The three could hardly look more different, but somehow they all look to have an uncomfortable past. Their names are Wally, Hovor, and Dirk. They've come here tonight as friends in response to a strange letter the three all received, from an unrecognized androgynous being cloaked in silk and saying not a word.

 Spoiler: The Letter
 The letter handed to you is in a nondescript yellowed envelope, sealed with an unmarked wax stamp. When opened, the contents smell faintly of lavender, reading:

  My dear gentleman,
I have a proposition for you and your friends. This matter is of utmost importance to me, and you will be rewarded handsomely. Come to the largest house on the northern intersection of Ash street and Wilds road, and I or my servant will be there to explain further. Be there at half past midnight on the evening of the sixth.
Sincerely,
--P.O.

The text is inked in purple, and written by a hand steady yet slow--you can see no fewer than four places where the pen was held too long and the ink began to blot. The back of the page contains a crudely drawn map, made in a much shakier and rougher script. It shows you where to meet.

The nearby clock chimes: A quarter past eleven! You've gotten here over an hour early! Whatever will you do?

 Spoiler: Effects
You each have a letter, and 75 minutes before you're supposed to meet a mysterious being named P.O. at a nearby street corner. Each of you are comfortable, but guarded, with the rest.

[User] “My friends, you know what this letter  must  mean,”   I exclaim, struggling to keep my voice at the level of a whisper.   “It must be to do with the  arcane ; yes, that must be it. Think of the riches, that we stand to obtain:  books, scriptures, and magical objects .”   I move around slightly, not enough to draw unwanted attention, but still noticeable to my companions. I’m like a small child who needs the bathroom: rather unbecoming of a middle-aged man.

[User]
 As Wally approached the rendezvous point, he fingered the remaining coins in his pocket.  Just five silvers to my name. This caper had better work out.  Earlier in the evening, at the tavern, at the poker game, he'd had more - but what was done was done.

Now the halfling replies with a slight laugh  "Perhaps so, Hover. In any case I think the scent and color - and the promise of 'handsome' rewards - suggest that our client is by no means impoverished.

But ... I wonder why he wanted to meet at such a late hour. We are here, and I'd rather get on with this. Do you think we should knock early?"

ooc: Are lights on in the house?

[User]
 “Well, I would have thought that was quite obvious. I mean, really, why would anyone call this ragtag bunch to their house at such a late hour. They probably don’t want to be seen with us. I mean no offense, my friend, but you are hardly a prince.  And I…  well, some people don’t approve of my work.”

I paused for a brief moment considering my surroundings, the time of day and then tried to place myself in writer’s shoes.  “Perhaps they are in their study, or have a prior engagement, and that is why they requested a set time. We could knock, but we don’t know who the author is, perhaps they want to keep this matter a secret.”   I ponder what to do while surveying the house: looking to see how many lights are burning, etc. Anything that could give an incline of how many people are in fact living here.

[User] You circle the house, and note but one glowing window. Through the window, you can see the silhouette of a man, bending over a table, upon which rests what is either an ink bottle or a wine bottle. Returning to your appointed corner, the clock rings out again. 11:30.

[User]
 “Hmm, I think I saw a man or at least his shadow. I think we should knock. Didn’t look like he was busy. Which is a bit of a shame? It means he isn’t preparing gifts for us.”   I look somewhat disheartened as I speak, almost as if I had actually expected to find some untold riches.

[Would I have been able to tell what colour the ink was?] --if it was a similar colour to that of the letter I'd also share that information.

[User]
 "Just relax."  I say to my companions. While they wonder about who summoned us, I was more concerned about the possibilities of random people wandering down the street and spotting the potentially illicit meeting, or worse, if this were a set up. No one knows my face though, but it only takes a trip through the market in broad daylight to make you feel like everyone knows what you have done.

 "We were all here early, we should be making sure we know what we'll do if everything goes south."  I say, knowing full well that the only reason I got here at this time was because I couldn't afford to buy dinner.

[User] Wally replies  "We'd run for it. What else did you have in mind, Dirk?"

[User] You argue back and forth for a good while, but can't reach a good conclusion about what works. You're interrupted by the clock ringing out again. Midnight.

[User] “How we would escape, my friends who would want to see all three of us captured or dead?”   I paused for a moment, considering the possibility that a large portion of civilians living here probably sought retribution against us due to some crime or another.   “but one can never be too safe. Perhaps we should indeed plan our escape.”

[User]
 "I'm not saying things will go bad, but having a route planned would be of great help should we need to duck out."  After saying that, Dirk then takes a moment to look around, for back alleys to escape down and for possible obstacles. Also, he keeps an eye out for anyone who may be watching.

 Spoiler: OoC
Search:  (1d20+3)[ 22 ]
Spot:  (1d20+3)[ 16 ]

[User] While you search, you hear the clock chime again in the back, and spend a little longer searching. You found only what you expected to find: The odd bloodstained alley, a few partitions from where a down-and-out tried to make a home, and a few dozen rat nests near sewer grates. You appear to be the only three people on the street. The time is now 12:25 am.

[User] I knock at the door. Whilst thinking up reasons for being late.

[User] You knock, but nobody answers. You try again, with the same result. Your third time knocking, you stop halfway; a voice calls out  "That's not going to work, but thank you for coming."  The voice says again. You can't tell what direction it comes from, but it's clearly close. The time is now 12:30.

[User]
 Surprised, Wally looks around.  "Well then. What do you propose, P.O.?"

ooc: Listen  (1d20+2)[ 6 ] , spot  (1d20)[ 10 ]


[User]
 You're a motley crew, that's for certain.

The Count of Zapata has a reputation - that of a ruthless skinflint, a mercenary merchant with a heart of stone and a mind - and mien - harder than diamond.  He gets what he wants, and though he often plays fast and sharp, he always keeps to the letter of his word; be sure you read carefully, of course, before you sign.

You didn't, but then you're all desperate.

None of you know each other ... yet.  You've all signed on because you've got singular skills - and now, the Count has need of them.  You've no right to refuse, and your promised reward - whatever it might be - would be enough to entice you even if you could.

You've a date and an address:

The 10th of February.  Saint Seleban avenue, silver quarters, before the second bell.

It's a tall, brick front, with high rippled windows of mage-forged crystal.  There's no crest, just a faceplate with the address and a bell pull.

 Spoiler: Characters
Pick one.  You can write your particulars - what's below is a suggestion and mechanics.  All are relatively simple, iconic, and homebrewed.  Do whatever makes sense with it.

First to post claiming a character OOC gets the sheet.  Post IC ASAP.

 Spoiler: ______________________, hulking, brain-dead orc barbarian!
 SHEET

BAD KARMA IF YOU DON’T:
 Speak in rhyme. You’re not stupid, but your character is, and rhyming slows down your thoughts so you’ll think more his speed, not yours.
 Get into fights whenever they’re easy to get into!

GOOD KARMA IF YOU:
 Kill somebody in one hit (RAAARGH!).
 Break something (doors, tables, etc.)

YOU CAN MAKE STUFF UP IF:
 You succeed at a Survival roll to Track stuff (“two came this way, today; one ate cheese, the other had bad knees.”)

YOU ROCK AT:
 Killing folks. Seriously, you’re good at that. It’s kinda’ your thing.
 Tracking enemies (you can literally sniff’em out like a dog)
 Anything involving being made of muscles (climbing, jumping, swimming, arm wrestling, being hit over the head with bar stools, etc.)

 Spoiler: ________________________________, vampy, sinister dark elven assassin!
 SHEET

BAD KARMA IF YOU DON’T:
 Flip your hair, purse your lips, shake your hips, or otherwise vamp it
up every time you talk. Think porn star, without the porn.

GOOD KARMA IF YOU:
 Successfully use Bluff or Diplomacy to get someone to do what you want him to.
 Successfully kill somebody without having to fight them (from hiding, or by getting them off their guard, etc.).

YOU CAN MAKE STUFF UP IF:
 You succeed at a Bluff or Diplomacy roll (“Yup! I’m really the lost princess of Atlantis! Yup!”).

YOU ROCK AT:
 Lying to, seducing, and manipulating people with social skills
 Sneaking and hiding
 Stabbing people in the dark, or while they’re thinking you’re harmless, or as they come in for a kiss ... really just stabbing people.

 Spoiler: ___________________, know-it-all gnomish scholar-adventurer!
 SHEET

BAD KARMA IF YOU DON’T:
 Become obsessively curious about anything you don’t understand
 Try to come up with a solution for every problem – even ones you can’t fix.

GOOD KARMA IF YOU:
 Pull something off when nobody thought you could.
 Figure out or make up a plot point that helps the whole party (“I knew it!”).

YOU CAN MAKE STUFF UP IF:
 You succeed at a Knowledge check (“these things have a soft spot at the back of their heads,” “this is clearly a statue of the cult of Hullabaloo, which worships smelly cheese”).

YOU ROCK AT:
 Knowing stuff. All kinds of stuff. You can do dang near anything, in a pinch!
 Being a tactician – you tend to holler stuff out in combat that annoys everyone, but it’s generally pretty accurate.
 Locating and disarming traps.
 Sneaking about – you’re little, and that’s an advantage!

 Spoiler: _______________, holier-than-thou, pamphlet-waving, proselytizing priest!
 SHEET

BAD KARMA IF YOU DON’T:
 Preach about how whatever is going on is probably related to, or in the service of, or against your God, ethics, religion, particular spiritual text, etc. (“praise Hieronious” and the like count).
 Judge people loudly and publicly for what you consider their moral lapses or ineptitudes whenever there’s an opportunity.

GOOD KARMA IF YOU:
 Heal someone. It lets you feel superior, and you’re into that.
 Manage to get somebody to convert, or say “praise ____,” or in some way make somebody admit that you’re right and they’re wrong.

YOU CAN MAKE STUFF UP IF:
 You succeed at a Heal check. “This man’s leg will never recover!” might mean he ends up lame for life. Ow.
 You roll a successful Knowledge (religion) check.

YOU ROCK AT:
 Magic. You deity gives you spells. If you got it, flaunt it.
 Healing. Making people healthier and feel better is a great way to convince them that yes, you really are better than them and therefore they should probably worship your god, because he can really take care of business. Remember, this is back when there were lots of gods running around, so proving yours is effective is kind of a priest’s job.

If you really wanna, make your own - 3rd level, 36 point buy, keep in "magical renaissance" in feel.  Tweak any way you like.

GO!

[User] Borscht strides up the steps and stands before the glass, taking a moment to check his reflection to make sure his hair remains submissive to this morning's regimen of five different cantrips and half a tin of wax obtained at great risk of life and limb from a candle golem (because, as he reminds himself daily, he's worth it). Satisfied, he turns, strikes an intimidating pose, and thunders,  "Sinners!"  A couple of heads turn, across the street, and he adds impatiently,  "No, not you. We'll get to you later. I have lackeys for that."  Addressing himself once more, in a slightly more modulated pitch, to the other mercenaries, he declares,  "I see before me a trio of lost souls—yea, lost, I tell you!—as piteous and forlorn as ever I did see. Yet I counsel you, do not give up hope, my brothers in arms! Do not, for there is still the chance for redemption, as long as you abide by the three great virtues of Kvass: Compassion, the murder of other sentient beings for personal gain, and good fashion sense! For Kvass!"

[User]
 Nodding fervently, Benzordian Tentacostles pushes his horn-rimmed spectacles back into place. He mumbles something quickly, quietly, under his breath, and his nose twitches as his eyes flit left to right, left to right, left to right, as if reading an invisible script in mid-air.
" Jolly good! If there's one thing the faithful of Kvass know, it's how to dress to aggress! "
The red-haired gnome sizes up the building before which they stand. He judges the angles of the window lintels and the height of the parapet poignards, uses his thumb to scale the door frame to the wall thickness, and finally settles on nodding at the bellstring.
" Friend of mine, please do forgive me- but could you toll the ringer before second bell? I am prepared to admit I am slightly height impaired in this circumstance. Also, I adore what you've done with your hair. " He smiles at the priest, though the smile never truly touches his eyes.

[User]
 The door opens as the assembled bunch to reveal a rather squat, homely woman in a starch-stiff uniform of black and white.  The apron is frilly and spotless, but her hands are thick and calloused.  She eyes them as though at a market, appraising fish that has clearly gone off.

  "The maahstah wilt see thee now.  Wipe thy feet at the doah, an' no touching ... anything."    She sniffs at the hulking, wet, stinking orc that shoulders in first, huffing and snuffling about.  He reminds you, if nothing else, of some sort of mastiff - one of those obscenely huge dogs that's all elbows and muscle and heavy, matted fur.

The library has walls that reach a good twenty feet, all of it - every inch - a shelf with books.  There are ladders - two, actually - that reach the full distance, wheeled to allow them to be moved about.  The roof is of the same crystal as the windows, and the heavy grey sky begins to thicken with impending rain as you make your way in.

The man behind the desk is little more than a nearly horizontal, bald pate.  He's carefully inspecting a document on his desk - a vast expanse of dark, polished wood - as a quill, apparently obeying some unspoken command, hovers above the parchment, scribbling the occasional note or dipping itself in a nearby inkwell.

He doesn't look up.  It's not clear he even knows you're there.

[User]
 The woman in the lurid dress walks towards Borscht and places a long-nailed finger on his chest.  "Baby, that's no way to speak to a lady. And that's a real shame, because I want you to treat me like one."  Scarlett Skye coos.

Then the aproned woman opens the door and Scarlett shrugs - ambles into the building, stands in front of the desk, and raps it smartly with her knuckles.  "Excuse me,"  she scathes,  "But I've just got an  aching  need for a bit of service in this establishment."

[User]
 The man holds up a finger, nose and spectacles still pressed to parchment.  He finishes an embellishment with the quill in his hand, and the animated quill adds an underscore.

When he looks up, he looks down his gnose at you (gnome joke!).

 "You are the service."   He says this matter of factly.  The documents are your terms of service.   "I have been given power of attorney to arrange this affair for your employer.  A year ago he came into possession of a singluar property in an estate auction; the assessors sent to itemize his purchase disappeared.  The estate is in a removed location, and travel is inconvenient; you will go and investigate the assessors' disappearance and make a cursory evaluation of the worth of the holdings."   Here he nods at the other gnome.

 "My employer will expect regular correspondence.  You will use these."   He slides across a stack of envelopes bound in twine.   "Your whereabouts, any discoveries, etc."   He slides across a map, as well.   "You should be able to achieve the journey within a week, which is when the first envelope is dated.  Simply sign, seal, and it will deliver itself."

He looks over the party.   "You may speak with the butler about your supplies and any other needs."   At this, a rangy elf appears at the door.  It's clear the audience is at an end.

[User]
 Benzordian picks up the bundle of envelopes, hefts them for a moment in his hand, then tucks them into his vest.  Remember to check those out later , he thinks to himself. Next he picks up the map and tucks it under his arm.

" Thank you, sir. " He says graciously to the arbiter before turning to the manservant elf. He moves a few paces to the door and removes a note from his pocket. He hands it to the elf. " I have come prepared with a list of plausible necessities to our journey. Ignore everything notated with a crescent or diamond, as those were for the potential of having our work here in the city. As for the pack animals, anything Devonian will be acceptable, as will anything of the local Cataran stock. Please, nothing from east of Hecceles as I am quite allergic. " At this, he smiles at the man, then leaves to wait by the front door for the others.

[User] A few steps behind Benzordian, Borscht reaches out to the elf, grips him firmly by the shoulders, and stares into his eyes.  "Do not concern yourself with such trifles,"  he cautions sagely.  "Kvass will provide. Concern yourself only with your sinner's soul. Buy yourself a nice plume, that you may be redeemed."  He gives the elf a final fatherly shake, not letting his several hundred years' comparative youth impair his paternal air, and joins Benzordian by the door.

[User]
 Spoiler: Karma for Scene and Aside:
2 Karma for Borscht, for being horridly obnoxious!

1 for Scarlett, for being vampy (and campy, for that matter).

1 point of Bad Mojo for Benzordian, for failing to profess knowledge of the estate, the locale, or even investigate the map.  😉

I think I'm dropping the big ape.  Y'all are in this as a trio.  Interact!

The journey is long and swampy.  These are oft-ignored lands, and the road is ill-kept.  There's not much out this way - only peat farmers and some scattered tribes have the means and desire to live in this muck.  Why anyone would build an estate out this direction becomes a topic of discussion for your long, saddle-weary days.

The insects are so thick you find yourselves wrapping scarves around your mouths and, on occasion, even your eyes.  The nights are oppressive, the heat so thick you could almost cut it.  You feel like your drinking the air, and it's no colder than your moist, humid innards.

In short, it's wretched.

Those in heavier armor find themselves worn out (Fort save or fatigued for those wearing medium or heavier armor).  Those without are merely sick and exhausted.

You're resting the third night out.  You should be there in the morning.

Camp.

[User]
 Spoiler: Fort Save
[roll]d20+5[roll]

Borscht pulls out a monogrammed pillow from his pack and plumps it a few times with his hands.  "What?"  he asks.  "Beauty sleep and all. You know, Kvass' paladins can actually fall if they go into battle with bed hair. From those to whom much is given, much is expected."  Borscht strips off his armor, then settles in on his bedroll. He flaps a hand languorously at his comrades.  "Oh, and I'll take care of your pain in the morning. See if any of you can scare up a conversion during the night—it'll be more effective."

[User] It's hard to unstirrup languorously but Scarlett manages it.  "Oh, you boys must be so  stiff  from your long, hard ride. Don't you want a woman's touch - to help you relax?"  she says, flattening her bedroll on the ground beside Borcht's.

[User] Borscht rises irritatingly early the next morning, vaulting to his feet as if he's about to burst into a song-and-dance routine. Instead he runs a hand through his hair, beams a lighthouse grin at the rest of the world, and conjures a half-bucket of icy water above the heads of his layabout companions.  "Up!"  he proclaims in a tone characteristic of one used to having the universe bend over backwards to do their bidding.  "Time to go get mysteriously disappeared!"


[User]
 Today is a good day to go negative hp!

Welcome to Site 4! One of the combatants has offered to help out in adjudicating matches, none other than BANG! She'll introduce combatants and direct Thorak's summons from here on in.

Your first post should contain your RP introduction and your initiative roll - and no other mechanical actions.
After both combatants have rolled initiative you can take your turns as normal. If you use the central glyph to summon a creature, roll initiative for it, and I will control the summon in the new turn order.

Please include relevant information about yourself and your minions in a stat block in the spoiler of every post.

 Spoiler: Example Stat & Action Block
 [Player Name]
 HP                   1/1
 AC (AC, F, T)        10, 8, 6
 Saves (F, R, W)      1, 2, 3
 DR                   1/good
 Resistances          5/fire
 Weapon 1             Morningstar (+1 1d8+1 x2)
 Weapon 2
 Weapon 3
 Active Effect 1      Evil Devotion (10rnd)
 Active Effect 2
 Active Effect 3
 Location  g1

 Actions
[Player Name] Move to g3 (move)
[Player Name] Law Devotion to AC (swift)
[Player Name] Cast Cure Light Wounds on self (standard)
[Minion 1] to g3 (move)
[Minion 1] attacks [Opponent Name] (standard)

Corner to corner line of sight rules are in effect, and if things get contentious with bows we WILL break out Thorak's theorem (it's like pythagoreas' theorem, except you stab someone with your ruler afterwards). Please don't try and make any crazy flying attacks that mean we have to work out angles in 3D space, nobody wants to bring killonometry into this. The spaces on top of the walls are not directly lit, but as a sillhouette against the sky combatants gain no concealment.

Pay attention to what your character can and can't see. If you cast a fireball at a hidden opponent you had no way of seeing, you WILL attract Thorak's wrath. Anyone who feels like they're being cheesed or metagamed can make a short prayer to Thorak as a free action before using the summoning glyph. Thorak won't play favourites, but whatever comes out should at least have the ability to attack both combatants.

 OOC Thread   Recruitment Thread

      Arena   Link

Coordinates are case sensitive!

   Low-Light Vision Version   Link

Blue areas are shadowy to low-light vision.

 Spoiler: Detailed Arena Information

 Walls are 10 feet high and 5 feet thick, made from rough stone and flat topped. They can be climbed with a DC15 check and walked on as if on normal ground. The walls block line of sight and line of effect, but not telepathy. Nobody on top of a wall can benefit from concealment derived from the surrounding light level, but the inner edge of the wall is considered a low obstacle (grants cover from attackers within 30 feet)
 The ground is made of smooth stone, but dusted with a layer of fine, dry sand. It's easy to walk or run on.
 The air in the arena is still (no wind), and the arena is silent except for the occupants.
 The arena is open to the sky, but the walls still block LoS and LoE even for flying combatants.
 Leaving the arena for any reason is the same as yielding the match, apart from being unwillingly teleported out by your opponent, which will incur Thorak's wrath. Bull rushing your opponent out from the top of a wall is fine.
 The large central glyph is the only light source. The marked areas are shadowy, and the blue areas are shadowy to low-light vision. Combatants can also bring or create their own light sources which work using a radius as normal. If the glyph is ever covered, damaged or deactivated, then the entire arena will become dark. The glyph has a hardness of 10 and a HP of 30, and can be deactivated with three non-consecutive DC20 spellcraft or arcane knowledge checks.

 Walking or riding (not flying) over either edge glyph will heal the combatant for 5 hit points. Once a combatant has been healed by a glyph, that glyph will ignore them.
 While standing or mounted on one of the 4 central squares of the centre glyph, a combatant can activate it as a standard action. This summons a creature to either point A or B (their choice). The aim of the creature will be to kill both combatants.
 The match ends when one opponent is disabled and below 0 hit points.
 If there is an obvious stalemate for 5 rounds (such as if both combatants are hiding from each other), Thorak will become enraged and activate the summoning glyph.
  Diagonal movement is always 5 feet, not 5/10/5/10.
  It is possible to move diagonally past a corner.