conversations: human
conversations:  The mildly acrid smoke of the torch the man leading you carries stings your eyes as you make your way down twisting, confined steps. In the Catacombs beneath the abbeys of London, you are unsure as to how far underground you are, or even which direction you are heading down these twisting stairs. Tiny insets in the walls hold long-withered bodies, nothing more than bone really. Probably churchmen, or perhaps a saint or two.
  
  The man in front of you is of little note, a twisted, filthy thing common to the poor quarters of the city. He limps along, casting tiny, beady eyes back, suspicious. A rag wraps his head, holding up his deformed jaw, a byproduct of making matches, in place.
  
  Ahead you can see your a reaching your end, a large, musty wooden door standing barred at the landing of the stairs. Beyond, you can hear the sound of music and conversation, the sounds strange in this forgotten place.
  
  You are here by word of a "friend," a man of well bearing you met in a taproom, that took you aside a few days ago and made extravagant promises. While you are not quick to make friends, he had a way about him, a charm that seemed almost beyond real. Calling himself Jerrin, both of you talked long into the night on everything from the Empire, to the Mysterious East, of your adventures and some of his own. Oddly, you can recall little of his features, but have simply put it to the drink.
  
  Directions were given to met the guide before you, as well as assurances of it being worth your time. Perhaps you came here because of the wealth the he had painted in your mind. Perhaps you are here because of the darker things he hinted at, things that make the power-hungry stir. Perhaps, you were simply curious.
  
  Nonetheless you are here.
conversations: graymachine:
conversations: human
conversations:  Sakimatsu walks cautiously forward paying attention to every detail and keeping his face void of emotion. He wondered whether this would be another useless trip that put his life at unesissary risk and gave him little help, he was afraid but his body conveyed nothing (he hoped). He counted his steps so he would know approximantly how far into the catacombs he was. He tried to remember the route but he wasn't confident in his ability to, memory wasn't his strength. He tried to feel what the other people here were like, who would betray him, who could he count on, who can he trust, who would stand, who would die, and who would run...
   Sense Motive 
   
   Spoiler 
   (1d20+3)[ 12 ] 
  Should I roll for each person seperatly?
   
conversations: GnomeGninjas:
conversations: human
conversations:  Spoiler 
  No, just keep that Sense Motive until you feel your character has cause for a new roll.
   
conversations: graymachine:
conversations: human
conversations:  Anarasi could be imposing, if her posture was different. Tall and slender, although clearly quite muscular, her deeply tanned skin sets her apart from those around her. She stands not far from a man, following him closely and seemingly taking in her surroundings in the occasional swift glances she makes. Unarmored, the great blade on her back is quite obvious. The grip seems odd somehow, but without closer observation it's impossible to tell precisely how. Her clothing is loose and light, sand colors that stick out in the catacombs and the wavering light of the torch.
  
  Breathing deeply, Anarasi considers the mild stinging of her eyes. It reminds her of the past, and why she had come her in the first place. Already the warrior knew that she could navigate the catacombs, at least enough to leave, although the situation displeases her. All the bodies here were so dry...Calling upon the spirits may result in an out of control blaze. Of course, whatever lay in the room beyond the door might be less flammable, but a fire so far from the surface would be a death sentence.
  
   DM: 
   
   Spoiler 
  Currently in Stance of Clarity, +2 AC against one enemy. Currently none selected, but...just in case.
   
conversations: PersonMan:
conversations: human
conversations:  Leonardo was stuck in a mixture of wonderment/excitement and nervousness. On the one hand he was mystified by all he saw, imagination taking over as the possibilities of what he could get out of this venture, and the multitude of corpses only added to the thoughts of the knowledge and research to be dome. He didn't quite care much for  how  they got their, obviously this was merely a burial site for many people; no one would actually  kill  anyone for their corpse. But on the other hand he had no idea where he was, who was near him, and where he was going. He was garbed in his normal attire, a flowing jet black robe with several white drawings all over it, hood pulled back to reveal his face. Underneath the robe was a wool shirt hiding a chain mail shirt underneath it. Flowing behind him is a red cloak with a majestic design upon it. Resting upon his side is the scabbard And the sword itself resting within it.
  
  Leonardo was the opposite of intimidating. He had a long lanky build, his pale skin seperating him from the rest. Leonardo had positioned himself as far up front as possible, trying to get to the destination as quickly as he could. Finally with the door within his grasp he walks forward, grin on his face, and scans the area for any trap before moving to open the door.
  
   
   Spoiler 
  Spot check for traps/bad things: (1d20+2)[ 10 ] 
   
conversations: Tychris1:
conversations: human
conversations:  Relaxing his posture, the guide *hawaks* and spits to the side, eyeing his latest charges.
  "Reckon you'll wants to be stoppin' all that an such," he garbled out around the difficulties of his set jaw, eyeing those that are wary, "Ta missus don't like people all ready like to go hurtin' folk at 'er gatherin's. Ya be safe enough, seeing' you don't make no trouble. Or go trustin' any folk."
  Chuckling to himself with a rasping, wet sound, be throws the bar on the door and swings in open to the protest of aged hinges.
  Inside it is a stark contrast to the location. Warmth floods out the door, chasing away the chill and wetness of the catacombs. Torchlight plays from inside as you move forward, along with the louder climbs of some string instruments. Perhaps a couple dozen people are gathered in small groups, scattered around a large, open mosque. The area is open, some fresh air drifting down from vents the night sky can be seen through.
  A fair number of the people here are garbed heavily, apparently to conceal their identity. Just as many are in outlandish or intimidating clothing, quietly talking amongst themselves and regularly taking stock of the room. One such would be you acquaintance Jerrin, the focal point of several people conversing in a corner, apparently finding the goings-on rather amusing.
  Centrally is a woman of amazing beauty, and perhaps arrogance. There is no shame in the gown she wears, all white and red, as a facsimile of those worn by the Queen. Most of the people here gather around her conversation, many hang-ons, but a few engaged in quiet discussion that seems to equally earn amusement and scorn.
  The air here sizzles with the ozone-burning scent of magic.
   
   Spoiler 
  I need a reflexive Spellcraft check from all casters. If you are wanting to overhear and conversations I need a Listen check with a -5 penalty. Interacting with any NPCs needs a preliminary Diplomacy check.
   
conversations: graymachine:
conversations: human
conversations:  Walking into the room Leonardo feels the magic around him and grins as he tries to figure it out. Looking about he scans around the room to check out what's what. After a few seconds of looking he notices Jerrin in the corner. Leonardo works his way over their as politely as he could, the words "Excuse me" and "Pardon me ma'am" slipping out of his mouth so much that they began to mingle and mesh with each other. Finally he gets his way over to Jerrin's corner and tries to listen in on the conversation. After listening fir a bit in order to understand the conversation Leonardo reaches out with his hand to shake Jerrin's hand  "Hey Jerrin, remember me, Leonardo? We met at the taproom before." 
   
   Spoiler 
  Reflexive Spellcraft check: (1d20+10)[ 18 ] 
  Listen check: (1d20-5)[ 1 ] 
  Diplomacy check (Initiate conversation): (1d20+7)[ 24 ] 
   
conversations: Tychris1:
conversations: human
conversations:  Sakimatsu cautiously moves to a corner avoiding eye contact and not speaking to anybody. There he sits down and listens hoping to be inconspicous.
   
   Spoiler 
  If possible I will take 20 on listen, giving me an 18
  If no  (1d20-2)[ 2 ] 
  Also my disguise check to appear as a human child  (1d20+14)[ 25 ]  this is including the penalties for different age and race.
   
conversations: GnomeGninjas:
conversations: human
conversations:  Baccano glances at Anarasi before walking into the crowd attempting to make friends with the people around him.
   It is a fine place here isn't it Ladies and Gentleman? Would any of you care to enlighten me as to what it is you do here? 
  Diplomacy Check:
   (1d20+12)[ 25 ] 
  Spellcraft Check:
   (1d20+9)[ 13 ] 
conversations: Hazzardevil:
conversations: human
conversations:  Do I hear anything?
conversations: GnomeGninjas:
conversations: human
conversations:  Anarasi follows her employer wordlessly. She relaxes her posture to avoid giving the impression of expecting combat, but the entire situation isn't at all to her liking. Still, if Baccano wanted to go here there wasn't much she could do but try to keep him safe.
  
  Nodding as the two come up to the group Baccano had chosen to add himself to, Anarasi stays silent.
conversations: PersonMan:
conversations: human
conversations:  Originally Posted by GnomeGninjas 
   Do I hear anything? 
   
  
  Anything at all?
conversations: GnomeGninjas: