conversations: human
conversations:  You were all whisked away as soon as you arrived at the conference. A great gathering of legendary artisans and craftsmen, as well as the truly powerful whom stand to lose a great deal if the current structure of trade and political dealings is overthrown. You have all gathered for your own reasons, but for the most part, those at this conference have gathered because of one thing. Titans.
  
  These hulking monstrosities have been materializing randomly onto the material plane and clashing with each other in weeks long death matches. The scars they left on the land did not distinguish them from other threats until several of them materialized near Trabadon, the city of smiths. Three titans converged on the city and completely annihilated it in their stuggle to destroy each other. This caused the loss of several major artifacts, as well as the destruction of numerous mundane wealth and the worlds largest cache of magical treasures and materials.
  
  Disruptions of trade routes and destruction of natural resources have caused many of you to loose a great deal in wealth and infrastructure. It was thought that the adventuring parties would deal with it, but while the bloodthirsty kleptomaniacs had managed to slay countless demons and mythical beasts, only the smallest of titans were within their ability to handle.
  
  The last straw was the recent ingress of a creature only known as the Mountain. A creature so massive that it can crush a castle under a single foot like a giant stepping on an ant. A creature that causes massive devastation any time it wakes up to move, it heralds a power so far beyond anything that has been dealt with in any of your lifetimes.
  
  You are all ushered into a large conference room. There is a stage at the head of the room. There are several immediately recognizable entities standing on the stage, the leaders of the conference and the ones who brought you all together. At the fore of the group stands a gender neutral being with a blank white mask that appears to be porcelain, dressed in the attire of a rich man's personal servant. While none know his identity, it matters not. His mask and attire mark him as the current Voice of the Guild. A headless organization that has it's hands in almost all trades, the Guild provides impartial "Judges" who will enforce to the letter agreements between parties. Should a deal be overseen by a Guild Judge, you know that the parties will be held to their terms; alternatively, they will die.
  
  Standing slightly behind the Voice and to the left is a stunning woman, all dressed in form fitting leather. One of the most sensual creatures you have ever seen, her skin is white as china. She has waist length ink black hair that she has braided intricately. Her eyes are like bright flecks of jade, green and piercing. She is the Trick, mistress of seduction and Queen of the Harlots. Hers is the oldest trade in the planes and she owns and operates the majority of legal and illegal sex trafficking groups. She has a deadpan look an her face as she surveys the crowd.
  
  Standing oddly off to the side is a dirty robed and cowled man, burn marks streaking his cloak are ignored as if they don't matter. He appears to be absorbed in some sort of object he holds, which he is poking and probing with a shining silvery scalpel. When he stops for a moment and looks around at a loud noise his appearance under his hood gives away his identity. His skin is a patchwork of different materials, metals leathers, cloths and many other things make up a haggard and driven face, marked by two eyes that are the only remaining part of him that is his own visible flesh. This is the Alchemist, a being who creatures abominations so foul that they surprise those who know that he also creates some of the most beautifully designed works of art in the planes. A creature who cares only about experimentation, he is widely considered mad, though his work is a constant source of trade as they are all highly sought after.
  
  The final being on the stage is somewhat of a surprise. A woman dressed in ragged clothing stands in the back leaning against the wall. Her appearance is nothing special, she is neither attractive nor ugly. The only thing that sets her apart visually are the oddly rich instruments that she carries. They are in stark contrast to the rest of her dull appearance, but when in boredom she plays a few notes on a flute everyone knows who she is. Theresa the Songstress is known across all the land for the fact that she plays music so beautiful that devils and angels alike have courted her to join them.Her only devotion isto her musichoweverandthe ability to spread joy amongst the common folk by wandering from town to town, playing her music to pay for her room and board.
  
  After several minutes, there are about 60 of you gathered in the room. The doors are shut and the Voice addresses you.  We have called you all here today because we all have a common interest in the continued existence of the status quo of our world as it exists now. We all profit in one way or another as long as the world keeps from falling apart. We are experiencing a disruption of our ability to maintain each of our operations due to a seemingly unstoppable force that cannot be reasoned with. All attempts so far to communicate or coerce the aptly named Titans has failed. We call you here not to solve this problem, such is not in our grasp, at least not yet. No we call you here to guard this land and contain the impact these beings have. While you do so, the four of us upon this stage will probe the depths of the law-aligned planes. We have received information indicating information on these beings may be found there. If we cannot unite against this growing threat, we will all lose everything we have. Now, what say each of you. Will you stand with us? 
conversations: Torgarn:
conversations: human
conversations:  El reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a mask that looked much like a golden fox, and placed it over a mask he already wore; a mask that looked much like a one-eye smiling face. When he moved his hand away, he was holding a third, different mask. He tucked it away into his clothes quickly though.
  
    You know none of us would be so foolish as to not protect our world. Can't turn a profit, if all your merchandise is ruined, all your clients dead and the land all messed up. So, anyone here who doesn't vow to use all their resources to end this plague, why, anyone like that just doesn't care about their goods enough.   El adjusted his hood, keeping his features hidden. Despite being exactly 4 feet tall, El still believed he could remain incognito.   But as far as solutions go, someone suggested to me before that perhaps we move everything we can up into the sky. Or into other planes. Just temporarily of course. Or deep, deep underground. How dangerous are the lolth worshipers, the aberrations or the other lurkers in the dark, when compared to the raw destructive power of those titans? Send the adventurers out to clear out the underground. The dwarves seemed to like it down there well enough. Gnomes too. Seems like between the sky, the deep underground and another plane we should be able to stow some, if not most of our more valuable objects. Well, that's what someone told me at any rate. I don't know much myself.  
   
   Spoiler: Actions 
  Switch out Kamaro's mask for the Keaton mask.
  
  Bardic Knowledge on all 4 people.
  Voice:  (1d20+27)[ 40 ] 
  Sexy Lady:  (1d20+27)[ 29 ] 
  Maker:  (1d20+27)[ 47 ] 
  Little Miss Nobody:  (1d20+27)[ 28 ] 
  
  Also, disguise check to look like I'm somebody else.  (d20+31)[ 43 ]  Maybe a Gnome? Yes, a gnome.
   
conversations: darklink_shadow:
conversations: human
conversations:  The lady although beautiful, kept her face covered by a white cloth held by a golden buckle and her entirety bleaches white except for her amber eyes, standing beside a lawful woman whose job is to transport things around. She is in disguise as an Arabic-esque woman to lessen her influential presence and charisma. Yet, her outline is not what it seems. The disguise is just a contingency if people see through her majestic image of an unfathomable emissary of an Arabian beauty that her magic had laid for the eyes of the crowd. Her eyes widens, upon seeing another potential rival in the conference room but cut short as the Voice addresses them. She nods solemnly at the impish man, already understanding the extend of the havoc. She manipulates her vocalization to sound foreign like her chosen cover, sounding if someone's grumbling.
  
    Yes, yes. You have my support, sadiqi. But...Damage prevention, how? We have many arsenals that are spanning. We will be destroying more land to deal with those gargantuan. Arrival time, when? How long do we have to prepare? We need time to move our goods as far or away as possible. Stalling time, how much? We need estimate as to how long your search will take. The titans can wipe out an area in seconds. If you are taking to long, you surely have no time.  
  
  At that point, she feels her throat tightening and settles on a nearby chair motioning for a glass of water from her butler, also disguised as an associate in flavourful middle eastern style. She needs to see whether she knows who she's talking to.
  
   
   Spoiler: Rolls 
  
  Bardic Knowledge
  Mr Holier than Thou aka Voice -  (1d20+22)[ 37 ] 
  Potential Rival Musician -  (1d20+22)[ 41 ] 
  Cackling Mad Scientist -  (1d20+22)[ 24 ] 
  Prostitute -  (1d20+22)[ 28 ] 
  
  Acting In Character -  (1d20+46)[ 58 ] 
  Permanent Image
   
conversations: Yas392:
conversations: human
conversations:  Alexander sits- no, lounges- at a table, dressed in a brilliant gold suit that would be ostentatious if it weren't so damn good looking. He holds up a golden glass full of some strange liquid, swirling it around without drinking it. Flecks of gold dust swirl around him, coating the floor in a glimmering shroud.
  
   "Last year, a two hundred foot long flying creature was spotted six hundred miles out from the city. It is unknown whether it was a titan, but at this point I wouldn't gamble my safety on being able to outreach the titans- besides, the sky is lousy with dragons this time of year."  At this last remark, Alexander gives a grinning nod of his head to a stunningly attractive woman with bright silver hair.
  
   Likewise, when the mountain puts its foot down, it leaves a crater half a mile wide and hundreds of feet deep. The halls of the dwarves go miles below the surface, but they have been digging for thousands of years. Now, as a long-term strategy, those are sound suggestions. But right now, we need to disable a large percentage of the titans." 
  
  As he speaks, Alexander scribbles a note on a piece of paper, handing it off to a page without looking at it.  "Those things die. Spears and arrows hurt them. Spells burn them. If those of us here devote just a few days of our time or a bit of our profits to halting the titans, we can easily eliminate the worst of the danger." 
   
   Spoiler: For the DM 
  The note, addressed to the Alchemist, reads  "Give the Formians hell and I'll turn one of your golems into pure gold. What do you say?" 
   
conversations: Dorian Gray:
conversations: human
conversations:  El nodded to Alexander.   Of course, I recognize that as wisdom. But your dragon comment reminds me, we need to look into getting Bahamut's children to work with us. I've heard several flights have worked together to attack the titans, and they would be valuable assets for our efforts. I know someone, who knows someone who is owed a favor or two by a couple of these flights. It's been said before, but I think we might look into a way to lead the titans. If we could lead them to someplace, I don't know where, maybe a desert wasteland, they will fight each other. Then we lead another there. I've heard it said that these things destroy each other much better than we can.   
conversations: darklink_shadow:
conversations: human
conversations:  Alexander gives a manic grin and pantomimes peering around the room.  "Sure! Who here wants to volunteer as bait?" 
  
  More seriously, he continues,  "That is definitely a possibility we should consider. I certainly have the  capital  to hire a couple iron dragons, although it pains me to pay a couple hundreds thousand gold for two mercenaries. But I like the idea of moving the conflict as far as possible from any populated area." 
  
  Alexander leans back in his chair, resting one leg atop the other. The floor under his boots slowly begins changing color, becoming metallic and yellowed.
conversations: Dorian Gray:
conversations: human
conversations:  Standing quietly against the edge of the room, her assistant by her side, The Night With No Stars looks out over the assembly, memorizing faces, or at least disguises.  Her little empire was highly mobile, and so far had been able to avoid direct damage from the titans.  Her markets, however, had suffered.  Entire nations wiped off maps.  Hundreds of buyers gone.  The slowdown was painful, wallet wise.  But she could still get things places.  Maybe that could be a solution.
  
   "Perhaps we could lure or move them somewhere they can't survive?  These great things all seem to prefer the material plane.  While some of these things are large beyond reason, some may be dropped into other planes with relative ease.  Would this be possible?  Would there be a way to gather more information about them?" 
conversations: Arbitracious: