conversations: human
conversations:  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.
   
conversations: LastCenturion:
conversations: human
conversations:  “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.
     
   
    
conversations: Asus:
conversations: human
conversations:  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?
conversations: kinem:
conversations: human
conversations:  “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.
     
   
    
conversations: Asus:
conversations: human
conversations:  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.
conversations: LastCenturion:
conversations: human
conversations:  “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.   
   
    
conversations: Asus:
conversations: human
conversations:  "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.
conversations: Eonn:
conversations: human
conversations:  Wally replies  "We'd run for it. What else did you have in mind, Dirk?" 
conversations: kinem:
conversations: human
conversations:  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.
conversations: LastCenturion:
conversations: human
conversations:  “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.”     
   
    
conversations: Asus:
conversations: human
conversations:  "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 ] 
   
conversations: Eonn:
conversations: human
conversations:  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.
conversations: LastCenturion:
conversations: human
conversations:  I knock at the door. Whilst thinking up reasons for being late.  
conversations: Asus:
conversations: human
conversations:  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.
conversations: LastCenturion:
conversations: human
conversations:  Surprised, Wally looks around.  "Well then. What do you propose, P.O.?" 
  
  ooc: Listen  (1d20+2)[ 6 ] , spot  (1d20)[ 10 ] 
conversations: kinem: