{OPENING ROLEPLAY POST - background}<br/><br/>The City of Greywall lies in southern Droaam, close to the civilised nation of Breland. Within Greywall, the Calabas (known to the city's monstrous inhabitants as the Kennel) serves as the polite, public face of the monstrous nation of Droaam. The Calabas is in the domain of Baron Kundran Torrn of House Tharashk. The human and half-orc House bears the Dragonmark of Finding, and seeks a rich bounty of dragonshards from the rich fields of Droaam, with a rich sideline in 'exporting' monstrous mercenaries, somewhat in decline since the Treaty of Thronehold ended the Last War, two years past.<br/><br/>The Calabas is inhabited in equal measure by opportunistic businesspeople, adventurous and wealthy tourists, and expatriates escaping the restrictions of the five nations, or war-criminals and other chancers fleeing the Code of Galifar's justice. The Twilight Palace is the finest establishment in Greywall, a joint venture between House Phiarlan and House Ghallanda its patron's lives and goods protected by the finest House Kundarak security and the fiercest – and best-groomed – minotaur guards House Tharashk can furnish. Across the square stands the Silenced Stage. Subsidised by House Phiarlan the Silenced Stage specialises in works banned within the Five Nations, and the new creations of exiled artists. The luminaries of the company include Laren Devir, a Brelish playwright  known for his antimonarchy rhetoric; half-elf Asta Brand, a Karrnathi singer-songwriter whose opera: “Army of the Damned” is a bitter condemnation of both the Code of Kaius and the Karrnathi use of undead soldiers; and Syro Talandro, a changeling from Thrane renowned for his solo performances and his explorations of the dark side of the Church of the Silver Flame.<br/><br/>Bloodstone is not the Calabas, but the home of most of the medium and large sized creatures of Greywall. Close to the border of the two districts lies the Venonmous Voice, the Silenced Stage's competition and complement. The Venomous Voice provides a roost for the independent harpies of Greywall, and harpy songbirds perform – or duel – most nights. Recently its owner, Zoryanna of the Last Dirge Flight, has concluded an arrangement with House Thurrani, and their displacer-beast sigil is freshly and discretely carved above the door. It has drawn some of the most adventuresome tourists away from the Silenced Stage, although the two establishments flourished as together they've greatly increase the influx of tourists to Greywall.<br/><br/>{OPENING ROLEPLAY POST - actual}<br/><br/>“<a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gv4wkCt1zdE">You had plenty money nine~ twenty-two~</a>” a voice croons, almost hypnotic, as knarled kobold's claws tinkle their accompaniment across the ivories.  An iridescent feathered wing slips the midnight curtains apart.<br/><br/>“You let other women make a fool of you~” the songbird sings, strutting out, claws biting into the aged wood of the stage.<br/><br/>“Why don't you do right, like some other men do?” She sings, a powerful flap of her wings rushing the cloying scent of incense to the walls of the room, and gliding her forward to land atop the table of a Brelish noble and his lady.<br/><br/>“Get out of here,” she sings, one wing-hand stretching down to nobleman, who takes it in his own, . Her claws spike his companion's thigh as the harpy steps to the woman's lap, then down to the floor. The lady's gasp vanishes into the song, and behind the wave of feathers that engulf her head and stroke down her décolletage, “get me some money too.”<br/><br/>Perception DC 20, Sleight-of-Hand DC 20 (either) –<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">you notice that the harpy has expertly lifted a fine ruby necklace from about the dazed woman's neck</div></div></div><br/><br/>“You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about,” the harpy continues, slinking across the floor towards where a woman, averagely attractive but for her shockingly blonde hair, wearing an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse and a ragged skirt that rises, left to right, from knee to thigh.<br/><br/>“You ain't got no money, they will put you out,” the harpy continues as she stalks towards the girl, gesturing towards a couple of gargoyle bruisers at the door. The girl's long, pointed ears tell the world she's an elf – and for an elf or a human, her clothes identify her as markedly less affluent than the rest of the Venomous Voice's clientèle this night.<br/><br/>“Why don't you do right, like some other men do?” The harpy questions, brushing the elf's hair back with a wingtip. The elf shivers as the harpy leans forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.<br/><br/>“Get in here,” the harpy purrs, and there's barely time to spot a startled look on the elf's face before the harpy's lips slide over her blonde hair and engulf her head, wrapping around her neck. From the kobold, a discord sounds, as the harpy's wingtips thrust beneath the elf-girl's rump, lifting the elf up into her mouth, and bending her lips down, over the girl's breasts and across her smooth elven midriff. The kobold's tune turns to a descending minor, wickedly indulgent and just a little sad, as the harpy tilts her head back and lifts the elf-girl's pert rump high. Her legs flail only weakly, but the bulge her torso makes in the harpy's throat is clear to see, and below, the breast-beneath-breast enhancement of the harpy's chest. Of the flaxen head within the harpy's stomach, there's little sign.  The harpy gulps, deeply and audibly, pulling the elven ass between her lips, reducing leg-long flailing to a helpless kicking from the knee, then wriggling of the feet, then toes, then... nothing. Only the harpy's distended belly shifts. “Get me some money too,” the harpy sings, sweeping the elf-girl's purse from her table. Even the coins chime musically.<br/><br/>“I fell for your jivin' and I took you in,” the harpy sings, ass and belly swaying as she struts her slow way back to the stage.<br/><br/>“Now all you got to offer me's...” she has to beat her wings, vigorously, to hop her and her heavy belly back onto it, and sides a wicked look back to her slightly smaller audience, “digestin'~”<br/><br/>“Why don't you taste right, like some other men do?” The harpy sings, gently stroking her belly. She burps, loudly and tunefully, and it shrinks, noticeably. Outline of girl can be seen, struggling within, fighting and failing to win her way back up the harpy's through.<br/><br/>“Get out here,” the harpy sings, leaning forward as her belly pulses, her throat bulges, suddenly spilling saliva and stomachjuice coated elf out onto the stage. The harpy turns up her nose at the little pile of live, shivering girl, flinging the elf's purse at her acid-soaked feet. “Get some real money too~” she continues.<br/><br/>“Why don't you do right, like some other men do?~” Elegantly, she stretches down one winghand to the girl, who stretches her own back to the harpy... who pulls her up. “Like some other men do~” they sing together, as they turn, and bow. They step back, the curtain falls before them, and the audience – both the wealthy tourists and expats below, and the harpies roosting among the rafters - roar their applause.<br/><br/>A fledgling harpy, dressed tonight as a servinggirl but probably a novice chorister herself, brushes her wingtip across your shoulder, and bends low to your ear. “Miss Alizome and Chorister-Virtuoso Zorakatra request the pleasure of your company in their private dressing room,” she murmurs.<br/><br/>Knowledge local, history, nobility DC 10, local knowledge of droaam grants +5 bonus.<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Sora Katra is one of the three Daughters of Sora Kell who rules Droaam. She's a shapeshifter who often takes more pleasing guises than her own hag form, and is known as the 'Voice of Droaam' leading political interaction with the other nations, particularly Breland. She has no obvious reason to be moonlighting at the Venomous Voice and partaking in petty theivery.</div></div></div><br/><br/>{everyone except Alizome herself (who Sansuki has kindly allowed me to run as an NPC for the introduction) is getting this offer. If any of you already know each other, then you might be sitting together and getting the offer as a pair or small group. If you can post your responses, that'd be great - note that the DM expectation (which you'd normally pick up from other clues, I guess) is that you accept the offer which somehow 'introduces' the adventure}