Chapter Four And A Half

[Custer Thickett]

Cuss restocks the crossbow quarrels snapped to his leather bracer using his teeth as a second hand.

While following the group from the rear, Cuss interrupts an awkward silence to ask, "Is it me luck that one of ya knows how to mend a broken arm?"

At the window, Cuss has to pester Artimus.  "I can't see over the edge.  Oiy, with me broken arm I can't lift meself up.  Uh, can ya, umm, lift me?"

Once he is able to see down, "That's Hale fire, yeah?  Ha!"

Back on the ground, he paws at his Kraken's Fist to think to Osvald.  'We're high up, now.  Doubt we can make the rendezvous.  If it all goes to the Hells from here, I'll see ya back at the Root in the turn of a moon, or in the next life if we can be so lucky, friend.'

As the group descends into the armory, Cuss has Maith in hand, loaded with a poison tipped quarrel.  He tries to quietly melt into the shadows when he hears the shrill question, "HEY."  [Stealth 24]

From there he observed the interactions with the kid.  A smile curved the corner of his lip when Val objected to Kellar's initiative to grab him.  No-one from Esmeltaran would be fooled so easily.

Kid or no, this one looked dangerous, and he was almost as tall as Cuss.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 15

[Gimble Nabisco Raulnor]

Gimble begins searching the room as soon as they enter. He checks the leather chests first, observing each of the magical signs as he goes. He takes some time to study the magic, waving his hand through the letters and attempts to shake or move some of them to see if the signs budges. The gnome continues to hum and mumble as he cracks each container open and peers inside for his belongings.

If the thirteen chests do not contain his items, then he will move on to look at the tables and piles of equipment. The wizard turns around as he hears the boy shout to them, but he quickly resumes his search once Kellar gets a hold of the child.

[Ao]

Artimus’ voice drifts eerily through the echo-chamber of the armoury, the flowery mariner speaking in a manner that might have wooed the skirts off the most timid of chamber maids.

But his husky tongue simply makes the youth’s eyes bulge, the enormous dragoon looming over him.

“Ah….!”

The boy is tongue-tied, Kellar’s intimidations lost upon the frazzled boy as his ears refuse to hear the hulking, armoured man. A thick drop of sweat beads off of the warrior’s nose, landing on the young man’s forehead.

Kellar can see he has, perhaps, overshot his mark.

The two of them spend a moment wondering how they’ll compensate for the missteps, when the clink of a bag of gold lands next to their quarry’s head.

Emelious grins, his words begin to flow as the child pays rapt attention…

[…]

Gimble pokes through the armoury alongside Dwan, the dwarf gazing about the stacks of looted items with a dreamy look in his eyes. Something is troubling behind the druids face, betrayed as he scratches absentmindedly at his neck.

The gnome busies himself with poking through the chests, watching as his paladin companion toils next to him.

Valeria’s eyes light up as she pops open a leather-bound chest, her armour and weapons glistening within. The perfectly polished items gleam in the torchlight, a testament to the immaculate condition that she keeps her things.

She hears a quiet cry of delight next to her, as Gimble bend over another chest. It’s clear he has found his personal belongings also.

Dwan’s eyes find a bookshelf, piled with dozens and dozens of copies of black leather-bound books. They seem to be the same book, in fact…written in a strange thieves’ cant. Clearly, literature for the priests of Cyric.

He is about to turn around from the stack of blasphemous tomes, when he spots another book that makes him start. Up the spine, in the common tongue, the words ‘THE RED PLAGUE’ can be read.

[…]

The boy looks up at Emelious. He hasn’t spoken yet.

He looks at the bag of gold, breathing deeply. And then, his lips open.

“I…I’m Brahm.” he says simply, cutting the silence. The boy recovers himself, scratching his head.

“I’m a chamber-boy. But, I can do this! I can help.”

His mousey brown hair swoops in his face, and it seems he’s becoming eager. He speaks quicker and quicker, regaling you with information about his participation in the tower and his knowledge of its inner sanctum. It’s clear he’s been here for some time. And, it’s clear that he’s mostly an overlooked chambermaid to Keisan’s inner circle…

“…and I know the patrols by heart. Right now, it’s Gavich and Rubinzar that are patrolling the halls. They’ve been going since noon though, and so they ain’t moving much more. They’re guarding the stairs near Keisan’s audience hall. All the other clerics are in the lower levels, in the Sanctum Temple. They’ll be there for the rest of the evening. Most of em are drunk by sundown, and sleep there.”

He coughs, standing up as Kellar eases off of him. Though his knife dangles at his hip, it’s clear to Artimus and Kellar that Brahm is well convinced by Emelious’ proposal, and isn’t thinking much of dashing at this point.

“…Keisan’s in with Grol though. The war chief. I brought em wine about a half hour ago, and I’m supposed to bring ‘em a few cooked geese, but I burnt those. That’s why I was headed down this way, to go back to the scullery and bring some bread and cheese. If I bring the burnt geese, Keisan’ll lash me in front of all the others, and…”

He talks for a longer period about his past history with his cruel master Keisan. The details are rather general.

“…anyway. They’re having a meeting. There’s an army arriving at the towers tomorrow, and they’re preparing for something. There are at least a half-dozen of clan Maul orcs in Keisan’s chambers, as well as his lieutenants. Oh! I didn’t tell you about them!”

He takes another breath, now speaking a mile a minute.

“There’s Daste. He’s an assassin from Waterdeep. And Maurei, she’s the spymaster…I think she’s from Athkatla. And the big one is Alshaquiz, he’s a warrior from Calimshan. They say he’s half djinn. He has the biggest sword you’ve ever seen.”

[…]

Custer listens as Brahm speaks to the group. His arm feels raw, this moments repose reminding him of his aches.

Suddenly, his Kraken’s Fist pendant rustles against his chest. A single word flashes in his mind, in Osvald’s gruff voice.

“Fuck-“

=============================

MVP: Emelious. Great work today sir, like how you handled it. Shout out to Arty and Kellar. Accidentally molesting, and over-muscling Brahm gave me a good chuckle haha. Loved it.

[Kellar]

"Let's see what else is in here that I could use. Want to help me Orbaugh?"

Kellar began looking through the armory for different weapons, chain and armor that looked unique or had properties that would aid him battle. Perception Roll= 17+4= 21; Success! He kept the boy's conversation with the others in mind as he moved around. The listing of the lieutenants was of interest. We remove the lieutenants along with leader, the army will collapse.

Kellar recalled the mention of delivering food. "Custer, I think this is your field of expertise. Do you think we can do anything with the food the boy needs to deliver?" He continued flipping through dusty helmets and armor and weapons.

"Dwan or Gimble, any chance you could identify any weapons or armor with an enchantment or otherwise?"

He called out to the others, "Whenever you're set, I'll be ready to move out."

Actions:
Anything worth anything that Kellar found?

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 17, 5

[Dwan Bolduum]

Dwan or Gimble, any chance you could identify any weapons or armor with an enchantment or otherwise?

Dwan doesn't even hear the question as he stares at the bookshelf.

The Red Plague. This might be it... freedom from this curse. Dwan licks his lips and grabs the book. A plain leather tome, nothing about it betrays the evil that is held within.

No time to read this now. He thinks as he slips the book into his pack.

As he leaves his focus he recalls some of Kellar's plan.

Custer, I think this is your field of expertise. Do you think we can do anything with the food the boy needs to deliver?

Dwan grabs the book in thieves' cant

As the halfling starts to dig through his pack, Dwan approaches him.

Wait... he says quietly to the halfling. I have something that we can use.

Dwan digs through his pack taking out a few wrapped packages of mushrooms and placing them gently on the floor. His arm plunges down into the pack once more and lifts a skinny package wrapped in cloth. As he unwraps it his eyes start to glow with the same tinge of red as the liquid in the vial.

Use this... he says as he hands the vial to Custer. You grabbed it for a reason, and I can't think of any better use than to bring down Keisan and this crazy Cyricist army. This book might help too, I can't recognize the script but I've seen scrawled on the walls of the tougher parts of town, maybe you could find some use from it. He hands the book to Custer.

===================================
Dwan packs away The Red Plague
Dwan suggests to Custer that they use the red vial to poison Keisan and his generals.

[Gimble Nabisco Raulnor]

Gimble's eyes glow from behind his bushy white brows as his vision lands upon his long lost belongings. He eagerly leans into the chest as far as his short legs can push him and begins to haul his items out. His fingers first latch onto the worn leather strap of his pack. With a huff and grunt, he manages to drag the earthen backpack over the lip and sets it against the chest. He opens the flap and pulls out a large, weathered tome. Its bright red cover now has a few darker patches, and the brass pieces on the corners and the buckle have been polished to a golden luster. The gnome's little fingers hastily unlatch the strap, opening the pages to breath in new air, and dance over the scrawling text inside. What was once most likely a neat stack of papers is now covered in scraps and notes that have been pasted onto the pages. Corners and edges of documents, drawings, and side notes stick out of the otherwise unbroken block of paper.

With a smile and quiet sigh, Gimble places the tome back into his pack and dives back into the chest for his remaining items. A dull thud can be heard as he pulls out a gnarled, yet polished length of wood. One end has a large, smooth knot, while the other ends in a bit of a point, the end of which is capped with a dark piece of metal. He taps the cane on the tile floor twice, and a small smiles creeps across his old face.

Gimble places a hand on his hip and scratches the side of his head with his cane as he looks around the room. "It seems that the rest of my items would be down by the stables where they've put Eurus...

"Dwan or Gimble, any chance you could identify any weapons or armor with an enchantment or otherwise?"

"Right, right. I'll see if there's anything of use here. I can only imagine what kind of artifacts a dark priest of Cyric would be storing up in these towers. Gimble mumbles a line of Draconic and wiggles a few fingers in the air. He begins to walk around the room, looking through piles of equipment, under tables, and in containers.

[Artimus DeLonde]

Artimus rolled back onto his heels and stood letting out a muted chuckle, looking over to Kellar.

"Money talkz it zeemz" he remarked, some derision and levity intoned in the remark.

He was happy to see something ply the young man'ss will, as his attempts to charm the boy were becoming... uncomfortable, for everyone.

Artimus Listened intently as Brahm illuminated their surroundings with his intimate knowledge. The boy was trove, a spy network unto himself.

Grol, Daste, Maurei, Alshaquiz, Artimus poured over the names searching his memory for any hints of these figures, any weakness he could exploit.

Brahm, this is a great thing you've zhared, Iz it your wizh to ztay here- If you help uz, you will be one of uz, like a brother, oui?

We can help you escape zhiz place. * Artimus eye twinked with a far of majesty* Doez your heart crave adventure?

Have you ever zeen the zea?

1d20 knowledge 15 Success?!
....

Artimus nodded at Custer's request for a lift, Gripping him by the  back of the shirt and heaving under his one leg taking care not to jostle his injured arm too much.

"Up you go."

Hale Fire?  I hope you are right mon ami-  It doez zeem to be hiz brand of trouble.

Artimus let Custer back to the ground and loosed his grip.

Az for your clipped wing, I can brace it with zomthing zimple, perhapz Dwan'z hand might be more zkilled at zuch zhingz.

Artimus offered motioning to Dwan, who was then pouring over a book he'd plucked from the shelf - gazing upon it as if was a bright diamond, or a map to a vast fortune.

Artimus stepped towards where Dwan stood asking. "What have you found "Ours - homme"  (Bear-man).

....

Artimus searched the armaments inspecting the blades, mostly so he could scoff at their ill craftmenship. the Mariner took a moment to root through the chests for any shirts suitable to replace his sullied one. He also felt the absence of the silver ring he left in the blighted woods,  he searched for a replacement and for a fresh set of boots, the ones on his feet felt wet and worn.

1d20 perception 17 Success?!

.....

The fist jumped to life crackling with the unmistakable husky tones of Osvald Hale, Ranger, and malcontent.

Lord Hale, Artimus sputtered as he snatched the emblem in his hand. "You're alive!? Thank the moonmaiden, We are in Kezian'z tower about to make a ruckaz, I zee you've ztarted one of your own, non?

[Emelious Storm]

Daste… Waterdeep. Hmm…

[History: 14 + 0 = 14]

----

“Alright, sounds like we have the start of a plan. Brahm, would we run into anyone in or on the way to the scullery? If not, then I will join you; these mushrooms are a bit dangerous and I’d rather you not risk handling them. Do I have a volunteer to go with me? The rest, salvage what you can from this room, and take care of whatever other business you might have. We’ll keep in contact with our Fists”

Emelious lifts his pendant from his neck and then bestows it onto Brahm.

“I’m going to ask something of you, and it’s going to be dangerous.  I need you to bring the food to them. They can’t know anying is wrong or they won’t eat. But don’t stay up there. Set the food down and leave. If they hassle you, tell them you think you left the stove on. Which, I’m thinking… won’t be a lie,”

Emelious lifts the Kraken’s fist, “If you get in trouble and can’t get away, grab this, think about us and ask for help. We will be waiting at the stairs to the audience hall.

“Which leads me to Gav and Rubin. I think that will be simple enough, tell them you are worried about how it tastes and ask them to both try it, they wouldn't want Keisan to be upset either. This will also give us a chance to see how fast the mushrooms work. Again, we’ll be close by just in case.”

“Once the food is delivered and they’ve had a moment to dig in we’ll make our move. In the meantime, get somewhere safe. We’ll get in contact when it’s over. If for some reason we don’t make it out, you gotta run. Keisan will know you played a part,” Emelious tucks the Kraken’s Fist into Brahm’s shirt.

Emelious turns to the party, “Does anyone have any questions or anything to add? As per usual, I'm making this up as I go.”

----

Stealth if/when needed:
[16 + 4 = 20]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Emelious Storm' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 14, 12

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 16

[Custer Thickett]

Cuss looks at the glowing vial in Dwan's hand, and shakes his head as he looks levelly at his friend.  "Oiy, me thinks that's too much of a risk, no?  It's one thing to risk the health of a stranger, and quite another to risk what might be our only chance to cure you, Master Dwarf."

Cuss clasped his good hand over Dwan's, closing the dwarfs fist as he leaned in to whisper.  "An it's not all about ya, Dwan.  What if that's our only chance to stop that plague before it swallows all of Bauldur's Gate, yeah?"

He leans back and turns to the group as he presents a vial of liquid quickly produced from his belt pouch.  "This will do.  It's some of Nerguhll's brand.  Me thinks it to be a mild paralytic.  It woan go killing anybody, but me coin's on that it'll put an ogre on it's rear, yeah?"

....
[From Spoils: mild paralytic poison.  CON save DC10 or paralyzed for 1 turn.]

[Ao]

Kellar stomps around the armoury, his plate clanking gently as he searches the shelves and chests alongside Gimble and Valeria. The gnome seems rather occupied with his books, and behind him he can hear Emelious plotting a poisoning with the boy.

Artimus sidles up next to him, withdrawing a fresh shirt and a clean pair of boots from a linen trunk.

[Artimus, gained cotton shirt + leather boots]

In a small pouch within the chest, the mariner locates a little trove of silvery jewelry. A necklace, carved with an incredibly gaudy representation of some trader’s conglomerate, and a plain silver ring…

[…]

The dragoon frowns, his eye caught by a muddied, cracked scabbard piled under a mountain of leather armour and shields. Kellar picks it up, the hilt of a longsword revealing itself to him beneath the tightly bound leather sheathe. It’s hilt is ornately carved, and inlaid with three pearls.

[…]

After a time, the fellowship convenes with the bounty of their lootings…

[See the War Chest for a list of items gained…]

[…]

Artimus meditates on the names he has heard, as the boy Brahm takes the satchel of mushrooms and scampers out of the armoury. Emelious watches him leave, his instructions clear.

After securing the pot of soup from the scullery, Brahm would taint the batch with the hallucinogenic poison. As he approaches Keisan’s chamber, he would signal the fellowship through the Kraken’s fist. Both of the guards would have a taste of the soup, and then he would deliver it to Keisan.

A solid plan, to be certain.

The mariner’s mind turns on the name ‘Alshaquiz’ (knowledge check).

He has heard of this man before…a ruthless killer, first mate on the stolen Cormyrean galleon ’Narwhal’. On the northern shore of Refuge Bay, in the Chultean peninsula, the divine warlord Ras Nsi commands a vicious army of pirates and undead. A band of slavers, they operate under the moniker of the ‘Refuge Bay Trading Company’, selling slaves and lumber to other countries in Faerun.

Alshaquiz is known to be among the fiercest of his lieutenants.

[…]

Similarly, Emelious meditates on the name ‘Daste’…but nothing comes to mind.

[…]

Nearly a half hour passes, as you wait patiently in the armoury for Brahm’s word.

Suddenly, Artimus’ ears prick up. It’s Brahm’s voice….

“I…I gave the soup to Gav and Rubin. They collapsed instantly! The noise was loud….what do I do???”

============================

Ok lads, Artimus is liaising with his pendant while Brahm relates his position. Let me know your orders, and if you’re leaving the armoury, etc.

The items are up in The War Chest. You should all head over there and claim whatever you might like.

MVP: Dwan. Love the poisoning idea. Freaking PC’s man. Was NOT expecting that.

[Kellar]

"Anyone want this thing? It's not really my style," said Kellar. He found nothing else of use in his searching. Just the same, I should have more things made at some point. If we make it out of here.

He took a moment and ate a ration with Orbaugh and drank some water. He looked over his gear and tightened a couple straps in his armor and removed his Battleaxe. "It's been a while since we have heard anything from the boy. Do you think something is wrong?" Kellar paced to the door to the armory and listened down the hall. "We should get moving as soon as we can. What do you think?" The golden scales drew over his armor and into his wounds. A slight mending occurred and he felt refreshed. (Used two Hit Die to recover HP).

The golden scales faded into his skin and armor, leaving a few gold tinted scabs where he was wounded. (14 HP recovered).

"If you all are ready, let's get out of here. I'll take point."

Actions:
Kellar recovered HP.
Kellar will take point.
Kellar defers to Artimus for a course of action.
Kellar stealth 12+6= 18
Orbaugh perception 18+4= 22

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D10' : 9, 5

[Valeria Thaemor]

Upon recovering her belongings, Val pulls the items out of the chest one by one, making sure nothing is damaged. She runs her hands up the polished metal of her longsword, her mouth parted slightly. “Hello my pretty. Gods have I missed you!” She murmurs to the blade. She drags her eyes from her precious longsword to study her chainmail. No dents, dings, or blood stains- just how she had left it.

Satisfied with the condition of her items, she takes a moment to glance over to where Gimble is going through his own chest. Already the silly gnome is stroking one of his books like a long lost lover. She rolls her eyes at his behavior- completely ignorant of the fact that she was just doing the same thing with her sword. “It’s just a book, Gimble.” The gnome merely chuckles in response.

Tuning out the ongoing conversation about a poisoning plot, Val scoops up her armor and proceeds to spend several minutes putting it on over the simple clothes she’s currently wearing. Once the armor is finally on, she re-braids her hair and turns her attention back to the others. As her eyes focus on the badly bent arm of one of the men she winces. Hadn’t he asked someone to heal that? Whoops. “Shall I fix your arm?” She moves over and gives him a warm smile. Without waiting for a response, she grabs the limb and quickly but firmly snaps it back into place so that the bone can heal properly. To take the edge off the pain she prays to Sune to lend some of her energies; immediately Val can feel the tingle of healing magics as it leaves her fingertips and transfers to the arm. “There we are!” She gives the man a pat on the back and turns to the others.

Custer regains 7 health

“So uh…what’s the plan again?” One of these days I’ll learn not to tune others out…
Once being filled in about the plan, she waits patiently with the others while the boy brings the now poisoned food up to his masters. After a while with no word, she starts impatiently pacing around. The sooner we get out of this damnable place the better. She nods in agreement at Kellar’s words and gestures to the others to take the lead. Before Gimble can make his way to the front of the group she grabs his collar and pulls him back with her. “I don’t think so.”

Stealth: 6 if needed

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Valeria Thaemor' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D8' : 3

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 4

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#3 'D20' : 12

[Custer Thickett]

Cuss looks up at Val as she reaches for his arm.  He opens his mouth to thank her, but she quickly snaps his bone.  "AH!"  The crunching pain caused him to scream out.  He quickly stifled it by biting onto his good arm's bracer, looking away.  

The pain turned to a gentle caress unknown and unexpected.  Cuss shivered as he turned back to look.  He thought he saw the faint profile of another, but the moment was so fleeting that he was almost certain his eyes were playing tricks on him similar to when he has taken a blow to the head.

The pain was gone, however, and Cuss was able to lift his arm out of the sling that Dwan had fashioned.  He turned his hand over and back, wiggling his fingers.  

He hoped down off the stool he was sitting upon, staring at his good hand with a beaming smile upon his face.  "Ya did it, yeah?  Ya fixed my arm!"

He turned back to the group, "Oiy, boys I got two crossbows with two bolts and two good hands.  Grol and Kesian got slim chances now, no?"

Then he hugged Val around the legs.  "Thank ya, me lady."

...

His excitement fueled, Cuss dives to Kellar's side, looking over the items that he had dug out and presented on the table.

Grabbing a white rod, Cuss held it up to inspect it in the light.  "What's this?"  It felt decently weighted, so Cuss started tossing it end over tumbling end catching each as it flipped, and sending it back up and over.  "Some kind of wand?"

When he heard voices through his necklace, he nearly dropped the thing, but managed to tuck it into his belt while he cradled the pedant with his other hand.  

[Cuss claims the Glowrod.]

He thinks back to Osvald, "Whisper back when ya clear or where ya at if ya not and able, yeah?"

Then he looks up at Kellar, and says, "Doan right sound like Osvald's too happy right now."

Listening to Kellar urge the group to movement, Cuss turns his attention back to the table, and grabs a colorful book.  His hope is rewarded when he sees that it is marked in common, something he could actually read.

"Hey, guys, check it out.  Book of the Fool.  Me thinks Kellar's done gone an found Kesian's own story, yeah?  Artimus, what they say?  Memoir, no?"

He looks back at the book with a smile, but before he can think of a joke about the master plan, he hears the words of the boy.  

He shakes his head and moves for the door behind Kellar.  He's right, we need be moving an we best be quick about it, no?  Might be we should have followed the padfoot."

Along the way he either hands off the book or stows it, so that he can pull, prepare, and arm both of this crossbows with basic poison tipped bolts.  "Somebody whisper which way it is, but otherwise try to keep quiet, no?"

[Stealth]
11 booo

[Perception]
8 booo

Cuss claims Glowrod and doesn't want to see the Book of The Fool left behind, so will take it if nobody else will.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 2

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 7

[Gimble Nabisco Raulnor]

Gimble watches as Val storms over to Cuss. His lips part into a small o, a sentence resting on the edge of his teeth. He knew what Val was going to do, but it was too late. With a cry and a crunch, Cuss's arm healed back into place. Gimble slowly lowers his hand and shakes his head before walking over to where the rest of the group was.

Along the way, an aura catches his eye. It shines steadily from within a wooden chest, like the lights of a cottage in a dark forest. The gnome leans over and unlatches the lid. Peering inside, he sees a pile of various wood carving tools and unfinished works. In the midst of it lies a small stick of driftwood, bone dry and ivory white. His short fingers manage to reach over the chest and grapple the stick, quickly pulling it to safety. Gimble mutters as he looks the wand over. He turns it over and over in his hands before licking it. His already wrinkled face scrunches in on itself as the salt begins to register on his tongue. Coughing and reaching for his waterskin, he tucks the wand into his belt and takes a swig of water before wobbling over to the others.

"There are some very interesting things that this Keisan fellow has collected." Gimble licks his lips. "I truly wonder what he may be keeping in his own chambers upstairs..."

Before Gimble can make his way to the front of the group she grabs his collar and pulls him back with her. “I don’t think so.”

Gimble wiggles his way out of her grasp. He dusts himself off and fixes his robes with an annoyed look on his face. "I can handle myself, young lady. It'd serve you well to not treat me like some priest boy."

1d20+3 Stealth = 19

1d20+1 Perception = 8

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Gimble Nabisco Raulnor' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 16

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 7

[Emelious Storm]

Emelious followed behind the boy, nimbly ducking into alcoves to remain hidden. Not that it mattered. The halls were deserted.

I suppose, this deep in, there really isn’t a need to guard a kitchen…

Brahm entered the scullery and then ducked his head out the door to motion the Half-Elf in. The coast was clear.

“Alright, let’s see what we can cook up...”

The sailor and the chamber-boy set to fixing a pot of soup.

“So, tell me about yourself, Brahm.”

----

With the soup prepared, it was time to put the rest of the plan into motion.

“Okay, so what are you going to do first?”

“Ask the guards to try the soup.”

“Then what?”

“Deliver the soup and then get out.”

“And if someone tries to stop you?”

“I tell them I think I left the stove on.”

“And if you still can’t get away?”

“I call the others on this,” the boy shows the pendant and then tucks it back in his shirt.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

Emelious places a few sacks of grain near the fire; with any luck they would catch fire in a few minutes.  A distraction located away from the action. Hopefully anyone wandering the halls will be drawn there instead of a place where they could overhear the upcoming battle. He damps their fronts to delay their combustion. Wouldn’t want them to ignite too early.

“Ready?”

The boy nods.

----

The cleric waited around the corner as the boy asked the guards to try the soup.

I wonder how long it will-

THUD. Clatter.

Emelious bolted around the corner. The guards muscles had seized and they were collapsed on the ground.

“Call the others tell them what happened.”

The boy grasps the pendant, “I…I gave the soup to Gav and Rubin. They collapsed instantly! The noise was loud,” Brahm turned to Emelious, “What do I do?”

Emelious winked at the kid and then shouted in a gruff voice in an attempt to match the voice of one of the guards; luckily he had overheard their conversation about the soup, “Stupid, boy! Watch where you’re going. Get up there, they’ve been waiting!”

[Deception: 13 + 6 = 19]

Not bad. And with the distortion from the door and stairwell, it was hopefully close enough to not rouse suspicion.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” Brahm smirked and then turned toward the stairs. The cleric stops him and the boy looks puzzled until Emelious tucks the pendant back into his shirt. The boy gives the Half-Elf an embarrassed and grateful smile and then hurries onward, while Emelious sets to dragging the bodies away from the opening.

“Good luck,” Emelious whispers under his breath. Half to the boy, and half as a prayer.

[Dwan Bolduum]

The manic look in Dwan's eyes stayed focused on Custer for a few moments longer. The vial still extended in Dwan's trembling hand. He could feel the red emanating from his closed fist. Red blinding his vision.  Red like Custers blood across the floor...

Suddenly everything becomes cool and Dwan has to balance himself on the ground for a few moments.  He lets out a sigh.

You're right, Cuss.  Rather be safe than sorry.

---------
As the boy takes off towards the council chambers Dwan takes a moment to rub some healing salves on his wounds, using whatever uniforms are nearby to create makeshift bandages. (Using last hit die)

I can't wait to be out by the sea again, Artimus. There is only us and nature out there.  Beats being surrounded by 10,000 orcs that want us dead, right?  he says with a chuckle.

----------------

At the boy's signal Dwan starts down the hallway with the rest of the group.

================================
Hit die: 5
Stealth: 17
Perception: 23 natural 20 baby!!!!!

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Dwan Bolduum' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D8' : 5

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 17

--------------------------------

#3 'D20' : 20

[Artimus DeLonde]

OK so this one is late and out of order.- J'm excuse
-----------------------------

Artimus Held up the ornate,unmistakably classy and in no way tacky necklace , depicting a great trade route. Artimus guided the arms of the golden arches around his neck and clasped it in place and tucked in beneath his black scarf.

The coolness of the metal wicked the warmth from his chest. The gold quickly warmed and melded into his visage, like it had always been there

CLRTCH-

The sickening sound of bone shifting against sinew *blurnmted* out of Custer's arm, righted by the sure grip of the newly armour clad Valeria.

Artimus bent down, retrieving a heavy black crossbow, its frame was engraved with etching of raven's feathers. As he heaved at its expected heft he toppled over backward- it was much lighter than he expected.
[Artimus takes Heavy Crossbow of feathers]

The fiery haired woman focus was unwavered by his clumsy maneuver. Valeria's hands closed over Custer's clipped wing, her true form started to take form- she was some kind of a battle priest, that much was clear, still there was something else about her that seemed other worldly-

"nozhing like zhe touch of a woman, non Cuzter?" Artimus quipped at the wincing Halfling.

Artimus slipped the fresh lined shirt over his head and let it settle into place. It fit well even compared to his tailored guard. Better yet, it was absent the stench of sweat, ichor and the new-found vileness that is Cloaker blood.
[Artimus freshens his look with new vestments- Work it]

Hey, guys, check it out.  Book of the Fool.  Me thinks Kellar's done gone an found Kesian's own story, yeah?  Artimus, what they say?  Memoir, no?"

Oui, Mon ami, in Cormyr we would call zay "mémoire de fou à lier".

Artimus answered with an eager sounding return- as he felt around the linen shirt, his hand stopping on a lump in the pocket- he reached into its shallow nape and returned with an ivory halo- a white polished ring. It was fashion our of narwhale tusk from the northern reaches, an intricate piece of scrimshaw- eyeing it closely it's marking told the story of a sailor's life. Setting sail as a young man, riding a torrid sea as season crewman, at the helm as a grizzled captain and finally awash in the ocean- carried deep to his final rest.
[Artimus takes ring of dead sailor]

Artimus slipped the halo onto his finger. Where his families crest once sat-

The smell of cool salty air filled his nose- a hint at first, then he could hear the cries of men echoing over the slapping against a wooden hull- the rippling of thick cotton sails unraveling- He closed his eyes and fell backward in his mind.

For a moment Artimus Delonde was home-

I can't wait to be out by the sea again, Artimus. There is only us and nature out there.  Beats being surrounded by 10,000 orcs that want us dead, right?  He says with a chuckle.

"Oui Mon ami, oui."

Artimus answered slowly opening the lids of his eyes

"I mizz her like you would mizz the warm kizz of a true love- not zome fleeting zhing but zomething as ancient az the sky- You are right-"

"I will see her again" He said, his voice hung in the air like a promise-

======

Zhe plan, Zhe plannn.., Zhe Plannnnnnnnnn is,

Artimus stretched the words as his considered their next move- Kellar- Custer and Valeria's inquiry sounding their inquiry.

His musing was halted by the awakening of the stirring of the kraken's fist- the voice of Brahm filling the heads of those that wore the token.

News of the guard’s incapacitation-

"We Move!" The Mariner blurted, jumping to his feet only just finishing replacing his boots with the burnished brown leather ones found in the armory.
[Artimus equips- sexier boots- la de frickin da]

Emelious was already out the door- as the Mariner followed.

Before departing, his eyes were snagged ragged looking blade that he had not seen before, despite having looked around the room several times.

He gripped it as he moved toward to exit.

"Put me down” Artimus heard float through his psyche.

Artimus follows Emelious quietly.

[Artimus takes Persilus, Blade of the Agorophobic]

======================================

Ok guys, I took a lot of things there, let me know if anyone would like to grab anything would be happy to-

Much appreciate the call outs- you're too kind to my sporadically posting ass

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Artimus DeLonde' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 1

[Ao]

As Brahm stirs the soup, he looks up at Emelious. The cleric’s question lingers in the air;

“Tell you about me?” he asks, looking back into the pot and biting his lip. The boy is not comely, certainly. His hair is a mussy mop of mousy brown, and his face is adorned with too many freckles. Still, his eyes betray a sharpness about his wit.

“I’m from Maztica. Lived with my da’, he’s a fisherman. He died one morning, pulled out of his boat by a Sahuagin. Me and my uncle El was with him, and I went to jump in but uncle grabbed me by the shoulder and paddled into shore. Wouldn’t let me go, no matter how I kicked and screamed and bit at his fingers. I ran away, down the tradeway. And then Keisan’s soldiers found me and brought me here. Been here for, oh, two months? They let me eat what I want and sleep in my own room. But they’re bad people. I know that.”

He finishes stirring the soup, and pours the poison in without a moment of hesitation…

[…]

Emelious watches the door carefully, Brahm looking back at him one last time. They hold their breath, waiting for any trouble from the clattering noise.

It appears the cleric’s ruse has done the job.

Then, the youth opens the door and disappears quickly.

======================

Ok lads, I’m giving everyone a moment to arrive at the scene here. I’ve affixed a little map for you to take a peek.

[b]Dwan: Solid roll on the perception there. I’ll allow you to keep that roll for the next post rotation.

Let me know where you guys are situating yourselves. I’ll do the rolls for Brahm while you’re posting

MVP: Emelious. Really solid narrative with Brahm, and following him about. Loved it.

[Emelious Storm]

Emelious placed his ear to the nearby door, listening for any sounds that would signify an occupant within.

[Perception: 5 + 6 = 11]

Nothin’.

Emelious gingerly pulled the door open…

Storage.

Nothing much other than some barrels of rainwater and some linens.

Emelious dragged Gav (Or was it Rubin?) inside and with some difficulty propped him against one of the barrels.

The Half-Elf put a hand to his chin as he assessed his handiwork. It needed a final touch. The Cleric flung one of the linens over the guard’s tensed form.

Perfect.

“Ahem.”

Emelious turned to see the party.

“Uh… you want to help me with the other one?”

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Emelious Storm' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 5

[Artimus DeLonde]

Artimus slid out the door, unravelling the leather trappings that encircled the rough hewn sheath that housed the Longsword he'd scooped up as he went.

"I SAID put me DOWN!"

Artimus shot a glance down toward the sound- a hoity empiric voice-.  His eyes  focused in the dim  light on the outline of a face co-elessing from the blade's hilt where there was previously none. the face was ring-ed with age, beer wide bald forehead the flowed into a stern chin,  wearing apursed mouth and slightly in-turned set ofs eyes that bulged  slightly as he spoke.

"Yes. YOU Cormyrian, I said PUT ME BACK, I was quite comfortable indeed, back there, in the armoury where you FOUND me. Who are you to disturb my rest -Vagabond! Thief!

The Mariner shot a hand over the old man's face, muffling the insults and demands it hurled-

Artimus eyes darted - back and then forth in disbelief and contempt- slowly raising the blade- still sheathed- to eye level.


"Je suis Artimus Delonde, Mazter of Zword and Zail-" He lieved with wieght of certainty and a kind of muted celebration sing-songing his words evere so slightly.
   
"Zhat meanz if you do what I zay you many not end at zhe be up at zhe bottom of zhe ocean or in zhe handz of zome  Cyric Madman- or how you zay, extralpanar tranverzion Phenominom-  It'z a zhing. [Ancient Outsider-Hall of the Makers].

Comprende pas?

The Mariner did not wait for an answer, tying the sword in place on his right hip-
1d20  Intimidation on sword - setting opening tone on relationship 19+3= 22  Success
------

Down the hall Artimus spied Emelious, already heaving one of the downed guards to a pile of barrels. The wind was behind this, the storm on sea priest's shield seemed to be always at his back- his sails full.

Surely a gift from his patron Tempest- Red-haired, Impressively muscled and athletic- Merciless and brutal. Heretic -or so you would hear- shouted by some Sambian too rich with wine.

The War Wizard's of Cormyr would say wreckless- hapless - rude

Artimus could see his own truth of it- As the waves rose and fell, as Tide ebbed and fell and Rose bleached day turned night.

That the calms seas could not exist for be without torpid storm-

And the unpredictable rage of tempest could only be matched by the pristine face of the Moommaiden Selûne.- Her cool touch quieting the seas.

Artimus signaled a salute to the half-elf as he hauled one of the felled men. He skulked to the second convulsing man, form that flanked the door.

A sharp exhale echoed through the hall the mariner heave effected man. lifting with one arm under the armpit and the other triangled around the guards throat- - he was oddly warm and seemed to shake slightly-in the grip of the toxin.
The man went limp- it might kill them in the weakened state- but it was needed- this man was no innocent-
“zhis iz it- we ztand at the  breach.... can you feel it? death- so close - I hope it not ours Mon ami.-“  Artimus whispered to the ocean cleric- as the hunched aside the barrels

{Artimus will choke the other out too if no else does]
1d20 grapple\athletics  16+3  19 success

===

Artimus stood adjusted all new trappings finding the balance of the load- searching to centre himself

He checked and rechecked the raven etched bow- it's string was thick, and taught- the latches clean and grip steady. It appeared it was ready to be fired. Artimus wished he could test fire it- the payload was sweet- the bolt had been marinating in dark green posioners draught.

Artimus plucked the deadly missile from its half silo considering it- Should this even wing Kesian- it would usher him to through to the other side where he would suffer a life after branded as a fallen angel to a mad god-

He could not afford to miss-  

For the rarest of moments, Captain Delonde felt a drop of doubt fall into a sea of bravado.

The Mariner looked down the hall for Custer Thicket,

Nowhere to be seen- a common theme- he checked the next most likely pace, spinning around and checking his blind side back and to the right.

Nothing-

For the second time his eyes searched the darkened hall-

"Cuss.....Cuss?" he questioned in sharp whispers.

[Artimus offers Cuss the Arrow for the taking, and loads a fresh bolt.]
**Deadly paralytic poison (CON save DC18, or paralyzed for 1 minute. 1D10 damage every minute thereafter, until saved, or death)
"Zhis bolt carrierz zhe poizonerz blackezt promize, I believe zhe ladiez you keep at you zide will be zhe right mezzengerz...delivered to zhe heart of zhis mad cult."

Artimus takes up position aside the door with heavy cross bow loaded and in hand. He's aside the door on the next to door where  Dwan listened ..  This would not be able to take the tower without a fight. He had heard the stories of the power of the djinn. the toxin might not even stagger anyone  one with even a cup of blood.
===================================

1d20 stuff
1d20 other stuff

paging dr ralesh patel
paging dr ralesh patel
Hope your prostate exam went well AO

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Artimus DeLonde' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 19

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 7

[Gimble Nabisco Raulnor]

Gimble follows the rest of the group as they sneak their way up the tower. "Might as well see this through. Can't let this Keisan feller get his hands on the rod..." He stays towards the back of the group, minding his own business and looking around at the craftsmanship and architecture. He gets distracted rather often, and finds himself engulfed in studying a carving or pattern, only to realize that the group had moved further down the hall or up the stairs. The gnome keeps the sharp metal tip of his cane off the tiled floor as to not alert the entirety of the tower to the group's presence.

Gimble furrows his brow as he listens to the talking and yelling from within the room. He stands back from the others; his old, frail bones couldn't take a hit from a weapon anymore. Hand gripped tightly on his walking cane, he parts his lips just a bit. His tongue raises itself from the bottom of his jaws like a cobra ready to strike as he prepares to mutter words of power.

[Ao]

Artimus leans against the doorway, his weightless Heavy Crossbow nestled in his arms. Emelious sidles up beside him, staring out across the hallway to the staircase, where Dwan is creeping towards the enormous double doors of Keisans chambers.

Behind them, Kellar stands with Cuss, Gimble and Val. They cradle their weapons, not sure what to expect in this evolving altercation.

Dwans feet pad silently up the staircase. He can feel the others' eyes upon his back as he listens against the door.

Muffled voices, to be sure. But he can hear...

"What is this...?" Says a sing-song male voice, followed by a cacophony of muttering and grumblings from the speakers audience.

Dwan hears a high voice, probably Brahms, respond in turn. And then, the sound of flesh slapping flesh.

The dwarf's neck prickles, as he wonders to the extent of the young boys situation. But in a moment, he hears footsteps beyond.

Quickly stepping aside, he watches as the door cracks open, brahm stepping out quickly. His cheek is rosy and red, but his eyes twinkle with the delight of the vengeful.

And then - they widen, and he speaks.

"What...now?"

Suddenly, Dwan hears a horrible sound, and a loud shout echo out from inside the chamber.

"Fuck-poison! Don't just stand there you fucking idiots, bring me the fucking boy!"

You can hear the sounds of scrambling within.

====================

Ok guys, you're across the hall from where this is happening.

The doors are, inevitably, about to bust open. What's your strategy?

Dwan, you're next to the boy. He's scared - I'll need you to make an appropriate social check to get him to follow your orders, or he's going to do something unpredictable...

The rest of you - what's your position?

Mvp: Artimus. The sword! Wonderful introduction to the crusty agoraphobe

[Emelious Storm]

With the guards stashed, Emelious joins Dwan at the door. Without a pendant the Half-Elf was completely reliant on sound to judge Brahm’s safety, and he wasn’t going to take any chances. He’d already lost enough people over the last two weeks; Brahm would not be joining that list. Maybe after this Emelious could find a place for him in-

“What is this...?" An unpleasant voice demands from behind the door. The Cleric’s blood goes cold.

What have I done? If Brahm doesn’t-

SLAP.

The definitive sound of a palm connecting with a face shakes through Emelious. The Sailor’s muscles tense as he fights the urge to burst through the door.

No. Wait. Wait. Give the boy a chance.

Footsteps. Light ones. Advancing toward the door. Emelious and Dwan share a quick look, stepping out of the way as the door swings open...

Brahm! Red-checked, but grinning; the young man had completed his mission.

"What... now?"

Before Emelious can respond a commotion erupts within the chamber.

"Fuck-poison! Don't just stand there you fucking idiots, bring me the fucking boy!"

Emelious places a hand on Brahm’s shoulder and speaks in hushed haste as he guides him away from the door, “Keep to the plan. Get somewhere safe and stay in contact with the pendant."

Emelious makes a fist and places it on the boy’s back, a warrior's embrace; a gesture taught to him by his father.

"Valkur guide you.”

----

Emelious turned back to the door and glanced about at his compatriots.

This was it.

The Half-Elf’s heart thumped against his leathers, and he wondered if it would have been audible in the absense of the approaching footfalls.

The cleric raises his shield. And at that moment it was more than a piece of wood. It was Valkur and it was a promise. Emelious Storm would hold back the tide.

----

[Emelious uses the dodge action.]

[Persuasion: 9 + 6 = 15]

[Sorry if this post messes with the narrative. I placed Emelious at the door because... well, that's where he would be. He has developed a report with Brahm and doesn't have a pendant currently. Ultimately he feels responsible for his wellbeing. I would have placed him there myself, but I wanted to give other's a chance to post before I continued on.]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Emelious Storm' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 6, 9

[Kellar]

"Brahm, are there any windows in the chamber," asked Kellar as he grabbed the pendant.

He approached the left side of the door and swiveled his Battleaxe in his hands. The impending threat of battle provoked the golden scales to envelope his armor. (Blade Ward used).

One more fight. Two more people with us, we might be able to pull this off.

Kellar nodded to Custer. "Time to fly. You with me on this one? When the door opens, I'll hurl you through the opening (don't worry Orbaugh will glide you to a landing), and assassinate Keisan," he said. Orbaugh danced around Kellar's shoulders excitedly.

If Custer agrees: Orbaugh dropped to the floor and then scurried up to Custer's shoulders, wings at the ready to expand.
If Custer disagrees: "Well, maybe next time," he said with a grin and ruffled Custer's hair.

"Gimble, do you have something that goes boom or can engulf multiple targets? What about you Dwan, anything left in the tank," asked Kellar. 'If you have something, use it as soon as the doors open, and then we can enter and smash the rest. What do you think?"

This 'should' work...

"Artimus, I'll lead in after Gimble and Dwan light them up. I'll go left with Valeria and you and Emelious go right?"

"Let's do this."

Kellar crouched low, prepared to leap into the air (After I toss Custer, or will leap into the room if he doesn't want to be tossed).

Actions:
Athletics: 9+8= 17 (To Toss Custer)
Athletics: 14+8= 22 (To Leap into the Room)

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 9

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 14

[Valeria Thaemor]

At the sight of the boy coming out from behind the doors with only a red cheek, Val breathes a sigh of relief. She positions herself by the left side of the doorway behind Kellar and mindlessly draws her longsword, the metal becoming an extension of her arm.

“What now?” The boy asks. Before anyone can reply more noise comes from within and heavy footsteps begin approaching the door. Val grips her sword tighter and prepares to burst into the room and attack the first person she sees.

“I’ll go left with Valeria and you and Emelious go right.”

She gives a nod of affirmation at Kellar’s words. “I’ll be right behind you.”

[Custer Thickett]

Custer drops his pack to the ground and grabs at Brahm when he moves from Emelious to run.  "Hold up, boy.  I nee that rag tied around ya head, yeah?  Be quick about it.  I nee that smock of a shirt ya wearing as well.  Take me cloak here."

Cuss helps the boy pull off his shirt and swipes it with his old gray travel cloak.  Cuss tosses the pendant of Cyric he had stolen from a corpse over Brahm's head to complete the look.  In a flash, they are both disguised.  

[Sleight of hand for speed if needed. +6]
23

[Disguise, once for Brahm and an advantage roll for me.  I'm going to get Kellar's help. +8]

[Me]
21

[Brahm]
12

"Take me pack an drop it in that big chest in tha armory, yeah?  If ya've nowhere better to hide, climb inside.  Just lay the flat of your fancy knife here across the latch to keep it from locking ya inside."

[Assiting Brahm on his hide check if he takes my advice.]

Cuss slings his father's light crossbow across his back, the arrow Artimus had given him ready in the flight groove clasp.  Everything else he needed for a fight was on his belts.

He holds his two hand crossbows, Maith and Olc, both loaded with poisoned bolts.  They are in his hands held low behind his back.  He stands in front of Kellar, his head tilted low to hide the obvious differences between Brahm's face and his own.

Together, they should pass for guard and prisoner.  They only needed a brief moment's surprise.

Orbaugh clutched his claws into the leather armor on Cuss's back.

Cuss says to Kellar, "Doan just go throwing me, and doan let them open the doors either.  Val and Emelious, open them just enough for Keller and I to step through, then peak around."

"Kell, yell, 'I got em!' or something like that.  They should pause at least long enough for ya to look up the table."

"If his laughing mask is smiling back at us, throw me at Kesian before he recognizes ya.  If not, best just let me go to loose my bolts at the closest ones and then run up under the table, yeah?"

,,,,,,,,

I can't believe I'm going to let you throw me, ass.  

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 17

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 4

--------------------------------

#3 'D20' : 5, 1

[Custer Thickett]

Rerolling the one, Halfling's Luck.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 13

[Dwan Bolduum]

Dwan listens at the door as Brahm hurries out. A few moments later he hears the cries from those inside the room.

We are about to have company. He says as he moves back from the door. Everything starts to move fast as it always does before an ambush.

What about you Dwan, anything left in the tank?

Dwan nods as he continues moving down the hall. I've got something for when they come out of the door. Give them room and watch your step, I wouldn't want any of you slipping, he says with a smile moving over his face.

Once Dwan has moved about 75 feet down the hall he turns around. This will only last as long as I can hold my focus, so I'll do my best.

With that Dwan moves his scepter into his hand and closes his eyes as the willow branches start dancing in an intricate pattern. The room temperature drops 10 degrees suddenly and the air becomes moist.

On the ceiling above the door, hints of fog can be seen, and a heavy rain falls to the ground, the drops becoming ever thicker until a thick layer of sleet surrounds the door. The sleet starts to clump together as the stone floors cool the liquid into a solid patch of ice.

--------------------------------------------
Dwan casts sleet storm. (lvl 3) The area around the door is icy and counts as difficult terrain. Any creatures entering the area or starting their turn there have to make a DC 14 dex save or they fall prone. While the sleet is falling the area around the door is heavily obscured.

[Gimble Nabisco Raulnor]

"Gimble, do you have something that goes boom or can engulf multiple targets?

Gimble looks up at the dragoon, eyes full of mischief. "This old wizard has a trick or two up his sleeves. I hope you're not afraid of fireworks. I think you'd like to see my entire collection, but I couldn't bring such a tome with me on my travels. Who knows what these barbarians would have done if they had gotten their hands on it... Now, let me remember the ritual here..." Gimble takes his stance behind his more heavily armored companions. His eyes roll up to the ceiling and his short fingers run through his beard as he attempts to remember the gestures and words that he must utter for the spell to work. His recall is interrupted when Dwan casts an icy blanket over the doors and hallway. ""Goodness me, my lad. You'll have to teach me how to do that one of these days. It would certainly make the process of brewing chilled tea much easier.."

[Ao]

Bram looks into the eyes of the halfling as he dresses him hastily, the whole interaction taking less than five seconds.

“Okay.” whispers the youth, turning to run, the thick coin purse jingling at his side.

[…]

Artimus and Val crack the door in one swift motion, Kellar’s voice ringing out as the dragoon’s eyes take in the room.

’I got him!’

As the words leave his lips, Kellar locks eyes with a familiar figure at the other end of this enormous stateroom.

Keisan.

The cleric, adorned in his laughing skull mask, stands with the arrogant stature that Kellar instantly recognizes from the last time they saw him. Long, purple robes flow over the darkest of leathers and cascade down the head of an enormous great-table, where he is standing at the head.

On the floor, an enormous orc looms over a dainty female, who is convulsing madly. A bowl of spilled soup lays on the ground beside her, dark hair forming a crown around her face which blisters with pustules and boils.

Evidently, she was the hungriest. The first to sup on the poisonous delicacy.

Kellar watches as the room freezes, and knows that this is his moment to act. Behind him, he can already hear Artimus and Emelious charging in, flanking the east side of the room. And Valyria no doubt would be running for the west.

Enormous colonnades adorn this room, which is separated into three distinct sitting areas. Two smaller ones, positioned around respective hearths on the east and west of the chamber. And, an enormous great table, where Keisan and his advisors sit.

Beyond them, a wall of windows welcome the light of the moon. White light spills onto the oleander carpets that plushly strewn about the floors, under dark lacquered furniture.

It smells of incense. A deep, perfumed mixture of cloves and sage that chokes the air and leaves a thick haze before your eyelids.

Keisan raises his hand, pointing towards the dragoon as he heaves Custer through the air. With his other hand, he tucks a heavy brass implement from the table into his robes.

The compass.

The cleric’s lieutenants rise from their positions, brandishing their weapons. Chaos is unfolding, the polished-armor orcs that guard the room turning to engage their interlopers.

The dragoon does a quick head count;

Two acolytes, standing in front of the row of windows perhaps sixty feet away.
Four elite orc guardsmen, stationed in front of the decorative colonnades.
Keisan, and his four lieutenants…

Even as they spring into action, Kellar has the peace of mind to identify them. Custer is soaring through the air now, but Kellar’s mind slows the situation down to a crawl.

On the left side of the table, hefting an enormous battle axe…the chieftain of Clan Maul, Grol. The brute’s eyes burn with hatred as he stares back with a look of recognition. That was Anna’s father’s axe in his hands. It would cut deep.

Behind him, already slinking off to the shadows, a man in dark black and purple leathers holds two long dirks in his hands. The way he moves speaks to his discipline as a trained killer. Undoubtedly Daste, the assassin.

A tanned, muscled man standing nearly seven feet tall flanks the right side of the table, with an enormous great sword in his hands. His chest is bare, save a metal plate that covers from his collar bone to below the breast. His hair is done up in a tight topknot, and his eyes glimmer with a heritage that cannot only be human.

Alshaquiz the half-djinn, undoubtedly.

On the floor beside him, the convulsing woman must be the spymistress Maurei. One of the four elite orcs tends to her, watching as she falls deeper and deeper into a paralytic coma.

“Kill them.” whispers Keisan, in that sing-song voice.

===============================

Ok lads and lasses. I’ve attached a map of the encounter to familiarize yourself with. Assume that Keisan is about 50 feet away from you, and gauge distance accordingly.

Custer, I’ll allow you to narrate your being thrown through the air. Adjudicate as you see fit - I’ll give you disadvantage against any attacks against you for this coming round for the surprise.

If any of you want to attack Daste this round, I need a perception check DC20 to do so.

MVP: Custer, for the delicate planning!



Keisan

[Gimble Nabisco Raulnor]

Gimble stands before the double doors, a spell readied on the tip of his fingers. As the massive blocks swing open, he glimpses inside the room and lets out a quiet "Oooh."

"What an interesting gathering of creatures, don't you say?", he sings to no one in particular. The gnome holds up his small hands and mutters a quick incantation before snapping his fingers. "Ibafarshan turalisjth." A small shower of sparks spew forth from his fingertips, followed by the sound of massive amounts of air being moved from within the room. Almost instantaneously, a large sphere of flame grows from a mote of fire. It swallows the head of the table, as well as the those who stand around it (20 ft radius sphere). As the orb grows, it begins to shape into a large, serpent-like dragon. Scales slide over scales as it writhes in its coiled form. The maw of the beast opens and lets out a silent roar, filled in by the sound of flames consuming fuel and air, before the creature explodes into a cloud of embers and soot.

Satisfied with his work, Gimble smiles and skips out of the way to take position behind a burlier, heavily armored companion.

8d6 = 33 Fire damage; DC 15 Dex save for half.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Gimble Nabisco Raulnor' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D6' : 4, 2, 4, 6, 3, 5, 6, 3

[Dwan Bolduum]

*alright lets fix the spell I cast last time. little bit of copy and pasting.*

Once the doors open and Custer is tossed inside Dwan can see the orcs gathered around the table. He takes a few steps back and stays behind his allies and the door.

Once Custer fires his crossbows, Dwan starts to move his scepter into his hand and closes his eyes as the willow branches start dancing in an intricate pattern. The room temperature drops 10 degrees suddenly and the air becomes moist.

On the ceiling above the door, hints of fog can be seen, and a heavy rain falls to the ground, the drops becoming ever thicker until a thick layer of sleet engulfs the room. The candelabras on the table and the fires in the back of the room snuff out. The sleet starts to clump together as the stone floors cool the liquid into a solid patch of ice.

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Dwan casts sleet storm. (lvl 3) and focuses the spell towards the back of the room, the edge of the area is at the front of the table. The storm covers a 40ft radius. This area is icy and counts as difficult terrain. Any creatures entering the area or starting their turn there have to make a DC 14 dex save or they fall prone. While the sleet is falling the area is heavily obscured.

Since this spell kind of puts a bit of a hindrance on us I only plan on holding the spell for one turn, unless you all advise otherwise.

[Custer Thickett]

Cuss found himself subconsciously holding his breath in anticipation.  All time seemed to slow, and all sound seemed muffled to near silence as the doors creaked open to reveal the room beyond.  In the center of the widening gap, at the end of a long table, was exactly the sight the original fellowship had been hoping for.  

The laughing mask of Kesian.  The cleric they had met when he was in the company of clan Maul at their camp in the marshes of brown waste.  The cleric that had worked with Grol to usurp Anna's father, and corrupt the clan to follow the promises of a mad Halfling that had ascended to the power of a God through lies and murder.  The cleric that betrayed him and his friends after promises of a peaceful meal at his table.

Undoubtedly the cleric that watched Esmeltaran burn with a sneer of satisfaction behind his mask.  

In a way, Kesian had saved Cuss from himself, as he became the focus of the Tickett's obsessive need to understand fate.  The man surely had nothing to do with the death of his love, Agata, but there was no question that he had a hand in the burning of his home, and the disappearance of his family.

Cuss may never see his sister again, and for that, he blamed this man.  

Kesian raised a pointed finger in his direction as Cuss's lithe muscles twitched, ready for what would come next.  

He feels his feet leave the ground, and the still air come alive as it brushed past the uncovered skin on his cheeks.  He tucks his head forward, throwing his body into a front flip that would use the forward momentum of Kellar's throw to bring his feet down flat onto the table.  As his body rotates, he extends his arms, Olc and Maith in each hand.  He heaves them forward as he lands, leveling them in Kesian's surprised gaze.

With a delicate pull of each finger, the weapons sing their song as the strings snap forward and their silver runes glimmer with power.  Twing!  Twing!

[Assassinate attempt]
Shot 1: 19
Shot 2: 23

As the bolts scream forward, Cuss yells behind them, "For Esmeltaran!"

After they had both bit into Kesian's flesh just above his cold heart, the rest of the room came into focus as if it had stepped forward out of a desert mirage.  Out of the corner of Cuss's left eye, he saw something that would have made his heart sink if it were not beating with a furious thirst for vengeance.

Grol was hefting Anna Maul's axe.

It drew enough of his attention that as his eyes dart left and right.  He realizes he is in the center of the room and exposed with freezing rain falling around him.

He drops off the left edge of the table, careful to not be between Valyria and Grol as he hear's Kesian's voice sing, "Kill them."

[Dex save verse sleet storm.  All creatures, right?]
11 Thank goodness for Ao's saying attacks against me get disadvantage, whew!

The words seem to float across the room and push Cuss's feet out from under him, as he slips backwards and falls flat on his back.  Oufff!
....

Landing on the table, shooting Kesian, then dropping off the side with Grol behind Valyria and promptly busting my ass on Dwan's ice.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 10, 12

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#2 'D20' : 1, 16

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#3 'D20' : 5

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