# The Game of Kings



## Ringmereth (Jul 6, 2006)

*The Game of Kings*
An Eberron Adventure

Cast of Characters
*Player*...............................................*Character*
Bront..............Carver Banderelli, Warforged Artificer
stonegod...............................Vhir, Kobold Warlock
MadMaxim....................Partash, Kalashtar Archivist
James Heard.............Dragen Kessler, Human Fighter
Bobitron...................Glasia Domarus, Human Wizard
Isida Kep'Tukari.........Morika Kevsecks, Shifter Druid
Deuce Traveler.........Doral Kinsman, Half-Elf Beguiler

Links
OOC Thread 
Rogue's Gallery


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## Ringmereth (Jul 6, 2006)

Seven figures walk onto an old wooden dock as a crisp wind blows in from the seaside and causes shivers to run down the spines of those ill-dressed for the Lhazaar coast. Behind the group lies Tantamar, a peaceful town dotted with inns and storehouses of brick worn smooth by long years and heavy rain. Its winding streets have been alive with muffled bustle for hours as the morning light shines in over Cape Far to the east.

Smaller piers jut from the town's seafront, but by this hour only a few vessels with chipping paint and patched sails remain moored along the edges of the rickety docks. The fishermen who make each day's wages on the chilly waters have long since departed, and now only a handful of merchant sailors in ragged clothing labor along the wharf. Their loud voices, the crying of seagulls and children in town, and the constant lapping of waves against the dock's supports are the accompaniment to the steady footsteps of the mismatched group as they stride down the weathered column of creaking planks.

At the far end of the dock, a magnificent galleon with fresh-painted lines of blue stands in stark contrast to the unpolished town. A wide tower is built on the stern of the ship, and as the seven approach the vessel from its starboard side, they each notice a ring of swirling vapor held in place by four wooden supports at the rear of the structure. A bold painting of a grey shark decorates the vessel's bow, its exaggerated maw curved into a toothy grin. Two half-orcs in shining chainmail flank the gangplank, and while their wary eyes run up and down the pier now and again, they seem more focused on whispered banter than guard duty. A few yards away, an aging man in tasteful black finery stands tall, his thin grey hair fluttering in the wind as he watches the seven approach.


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## Bront (Jul 6, 2006)

"Is Elinvath the elderly man or is he one of the two half-orcs?" Carver asks to whoever happens to be near him.  He approaches out of curiosity as much as anything else.


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## stonegod (Jul 6, 2006)

*Vhir, Kobold Warlock*

The shortest amongst the seven is also the most finely dressed. Traveling clothes they may be, but fine ones they are, and well maintained. The short one walks purposefully, a rhythmic _tap... tap_ of a darkwood walking stick following. In the muted morning light, the dull red of a bloodstone at the top of the cane can occasionally be seen. But, the most unusual aspect of the diminutive stranger is that... its a kobold.

Kobolds are an uncommon sight in the mountains of Zilargo; a rare few can be found kicking around the lower towers of Sharn. But this kobold is obviously civilized, for lack of a better term, and a strange presence seems to surround it. Could be the odd dress, or the dusky purple skin, or the glow in its red eyes. But there is something... unsettling and compelling about the short one.

As they walk down the peer, the kobold casts an appraising eye at each of the other seven, measuring them somehow. Its right eye opens a bit wider as it hears the warforged speak, as if the construct's tone was not the one it expected. When the kobold responds, it is succinct.

"I would suspect Master Sargessean to be the elder gentleman, construct. The others seem to be nothing more than guards."

No lisp. No cringing in the voice. An odd kobold indeed.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 6, 2006)

*Partash, Male Kalashtar Archivist*

Partash slowly approaches the gangplank and the two half-orcs. "I gather they're his bodyguards and..." Answering the warforged's question. But he's quickly interrupted by the kobold who seems rather intent on putting he warforged in its place.

Though he's wearing suitable clothing, he's obviously feeling cold and uncomfortable. He wonders what this man will be able to offer him in his pursuit for knowledge. Will he offer him money to fund his research or can he offer him something far greater...?


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## Bront (Jul 6, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> "I would suspect Master Sargessean to be the elder gentleman, construct. The others seem to be nothing more than guards."
> 
> No lisp. No cringing in the voice. An odd kobold indeed.



"Oh, well that makes sense too.  I'm not a construct by the way, I'm a living construct, or more specificly a warforged.  Personaly, I think of myself as Carver.  Do you think that Construct is a more appropriate name for me?  I don't think Construct Banderelli has the same ring to it, do you?"  Carver did not seem offended or otherwise bothered by the coment, and is tone is rather matter of fact.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 6, 2006)

*Morika, female shifter druid*

Behind the party slinks a shifter woman, lithe in movement, heavily muscled, her braided hair tossed out of her face, her short stature made shorter by her crouched posture.  She wears battered leather armor, well-made under the coating of road dust, bears a fine haversack on her back, carries a seemingly-new dark wood shield on her left arm, and has a sickle in her belt.  Her face is, to be blunt, ugly.  Her forehead is heavy and brutish, her eyebrows and sideburns are explosively hairy, and her tanned face is seamed with small scars.  Dark gray eyes glare at the group as if they're personably responsible for her obvious bad mood.

She crouches to one side, and listens to the others for a moment before snorting like a hyena.  "No one who writes like that could be a half-orc.  If _you_ lot got the same letter _I_ did then you wouldn't be asking such stupid questions," she half-snarls.  Her voice is like that of a crow, harsh and grating, and her teeth, when seen, are very, very sharp...  "So, are you here for the job or just to entertain me?"


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## stonegod (Jul 6, 2006)

*Vhir, Kobold Warlock*



			
				Bront said:
			
		

> "Oh, well that makes sense too.  I'm not a construct by the way, I'm a living construct, or more specificly a warforged.  Personaly, I think of myself as Carver.  Do you think that Construct is a more appropriate name for me?  I don't think Construct Banderelli has the same ring to it, do you?"  Carver did not seem offended or otherwise bothered by the coment, and is tone is rather matter of fact.



The kobold makes its right eye widen again; one something with hair, it would probably be similar to raising an eyebrow. "Your name is as your maker gave it or as your gave yourself after your maker. It is no consquence; all names are known to the Progenitors." The kobold's voice is not cold but measured. It too seems to speak matter-of-factly.


			
				Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> "So, are you here for the job or just to entertain me?"



The kobold turns slightly, eyeing the shifter for a moment. Again, that measuring look. It then slowly turns its head to the construct---living or no, it is that---and waits for its response.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 6, 2006)

_"Poncy squeeker,"_ she mutters under her breath when the kobold looks at her.


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## Bront (Jul 6, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> She crouches to one side, and listens to the others for a moment before snorting like a hyena.  "No one who writes like that could be a half-orc.  If _you_ lot got the same letter _I_ did then you wouldn't be asking such stupid questions," she half-snarls.  Her voice is like that of a crow, harsh and grating, and her teeth, when seen, are very, very sharp...  "So, are you here for the job or just to entertain me?"



"I'm sorry, i've only met one Half-Orc before, and that was Pendant Shava.  He was a druid who spoke quite well, and I could only assume might be able to write the same," Carver says.  "And why would I be here to entertain you?  Is there entertainment coming?"


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 6, 2006)

"Apparently, and you're it, Stone Bones.  I'm Morika, if you need to get my attention," she says with a careless wave of her hand, and goes back to scrutinizing her potential employer and companions.


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## Bobitron (Jul 6, 2006)

Glasia is silent as she walks toward the pier, her voluminous traveler's cloak covering her features. She carries the covered birdcage at her side, obviously tiring from the weight. Approaching the shark-festooned ship, she notices others walking up as well. She cringes at the sight of the band of what must be adventurers, but steels herself and steps forward. _The letter did say part of a group,_ she thought, pursing her lips as she studied the group from the depth of her hood.

A finely-dressed and sharp-tongued kobold. A warforged, complete with the innocent attitude she had experienced in the others she had met. A shifter, dangerous and doing her best to show it. A rather nondescript half-elf. A pale and slender man with a somewhat otherwordly feel about him. A hard-faced man with haunted eyes. 

_Some companions._ Her mind was already raising the doubts that had plagued her since leaving on the lightning rail so long ago. _This looks more like a gang of criminals than heroes. If Father saw me here..._

A faint noise from the cage snaps her attention back to the situation at hand. Making a quiet hushing sound, she removes the crumpled letter from her pocket and steps up to the guards, laboring with the bulk of the cage.

"I am here to see Elinvath Sargessean," she says softly but clearly. "My name is Glasia Domarus." Her pale and slender hand extends, clutching the paper.


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## stonegod (Jul 6, 2006)

When the warforged replies to the shifter, the kobold nods slightly, as if it expected the response. If it heard the quiet whispers of the shifter, it made no sign.


			
				Bobitron said:
			
		

> A faint noise from the cage snaps her attention back to the situation at hand. Making a quiet hushing sound, she removes the crumpled letter from her pocket and steps up to the guards, laboring with the bulk of the cage.



The kobold turns its gaze to the new coming walking awkwardly under the weight. At the noise from her belongings, its nose twitches a moment, as if smelling something. With a keen eye, it notes that this other walks away from the rest.


			
				Glasia said:
			
		

> "I am here to see Elinvath Sargessean," she says softly but clearly. "My name is Glasia Domarus." Her pale and slender hand extends, clutching the paper.



As the woman speaks her question, the kobold stops. It crosses its finger over its walking stick, and places its enlongated snout on top of them. It looks quietly at the girl and the old man, obviously waiting.


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## Bront (Jul 6, 2006)

Carver begins to say something again, but sees the girl approach and speak, so he chooses to say nothing and listen.

Once she finished speaking, "Yes, I'm here to see Elinvath as well.  I'm Carver Banderelli."

_OOC: Note, warforged with last names are extremely odd, let alone one who has a common gnome name._


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## James Heard (Jul 6, 2006)

The man carrying the long object wrapped in oil skins simply shook his head at the discussion. His bloodshot, half-open eyes seemed to confirm a rough night in the cups, but they still didn't seem to miss the details, effortlessly pausing on each of the people on the dock and seeming to measure them. The off-white of his open shirt seemed to be a natural consequence of time, but  very little care had been given to the half-stitched holes and split seams. In contrast, the malicious-looking foreign leather armor he wore almost glistened from a fresh oiling. There was no telling how early an obvious drunk as himself had to get up this day to manage that.

Disregarding the conversation, he silently offered to aid the young girl carrying the cage. _And so we send our children off to die again, in the name of need and glory._ His smile deepened, but that smile still, never, reached his eyes. _To the dark with it. The world's just one dance where all the dancers die, time to play the tune again._

"What they said." he said simply, with the slight accent of a Karrnathian peasant. "Where are the business partners?"


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## Ringmereth (Jul 6, 2006)

As the group slows to chat and bicker amongst themselves, the man in black at the end of the dock approaches them. His slim frame is garbed in finely tailored black silk with silver buttons and buckles sewn on liberally, and a cape trimmed with gold billows behind him as he stides down the length of the wharf. He carries a hefty purple bag, as well, and its weight effects his gait slightly.

"Greetings. I'm _most_ pleased to meet you all in the flesh," the man says with a warm voice as a small smile appears on his untanned face, which displays faint wrinkles. "If you'll forgive the generality, Mr. Banderelli," he adds, nodding to the Warforged as he sets the bag he carries down at his feet. "I am Elinvath Sargessean, as I'm sure you've assumed. Time, I'm afriad, is not plentiful, and I regret that we must turn so quickly to buisness. I cannot accompany you to Port Verge, but I trust that you'll all use the voyage to acquaint yourselves with each other. I'm sure you have many questions for me, but I'm afraid you'll have to make do with what I tell you now: as I expressed in my letter, I have a task of great importance awaiting you, but I've encountered an unfortunate setback." 

"A minor affair between local pirates has arisen, and caught up in the middle of it all is an old sea baron. An elf," he adds. "His name is Gaardasci, and his sons who rule the Blacksurf Principality and... rather foolishly indulge in indiscriminate piracy have caught the ill will of the Prince of Port Verge and the Direshark Principality." He chuckles and points over his shoulder to the emblem on the ship's bow. "That Prince, a man named Kolberkon, seems to have sent men to kidnap the old baron, and from what I've heard, he demands a high ransom from Gaardasci's marauding sons. I wouldn't involve you or myself in this squabble by choice, but Gaardasci has vital information, and we need him alive and well, and free, as soon as we can."

Elinvath sighs for a moment. "I'm asking you to retrieve this prisoner by any means necessary, but I must add that if the Prince finds that outside interests such as mine have a stake in Gaardasci's freedom, obtaining it may be all the more difficult. If you decide to negotiate for his release, do so in the guise of hired hands of Gaardasci's sons. Their names are Hesr'lan and Jedernis."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 6, 2006)

As the companions introduce each other, the half-elf pleasantly smiles at each one in turn, although he only gives the antagonistic Morika a respectful nod.  "I am Doral," he says with another grin.  "Doral Sloans of Vathirond."  A lie here and there never hurt anyone much.

After he listens to Elinvath he asks, "What are the crews orders?  Are they to merely transport us or are they to listen to our commands?  Will they stay in port for us to use their ship as a base?  Will they provide free rations on the voyage and in port?  Do we have a point of contact in the port?  What other resources will you provide us?  What is our reward for this task?  Does Kolberkon have anything we can use against him for blackmail?  I take it you would prefer that we didn't do anything too violent that might garner lasting enmity between you and this prince.  What kind of bargaining tools will we have at our disposal?"  After this tirade his business-like face falls back into a friendly smile.  "Just curious, of course."


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## Bront (Jul 6, 2006)

"You're going to let us use the ship right?  Because otherwise it will be a long swim.  I guess I could walk there, but I don't want all my scrolls to get wet."


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## MadMaxim (Jul 6, 2006)

_This Doral character certainly asks a whole lot of questions. One would take him for a Zil gnome if he wasn't so tall. What's he going to ask for next? What they're serving on board?_

Partash steps up next to the half-elf and introduces himself: "Good day, Mr. Sargessean. Parlinor Tashlov, champion of the Sovereign Host at your service. Though Mr. Sloans has asked many 'interesting' questions, I was wondering whether we're to negotiate on behalf of people who don't know we're working for them? And does Mr. Gaardasci know that we're coming to free him?"


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## Bobitron (Jul 6, 2006)

Glasia politely declines the offer for help, although her expression is grateful. "He acts up if another carries him," she says, shifting the weight to her other hand. "Once we're off the dock, I'll let him loose. I'm afraid the pidgeons and gulls will be too much of a temptation right now." She returns the smile, pulling back her hood to reveal a young face framed with silvery hair.

Sargessean certainly looked to be a worthwhile employer. His cloak alone was worth what a worker on his ship might earn in a month. His words are less comforting. _This sounds... illegal._ The wizard keeps her thoughts to herself as he describes the task. _The pirates raise the ire of the Prince. He captures the father, who this Sargessean has some sort of need for, and demands an amount in ransom that is too high for the sons to pay, either due to lack of funds or lack of desire. It has to pretty high or they wouldn't be willing to fund us._ The barrage of questions from the half-elf and the following queries by the others cause her eyes to open wide. _By the Flame. I would never think to ask that stuff._


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## stonegod (Jul 6, 2006)

The kobold clucks his tongue at the half-elf's barrage of their employer, and then keeps a steady eye on the traveling priest for and the construct for their questions. Raising its head from its walking stick, the kobold addresses the elderly gentleman.

"Any means necessary, you say? Then means other than negotiation are on the table, I will assume. Though, as you know, Master Sargessean, my skills are tailored for negotiation, I believe I will be able to work with these others in case more direct approaches are needed."

The kobold stretches it neck to the side; a loud pop can be heard. "I assume you have sort of dossier on the Gaardasci princes, probable contacts in Port Verge, and other information we will need? As Master Sloans so quickly indicated, we will need some basic information in order to adequately resolve this... complication."


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## Bront (Jul 6, 2006)

Carver withdraws a little bit.  He notices Doral's insight, and thinks that perhaps the half-elf may have some insight.  He will have to ask later.

Instead, while listening to the conversation, he moves closer to the covered cage, to attempt to see what is inside.  Once he finaly closes with the cage, he looks at it carefully, with an obvious desire to look under it, though he holds his hands back.


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## Bobitron (Jul 6, 2006)

Glasia smiles at the curious warforged, reaching down and allowing him a peek. Inside is a hawk with feathers the color of fluffy summer clouds.


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## James Heard (Jul 6, 2006)

The older human waited patiently for the rest of the party to voice their concerns and questions and nodded slowly as each was answered. Ever practical, he only had three questions, which he demonstrated by means of upraised fingers.

"One, how much are we getting paid. Now _and _later. I don't get on strange men's boats for free."

"Two, just so we know, how many people are we going to have to murder for this? There are seven of us, but you'll be waiting a long time for your returns if you expect us to kill every kinsmen of every seadog in Port Verge."

"Three, and this isn't a question but just a statement of fact, I need something to drink, and soon, else I'm just going to wander back down to the tavern."

"And three, this is the question, alive is a relative term. Does he have to be alive the whole time, or can we pickle the corpse or save the head and talk to his spirit later? Because prisoners are an awful lot of bother, and dead men rarely are in my experience." At the last he gave a horrifying wheezing chuckle that got out of control, ended only with the archer bent over and wiping tears from his eyes.

"But oh, how much trouble they are when they decide to be!" he finished with malefic glee.


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## stonegod (Jul 6, 2006)

James Heard said:
			
		

> "And three, this is the question, alive is a relative term. Does he have to be alive the whole time, or can we pickle the corpse or save the head and talk to his spirit later? Because prisoners are an awful lot of bother, and dead men rarely are in my experience." At the last he gave a horrifying wheezing chuckle that got out of control, ended only with the archer bent over and wiping tears from his eyes.



As the human tried to catch his breath, the kobold rubbed its chin, perhaps intrigued by the new option. Once the man had finished, it added, "Yes, that is a possibility, thought necromantic communication is not without its faults. And there is of course the question of potential destabilization of the Principalities, which could make travel more difficult. My impression is that our employer wants Gaardasci alive, however." It turns back to the eldery man. "You, do you not?"


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## Ringmereth (Jul 6, 2006)

As questions besige Elinvath from all fronts, he stands patiently until the group stops for his response. "I would really be glad to discuss the matter all day, but the less time I'm seen with you today, the fewer difficult questions you may have to answer tomorrow. In short, I expect you to take the Lyrandar galleon to Port Verge. In here," he continues, pointing to the sack at his feet, "I have packed your tickets and provisions for the trip, which I have not chartered exclusively for this excursion--the ship is Prince Kolberkon's, you see, and he wishes to impress some visiting merchant or or House representative with it."

"When you reach Port Verge, you should ascertain the whereabouts and condition of the Baron--who, in all likelyhood, does not expect to recieve aid from me--and free him with words or by force. I have little experience with Port Verge, but I would point you to Mr. Banderelli, who should be a capable guide to the town. Whatever method you choose, it should be carried out in the role of mercenaries in Gaardasci's sons' employ. I intend to remain in the Principalities no longer than I must, but I don't believe running afoul of pirates would expedite our undertaking."

"For those who are curious about my rate of pay, I have included an initial payment of 50 coins of platinum for each of you. I will triple that upon the return of Baron Gaardasci, _alive if at all possible_," he adds, his warm voice going cold for a moment, "and reimburse your expenses on top of that. If you'd prefer another form of compensation for this venture, I will give your request full consideration at that time."

"Now, our time today really must come to a close. I have great confidence in each of you, and wish you good luck, calm seas, and a swift return." With a smile and a bow, he walks off towards the town, leaving the group with a bulky sack and half-answered questions.


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## stonegod (Jul 6, 2006)

The kobold nods. If dissatisfied by the lack of answers, it does not show it. It places its head back on its crossed hands, waiting for someone else to pick up the bulky sack.


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## Bobitron (Jul 6, 2006)

Glasia is already counting the money in her head, her glance lingering on the bag. She shrinks back a step or two, standing on the outside of the group.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 6, 2006)

Morkia listens to the barrage of questions and bundle of muddled answers with faint amusement, then stalks over to the bag.  Picking it up, she begins to walk toward the ship, glancing over her shoulder at the others.  "Whoever wants their pay, get on board!" she calls.  Leaping onto the gangplank, she saunters to the top and waits for the others to board.  When the Karranthi passes by her, she sinks a sharp-nailed hand into his elbow and whispers into his ear.

Dragen: 



Spoiler



"You ever mention or attempt to use necromancy within my sight, _Karranthi_, and I will strangle you with your own intenstines then heave you overboard for the sharks."



Morika's voice raises a bit so the others can hear, and she flashes a sharp-toothed smile at the archer.  "Good looking bow you have there.  I never could use one of those, but that one looks worthy of a good archer.  You can tell the skill of a man through his care of his weapons.  What's your name?"  Oddly, Morika seems to be sincere... about both of her comments.


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## James Heard (Jul 6, 2006)

Dragen shrugs with a shallow smile at both comments, winks at the tiny shifter, and walks toward the ship.

"50 platinum coins is worth getting on a boat for, I suppose."


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## stonegod (Jul 6, 2006)

As the others begin to go up the gang-plank, the kobold notices the young girl keeping herself to the back, not going up immediately with the rest. It purposefuly makes its way over the the obviously young one, looks intently at her, and crooks a finger at her. Should she lean over, the kobold has a soft word in her ear.
[sblock=Whispered to Glasia]"Best be careful. All these strange others, how unusual they must seem. More violent, more aggressive than what you are used to, are they? Do not fret. They will not hurt you. I will make sure of it. Consider it... a favor."[/sblock]The kobold then straightens out, and begins to board the ship, not waiting for a reply.


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## Bront (Jul 6, 2006)

Carver smiles at Glasia and then smiles at the bird, waving at it, "That's an unsual color.  Did you make it?  I've heard of hair dye, but never of feather dye.  Though I suppose it's similar and would be easy to..."

He looks back up at Elinvath when he hears his name, his expression lightening a bit when he hears about his home town.  Once the man leaves, he does not hesitate to walk over and pick up the bag, examining it's contents, though it seems someone beats him to it.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 7, 2006)

As soon as the tickets are shown and access is allowed for, Doral follows Dragen on board.  As he counts his money he says, "I feel I must agree with you.  This gentleman of ours certainly knows how to speak our language."

As Doral gets on board the boat, he will look for the captain or first mate and make friendly conversation with him, attempting to ascertain the crews instructions from Elinvath.  He'll also mingle around with the crew, offering an occasional hand for simple tasks, but otherwise not getting in their way.  In this manner he'll try to pick up on any rumors of interest.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 7, 2006)

Partash walks on board as the last person. The chill obviously hasn't left his body or mind. _Sargessean left us with pretty much all the important questions unanswered. Either he really didn't have time to answer them or he's not telling us everything he knows. Either way, his gold is still good and I'll only find out what is going on by playing along.

I would very much prefer to bring the Baron back alive and in one piece, though some of my companions seem to care little for his condition. They could possibly turn the entire thing into one giant slaughter if left unchecked.

Everybody seem to be getting along fine, so I'll just keep a bit to myself until I figure out who I can truly trust, though my true heritage must remain a closely guarded secret. Sargessean isn't the only one who can run the secrecy game..._

Partash wraps his grey traveler's cloak tightly around his slight frame seeking whatever protection from the wind there is to be found in it. His magical heavy mace hangs from the belt around his waist and he starts wondering whether he'll have to ever raise it during this rescue mission.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 7, 2006)

Morkia will dole out the fifty platinum for those that ask, but if anyone forgets, she's not above "keeping it safe until later."  Money taken care of, in one way or another, the shifter puts the remaining platinum in her haversack, along with her shield.  Those that are watching will notice that there are no tell-tale bulges from her additions.  That done, she walks over to the slight Glasia.

"Who's that in the cage?" she asks, her stance one of challenge, though her face is actually more curious than hostile.


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## Bront (Jul 7, 2006)

"What else is in the bag?  He said our provisions, so there must be more than just coin in there." Carver says, after he catches up with Morkia.


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## Ringmereth (Jul 7, 2006)

For a few quiet moments, the group digests their employer's words, but with Morika taking the lead and toting Elinvath's bag, they advance on the ship's gangplank. The two soldiers guarding the ramp look nervously at each other as the seven approach. The half-orc on the left, a heavily scarred sentry with a brutish look and a scimitar, sets his big foot firmly in the middle of the plank, barring their way. "What's th' name y'here under, miss?" he asks the wild woman stalking towards him. 

"We're just waitin' on the Kundarak company, as I remember, Rognal," the other guard says skeptically. 

"I dun' reckon' we had 'nother six," Rognal mutters slowly. "Uh. Or's it seven?" He turns and speaks up at the party: "The 'forged, izhe passe'ger or cargo?"


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 7, 2006)

Morika stares at the man for a moment, her gaze flashing dangerously. "Morika, that's what I'm here under," she says sullenly, and fishes in the bag for the promised tickets to hand over to the guard.


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## stonegod (Jul 7, 2006)

The kobold makes its way besides the irritable shifter, and addresses the guards. "Our way has been prepared. The shifter has our tickets, and will kindly give them over. Now." The kobold stares intently at Morika.


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## Ringmereth (Jul 7, 2006)

> "In here," he continues, pointing to the sack at his feet, "I have packed your tickets and provisions for the trip, which I have not chartered exclusively for this excursion--the ship is Prince Kolberkon's, you see, and he wishes to impress some visiting merchant or or House representative with it."




If you'd like to edit your post in light of the fact, go ahead.


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## Bront (Jul 7, 2006)

"How long will the journy be?"  Carver asks.

[sblock=OOC]Ringmereth, If I can, Carver has something he wanted to craft, and if he's earned enough XP to (54) or can at least take that as a debt against his future earnings, he'd like to try to craft it on the trip if he has the time.  Just a Handy Haversack, nothing big.[/sblock]


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## James Heard (Jul 7, 2006)

"I'm not going anywhere near that floating deathtrap until I'm paid," the archer said cooly.


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## stonegod (Jul 7, 2006)

The kobold continues to look at the shifter. "I am sure we will be remunerated once the matter with the boarding is concluced."


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## James Heard (Jul 7, 2006)

The grim faced mercenary winced.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."


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## Ringmereth (Jul 7, 2006)

"Well, I d'know who's paying you, but I damn well won't let you on board 'til we see proof you paid us," Rognal's counterpart, a shorter guard with a red and green tattoo on his skull, interjects in a low voice. "Show us th' tickets, shifter, and then ya get on." Rognal nods, resolutely blocking the gangplank.


[sblock=Carver]I'll make note of it when you earn XP, which you haven't yet. If you'd like to craft something during the trip, you will have time. However, I'm not a fan of item creation feats being a mystical process which somehow transforms gold coins directly into powerful items--you'll need to aquire crafting supplies before you make an item. If you want to work out a way to make something over the course of the trip, let's continue this in the OOC thread.[/sblock]


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 7, 2006)

Morika finally locates the tickets in the bag, after shooting an acidic glare at the kobold.  She hands them over, then looks at the Karranthi over her shoulder.  "You want your pay?  I said come and get it, it's right here," she snaps, waiting none-too-patiently for the others to come forward and claim their platinum.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 7, 2006)

Partash steps up next to the shifter and holds out his hand to receive the platinum pieces. "There's no need to be unfriendly, Miss Morika. We're all in this together, remember?" He says softly.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 7, 2006)

Doral receives his platinum from Morika.  "Looks like it's all here.  Thank you.  I do like working with honest people.  Makes a voyage so much easier."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 7, 2006)

James Heard said:
			
		

> The grim faced mercenary winced.
> 
> "I've got a bad feeling about this."




Doral slaps Dragen on the back reassuringly, "Come now.  You're surrounded by strangers who will be responsible for your safety and about to embark on a voyage on a ship with a crew that seems not to like us much, for an employer that most likely wants us to do something illegal, and with a plan that has already changed before we even got started.  What's not to like?" Doral throws him a wink.


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## stonegod (Jul 7, 2006)

Once the matter of the tickets seems to be resolved, the kobold reaches its hand out, expectingly, to the shifter. "My payment," it says simply. Once the bag is in hand, it says, "If there are further instructions in the bag, you will let us know." With that, it waits for the guards to finish processing their tickets before boarding.


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## Bobitron (Jul 7, 2006)

Glasia is somewhat overwhelmed by all the banter, cranky remarks, and overt challenges. She smiles nervously when Morika asks her about the contents of the cage, asking her to wait until they are boarded. After joining the line to get her platinum, she thanks the shifter and sets down the cage near the deck's edge, opening the silk to reveal her companion to the sky. It makes a curious clacking noise as it inspects the gathered people, then bolts off into the sky in a flash of white feathers as Glasia opens the door, gracefully circling overhead.

"That is Cloudchaser," she says. "Have you known a wizards before, Morika? With a familiar? He and I share a mystical connection. Part of my own strength is imbued inside him, and part of his is inside me." She smiles. "I love him. He has been my closest companion for years." Her eyes turn to the sky where the hawk glides in lazy rings. "Right now he's just happy to be uncaged!"

Once the berthing has been assigned and the conversation settles, she asks a crew member how long the journey will take.


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## James Heard (Jul 7, 2006)

After the matter of pay is settled, the archer wanders off toward the bow of the ship. Dragen ignores all other prompts for banter.

"At least we know something already about which of us can be trusted." he mutters under his breath, with a sidelong glance over his shoulder at the belligerent, thieving shifter and shakes his head.

"Bad, bad feeling about this..."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 7, 2006)

MadMaxim said:
			
		

> Partash steps up next to the shifter and holds out his hand to receive the platinum pieces. "There's no need to be unfriendly, Miss Morika. We're all in this together, remember?" He says softly.



  Morika looks at the scholarly fellow, her face a study in astonishment.  "I'm not being unfriendly.  I'll tell you when I am.  Right now I'm just being me," she says with a raised eyebrow.  



			
				Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> Doral receives his platinum from Morika.  "Looks like it's all here.  Thank you.  I do like working with honest people.  Makes a voyage so much easier."



  Doral will find all fifty platinum pieces there, as Morika counts them out carefully and in plain view.  "I won't cheat you, that I can promise you," she says simply, a little taken aback that he would thank her even after her usual greetings.



			
				stonegod said:
			
		

> Once the matter of the tickets seems to be resolved, the kobold reaches its hand out, expectingly, to the shifter. "My payment," it says simply. Once the bag is in hand, it says, "If there are further instructions in the bag, you will let us know." With that, it waits for the guards to finish processing their tickets before boarding.



  Morika is actually amused by the kobold.  For one so small, he showed neither fear nor challenge toward her.  At his request, she counts out his pay with exaggerated care.  At his parting remark, she gives an elaborate and overdone bow.  "Certainly, oh master of the world," she says sarcastically.



			
				Bobitron said:
			
		

> Glasia is somewhat overwhelmed by all the banter, cranky remarks, and overt challenges. She smiles nervously when Morika asks her about the contents of the cage, asking her to wait until they are boarded. After joining the line to get her platinum, she thanks the shifter and sets down the cage near the deck's edge, opening the silk to reveal her companion to the sky. It makes a curious clacking noise as it inspects the gathered people, then bolts off into the sky in a flash of white feathers as Glasia opens the door, gracefully circling overhead.
> 
> "That is Cloudchaser," she says. "Have you known a wizards before, Morika? With a familiar? He and I share a mystical connection. Part of my own strength is imbued inside him, and part of his is inside me." She smiles. "I love him. He has been my closest companion for years." Her eyes turn to the sky where the hawk glides in lazy rings. "Right now he's just happy to be uncaged!"



 "Met a wizard or two in the war, usually on the opposite side of the battlefield, but a few since then.  Aye, I know familiars, a bit like animal companions of my druid sisters and brothers.  Think he'd care to meet me?" she asks with a heretofore unseen kindness in her voice.  She raises her voice to a passable scream of a hawk, a greeting cry, and flings up an arm for Cloudchaser to land, should he care to.


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## Bobitron (Jul 8, 2006)

Glasia's smile lights up as she nods happily, sending out her feelings of goodwill towards the shifter for Cloudchaser to feel. The small hawk lands softly on Morika's arm, preening its feathers.


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## Bront (Jul 8, 2006)

Carver nods as he recieves the platinum, and puts it away quickly.  He turns around to rumage through his backpack, before shrugging and nodding.  "I haven't been on a ship in such a long time.  I think it was over a month ago.  The gentile rocking made for some fun while carving as well.  I wonder if there will be room for me to work on the ship?"


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## MadMaxim (Jul 8, 2006)

Partash suddenly takes interest in the warforged's story as he puts the platinum pieces into his belt pouch. "What is it you carve, Carver, and was that how you came to be known by that name?" He seems genuinely interested in the warforged's origins.


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## Bront (Jul 8, 2006)

"Bim called me that after a while.  He said he would find me a better name, but he never did.  I enjoy carving.  I find it relaxing."  Carver reaches into his pack and pulls out a small carving, a rabbit, about the size of his hand, which seems to have great detail, though it is unpainted.  "I carved this a few days ago.  I haven't found anyone to give it to yet."


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## stonegod (Jul 8, 2006)

Once given its bag, the kobold takes its time to verify the amount. Once satisfied, it places it in a pouch, giving no visible response to the shifter's sardonic bow. It then contents itself to observe the others closely while awaiting departure.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jul 8, 2006)

Once everyone had collected their advance pay and boarded the ship, the oddly assorted group broke off in smaller mingling conversations.  They all, however, remained close to the shifter and the dark purple bag Elinvath had given them.  Above them, the pale northern sun was approaching the midday mark, its beams tumbling through the rigging of the three back-up masts and spraying a web of shadows on the deck.

An observant eye would have noticed that the deck, banisters, and in fact everything else was freshly scrubbed down, and the blue and silver detailing made to shine.  No stray equipment or freight littered the decks, and on either side was what looked suspiciously like a compact ballista draped in blue cloth.  The ship herself was a sleek, light vessel, with a long and narrow body.  Nonetheless, it was a sturdily built craft, capable of both enduring rough seas and carrying heavy cargo.  It was obviously not normally assigned to ferry-work.



Those standing near the purple bag almost immediately noticed a sweet odor coming from its depths, and were immediately reminded of their hunger.  Inside the bag, Elinvath had thoughtfully packed his new employees two baskets filled with breads, cheeses, and fresh fruit, and a third basket contained simple plates and goblets.  Upon further inspection, three bottles of varying wine were also pulled from the bag, as well as an assortment of smaller bottles containing potion and one of oil.

The bottles were barely out of the bag, and the baskets still unopened, when the first crewman they’d seen sprinted past, knocking the slight young wizard aside.  He climbed the companionway two steps at a time, and disappeared behind the tower that housed the vapor.

“Capt’n, the _dwarves_ are ‘ere, _and_ them new passeng’rs are out a-laying all-o’er the deck!”

There was a muffled sound of startled dismay and more people being bodily pushed aside, and then the captain and his elaborately long black coat whipped around the corner and paused at the top of the short stairway to the lower deck.  The large, awkwardly-shaven man stared down at mismatched group and their luncheon baskets.

“What in the name of shark-slaughter are you doin’ picnic’n on _mah_ deck, when I’ve got some _very_ import’n guests waitin’ out on the pier this mommen’! Yah look more like a load of street-wretches ‘n payin’ customers!  Geh below righ’ now or ye _swimmin’ _ to Port Verge!”  His voice was forceful, though not too loud, and did not falter as flustered as he was.  His dull brown eyes, well-matched with his dull brown hair, scanned over the group before nervously flitting back to the starboard rail.


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## stonegod (Jul 8, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> “What in the name of shark-slaughter are you doin’ picnic’n on _mah_ deck, when I’ve got some _very_ import’n guests waitin’ out on the pier this mommen’! Yah look more like a load of street-wretches ‘n payin’ customers!  Geh below righ’ now or ye _swimmin’ _ to Port Verge!”  His voice was forceful, though not too loud, and did not falter as flustered as he was.  His dull brown eyes, well-matched with his dull brown hair, scanned over the group before nervously flitting back to the starboard rail.



The kobold, who sat patiently, reading a recent copy of the _Inquisitive_ while waiting for the others to tend to the food, calmly folded its folio and approached the captain. It taps its staff once to get the captain's attention. As its speaks, the strange cadence to its voice catches the attention.

"While your other guests are surely important, as members of House Kundarak are to be, we ourselves are paying customers and have payed for the privilege of utilizing this vessel except in the capacity it should interfere with its normal operation. As I am sure your probable business partners are interested in knowing not only the physical capabilities of this vessel but in knowing the character of its crew. As the prime rule of House Kundarak is that of quality service, to demonstrate a lack of the same would not do well in their eyes and potentially reflect poorly on you. You would not want that, would you Captain? Would _your_ employer want Kundarak to be less than impressed with your passenger relations?"

The kobold looks calmly at the captain afterwards.

[OOC: And yes, that was a Diplomacy check.]


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 8, 2006)

"My colleague is correct.  We are not vagabonds, sir.  Look, I'll gather up the uneaten portions of our 'picnic' and return it to the bag.  Who is coming on board, captain, and what are the proper customs and courtesies when greeting them?"  Doran moves to clean up as he speaks.


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## Bront (Jul 8, 2006)

"Realy? Do often transport loads of street wretches?  That seems like an odd cargo.  Does it pay well?" Carver asks inquisitively, looking up from the potions he has been examining.

OOC: I never did get an answer on aquiring materials for crafting.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 8, 2006)

"Carver, I don't think he meant that they usually transport street wretches on this ship. He meant that we should behave like we're paying customers and not eat on the deck but eat below deck. It's seemingly inappropriate to eat on the deck when important customers are about to get onboard." Then he comes to think of the little rabbit figure that the warforged showed him.

"By the way, Carver. I'd gladly receive the little figure you made. It would bring back fond memories of us working together. I'll even pay you for it, if you need gold for more materials."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 8, 2006)

Morika looks at the captain with a stern and unblinking gaze.  She seriously considers his counteroffer for a moment, then looks over at the wide expanse of water.  _Naw, swimming would take too long,_ she thinks finally.  "Fine then.  We'll eat later.  But I'm not going below deck," she says firmly.  Closed spaces gave her the willies, she preferred to be able to see the sky.  Not that she wouldn't enter them if she absolutely had to, but no pompous man would dictate to her where she would go.


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## James Heard (Jul 8, 2006)

Dragen merely looked over his shoulder coolly at the man's bluster, and continued to polish his bow from his place apart from the rest of the party at the front of the ship.

"I'd hate for it to come to that. I don't swim, and it probably wouldn't be a good idea with all those corpses of sailors in the water either," he said without inflection, merely assessing the situation, the swift motions of the rag never faltering.

"But..." he paused, "I understand your assessment of my appearance."

Sliding off the tattered cottons of his outer garments, he kicked them overboard and left himself in the brightly-oiled goblin-made armor. He straightened, still polishing the bow.

"Normally I don't like to let it be exposed to too much sunlight, much less salt air, but at least _dwarves_ might have some appreciation of just how hard it was to get the bloodstains out of it in the first place."


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## Bront (Jul 9, 2006)

"Oh, that makes sense I guess," Carver says, not sounding too convinced.

He pulls out the Rabbit carving again and offers it to Parlinor.  "I'm just glad to share.  The materials cost but a few silvers, and it occupies my time."


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## MadMaxim (Jul 9, 2006)

Partash picks up the rabbit figurine and studies it carefully from different angles. "That's a nice piece of craftsmanship, Carver. You certainly have talent in that regard. You could open a small business selling these or perhaps carve on demand, so to speak."

He wraps it in a piece of cloth and puts it in his backpack. "Thank you. I'll take good care of it."


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## Bront (Jul 9, 2006)

"I'm glad you like it.  Business never when well after Bim died though.  I'm not sure why though, because i tried, and learned much of what I know of crafting from him."  Carver says.  "Besides, other than for getting materials to make things, I'm not sure what I would use money for anyway.  People get upset when I melt it for raw materials."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jul 9, 2006)

The captain blinked and snapped his attention to the kobold, obviously surprised to find him speaking for the group.  He quickly assessed the others’ responses, watching the half-elf begin to gather the baskets before turning back to the confident and calm-sounding kobold.

“Mmph.  I don’ mean to be ‘less than impressive’, but these dwarves ah’ very importin’ _guests_ of th’ Prince himself.  And firs’ impressions are very importin’ too, so if you don’ mind, I’d like to have a tidy and proper lookin’ ship when they come aboard.  Which looks like it’s gonna be _real_ soon.”

He craned his neck to peer over onto the dock, where a group of eight dwarves in fine yet still quite practical clothes were milling in a tightly packed group.  The best dressed, and clear leader, was standing aloof and discussing something with his two associates.  The others, dressed somewhat less lavish traveler’s clothes, were helping unload a series of trunks and other luggage from their hired wagon, while one inquired of the boarding-guards as to where onboard the luggage should be taken.

The captain then stepped, or rather swirled, down the companionway and strode over to the kobold and the half-elf who was somehow packing three rather large baskets into a considerably smaller purple bag.  He spoke to the kobold, because he preferred to deal through authority, even though he was answering the half-elf’s questions.

“But forgive me my harried temp’r.  I’m Captin’ Gorbrekken, and tha’ man who just spoke to me was me first mate, Wilsbree.  And yeh, these dwarves are indeed from th’ House Kundarak.  Our Prince Kolberkon invit’d ‘em to come to Port Verge as his most ‘onorable guests, to see if they’d like tah open a branch o’ the Kundarak bank in our growin’ city.  Y’see, th’ Prince is very keen on growin’ Port Verge’s import’nce to match that of Regalport,” –he jerked his head eastward– “an’ maybe even someday passing it.  So, yeh can see why I’m so worried at th’ momen’ about getting’ this right.  An' if you want the be ‘elpful, either take yer luncheon below, or stay up on deck if ye must, but remember yah c’rtesy an’ good manners.  These ah members _o’ the House itself_ right ‘ere.”

At this point, a few more crew members had already emerged from below deck and gone to help the laymen dwarves to carry the trunks.  Gorbrekken caught one of them, speaking in a quick and commanding tone:

“You there.  You, show any ah these ‘uns who are goin’ below where their quart’rs are.”  He then immediately turned on the heels of his freshly-polished but hopelessly worn and aged boots, and rustled down the gangplank to greet his most distinguished passengers.



[sblock="OOC: Crafting Rules"]After conferring with Ringmereth, we have decided to establish some slightly off-book house rules on crafting:


You must have both the necessary tools and working space in which to craft.  The ship is fine, but you can't just work anywhere.
You may split the crafting-time for an item into day increments, but you still need to be able to put in an entire eight hours work for each day. (For example, an item which would normally take two days to be crafted can be worked on for eight hours one day, then carried around in a half-finished and completely functionless form and finished on any later day.)
However, you must have _all_ the necessary XP and materials for the project at the beginning, not just enough to do one day's worth.  All the required XP and materials are then removed from your pool and inventory, and you would then possess a "Third-Finished ____" (or like such) of equal weight which you must carry around.
Finally, as above, you must actually possess the required materials, not just their gold equivalent.

By my calculations... it doesn't look like you can make a HHH this trip.  Sorry about that.[/sblock]


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## Bront (Jul 9, 2006)

"Good day Captain, I'm Carver Banderelli," Carver says, quite happy the captain is being nice now.  "Is there some way I could get a tour of the ship?  I find this whole thing marvelous.  I was found on an oceanside, so I've always been facinated by ships and things that float on the water.  I think I'll carve a small boat next, maybe even a replica of this one.  But I think I'd like a tour first.  So may I?"
[sblock=OOC]As long as I get a chance to craft off and on between levels and such, otherwise the Artifacer is neutered somewhat.  XP is the big issue at the moment since we started at L4, and I'm only 54 short, but oh well.

On the other hand, if you don't mind, Carver is going to assume to be carrying around bits of wood to carve off and on, and occasionaly make something.  It's more an RP thing, as it wouldn't be worth much nor does he sell them.  Of course, that was part of the point of the HHH, so I didn't have to worry about carrying it all, but no big deal, he's already in heavy armor.

Also, I'll likely be carrying around some generic alchemy and scroll stuff so I can just rip those out easily, assuming you don't mind.  I guess I can pay in advance for that, probably once I arive in Port Verge.[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 9, 2006)

Doral smiles in amusement to himself over the captain's preference for Vhir, "It's so nice to have some influence and yet remain unnoticed."  He looks for a place out of the way to sit down that is hidden in the shadows, and also stares at the door downstairs as he considers using it.

DM
[sblock]
Doral will look for a place that is hidden from the eyes of the others, trying to ignore anyone who tries to strike up a conversation.  If he has to, he'll open the door to the downstairs as if he is going to descend, but not close the door.  As soon as he is confident no one can see him, he'll cast _comprehend languages_ and then _invisibility_ on himself, then move silently so that he can get closer to the group of dwarves.  He'll listen in to the conversation between the captain and the group and between the group members when they speak in dwarven.  If they switch to a language other than common or dwarven, Doral will touch the speaker gently on the elbow or anywhere else that might be noticed so that he may understand the tongue.
[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Jul 9, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> “an’ maybe even someday passing it.  So, yeh can see why I’m so worried at th’ momen’ about getting’ this right.  An' if you want the be ‘elpful, either take yer luncheon below, or stay up on deck if ye must, but remember yah c’rtesy an’ good manners.  These ah members _o’ the House itself_ right ‘ere.”



The kobold nods to the captain, its expression unreadable. "By all means. We would not want to interrupt." Turning to those packing, it examines their work for a moment, then turns away. Making for a place to sit on the deck, it states, "I will dine later. Continue as your were."

The kobold then sits down, places its fine cane against its leg, and continues to read its copy of the _Inquisitor_.

[OOC: The kobold has very pointedly not stated its name yet, FYI. It will stay on deck a bit to observe nonchalantly. This observation will include both the crews, dwarves, and parties actions, of course.]


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## Bobitron (Jul 9, 2006)

Glasia lets out a sigh of relief after the captain leaves, intimidated by his blustery manner. "Maybe we should find our quarters? I would like to set down my gear. Be back in a few minutes, Morika." She smiles at a passing sailor.

"Excuse me! Can you show us our quarters? It would be most appreciated."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 9, 2006)

Morika simply stands at the deck rail, stroking Cloudchaser for a bit, then freeing him go back to flying.  She ignores the captain and the dwarves on deck, simply staring at the wharf and the people on it, occasionally looking back over her shoulder at her erstwhile comrades.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 9, 2006)

"May il-Yannah guide our efforts..." Partash mutters in Quor under his breath as he makes his way below deck to his quarters. He seemingly has no interest in the House Kundarak representatives unlike some of his other companions.

[OOC: Partash finds his room, sits down and meditates until dinner is served.]


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## James Heard (Jul 10, 2006)

Dragen enjoys the fresh air, and tries to be somewhere close to a railing for when the ship starts moving and the inevitable happens.

"Boats... Bah!" he mutters under his breath, and tries not to think about how much he drank last night.


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## Ringmereth (Jul 10, 2006)

[sblock=Jackalope Only]I have MSN Messenger running on my dad's PC. Sign on so we can discuss updates. Assuming you get on at all tonight. Should talked it over earlier, but that's life. 

I wonder if there's any way to see who opens an sblock. See if any of the players aren't trustworthy...

At any rate, if I don't see you in a half hour or so, I'll just write up a post myself.[/sblock]


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jul 10, 2006)

On his way to greet the dwarves, the last of which whom had just stepped heavily onto the deck, Captain Gorbrekken stopped as he passed the inquisitive warforged.  He gave him a quick looking over, and apparently deciding he was alright, replied,

“I’d be quite glad tah give ye one, uhh… sir.  I’ll find yeh later, then,”  he answered quickly, but not impolitely, before hurrying off to the dwarves.
_____________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, the crewmember Gorbrekken had called aside motioned to those who had chosen to go below to follow him.  They went through a pair of ornately painted doors and down the wide and well-lit steps to the level immediately below deck.  The three cabins Elinvath’s gold had secured them were grouped together at the end of the passageway closest to the steps to the deck.  Further down the hallway, towards the bow, were the cabins in which the three dwarves entourage would sleep.

The cabins themselves were simple, with walls and floors of bare planking, and tiny glass windows up near the ceiling.  Each held one bunk bed fitted with clean pale-colored bedclothes, two lockable chests, and a small table.  From the ceiling gently swung an oil lamp, unlit in the noontime sun filtering through the thick glass windowpane.

“Yous-all can split up the rooms how ye likes,”  said the shy and nondescript crewmember.  “I knew yeh’ve got seven, but the ‘forged can just take that trunk at the end o’ the hall an’ put it ‘n one o’ the rooms, since he don’t need a bed.”
_____________________________________________________________

Those still on deck can only hear small snips of the Gorbrekken and the dwarves’ conversation, which was being held barely within earshot of the would-be picnickers.  The captain, who spoke with near-fawning gusto, was the only one clearly audible over the perpetual sound of the waves against the ships hull and the creaking of wood.

“Welcome aboard, me good sirs.  It is both meh honor and pride to have yeh sailin’ to Port Verge on mah fine ship.  I’d be Captain Gorbrekken, under service of his lord and mastership Prince Kolberkon, and under yer service as his esteem’d guests.  If thar’s anythin’…”

[sblock="Doral"]As the captain made his introductory speech, Doral managed easily to slip aside, and then ready himself to better listen in on the dwarves’ conversation.  He walked back quietly towards the three dwarven officials and the captain, this time invisible and taking extra precaution not to be heard.  To his good fortune, none seemed to notice his arrival, and he hovered cautiously a few feet away from the small group.

Just as Doral arrived, the highest-ranking dwarf stepped forward and shook Gorbrekken’s hand briskly, introducing himself as “Kinndareck, of the Department of Expansion.”   The other two dwarves then also shook the captain’s hand, introducing themselves as Iytin and Bourstrart, also of the Department of Expansion.

Speaking in dwarven, Kinndareck bluntly stated, “I’ll tell you now, I don’t like the sea, and should like to be shown to my quarters immediately.”  He was obviously speaking simply and clearly so the captain could understand, but Gorbrekken still looked slightly confused and alarmed, but managed to say haltingly and in a poor accent,

“Of course.  I show you there I-self.”  He turned towards the double doors at the stern of the deck, and the dwarves moved to follow, Iytin and Bourstrart obviously amused by the captain’s attempt at dwarven, but Kinndareck showing no opinion.   “You things will be already arrived, of course.  Would you like to eat dinner in you rooms also?”[/sblock]

Though their voices became too soft to distinguish, the conversation between the captain and his dwarven guests was very short.  After introductions and formal handshaking, Gorbrekken began to lead them towards the even-more ornate doors at the stern end of the deck.  Awkwardly attempting to speak in dwarven to the highest-ranking dwarf, the other two followed a step behind and snickered amusedly.  Gorbrekken signaled towards the vapor-tower, then the group disappeared below deck, as the captain showed them to their rooms.

A sudden harsh clanging of an iron bell rang from the toward at the stern of the ship, and the first mate hollered, “All free hands on the deck!  Prepare to sail!  Raise anchor!  Haul in the gangplank!…”  Almost magically, there was an explosion of activity on the ship, as a dozen or so crewmembers darted about following Wilsbree’s orders, though none bothered to unfurl the sails.  In a handful of minutes, the ship was completely detached from the pier, and the first mate stopped shouting commands as he focused on carefully manipulating the mysterious column of vapor.  The ship began to glide smoothly towards the bay and eventually the open sea, its pace increasing to an enchanted clip beyond what any normal ship could reach.



[sblock="OOC: Carver"]Don't worry, we'll allow you what crafting time you need. (Within reason and realism.)  And as for the little wooden carvings he does, thats no problem either, he can go ahead whittle all he likes. (And hopefully you'll have a HHH for all that soon.)[/sblock]


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## Bront (Jul 10, 2006)

Once the Captain says he'll get the tour, Carver follows his new companions down to the quarters.  "Parlinor, might I stow my chest in your room?  I think that's the right term for a ship?  Or is it port?  Anyway, I don't think I'll be needing it much.  Nothing wrong with carrying my stuff around anyway.  Besides, I wouldn't want to wake you up at night, I know Bim didn't like that.  In fact, no one I've met realy liked that.  How odd.  Is there a place I can do a little work around here without disturbing the others at night?"

By the time he's finished, he's facing the crewman.


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## Ringmereth (Jul 10, 2006)

"D'pends. What kinda work d' you be doing?" the seaman asks with a worried look, rubbing his hands together. "We 'ave room on deck if y'like. No one's a-sleepin' there, an' th' lookout ain't gonna b'grudge 'nother body 'round on 'is watch."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 10, 2006)

Doral quietly slips back into some concealment and reappears.  He rejoins the party downstairs, and quietly tries to memorize what he has learned.  Doral enters each of the various rooms and chooses the one with the loudest floor boards, although he neglects to tell anyone why.  After everyone is settled he finds Morika and says, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to get my portion of the meal back before I turned in."


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## MadMaxim (Jul 11, 2006)

Bront said:
			
		

> Once the Captain says he'll get the tour, Carver follows his new companions down to the quarters.  "Partash, might I stow my chest in your room?  I think that's the right term for a ship?  Or is it port?  Anyway, I don't think I'll be needing it much.  Nothing wrong with carrying my stuff around anyway.  Besides, I wouldn't want to wake you up at night, I know Bim didn't like that.  In fact, no one I've met realy liked that.  How odd.  Is there a place I can do a little work around here without disturbing the others at night?"



"That's alright, Carver. I can keep an eye on your equipment. But if you'll excuse me I'll be praying for some favorable winds on our journey." Partash picks up Carver's chest and puts in his room. He walks in and shuts the door behind him. He takes off his cloak and sits down on the bed and starts meditating. He speaks in Quor: "May il-Yannah grant me the strength to overcome whatever hardships are in store for me. May il-Yannah help guide me and my companions' efforts in finding and rescuing the Baron. May il-Yannah give me the wisdom to see through whatever lies and betrayal I may encounter."

[OOC: Partash still hasn't revealed his true identity, so Carver still only knows him as Parlinor Tashlov]


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## stonegod (Jul 11, 2006)

Once the vessel is on its way, the kobold makes its way from its reading perch downbellow. It checks each room, nodding but saying nothing if the occupants say anything, in the meantime noting where everyone has chosen to stay. After a moment, when it finds the room the plain-looking half-elf is going to bunk in, it places its a small bundle on the other bunk. It then moves purposefully to the half-elf, addressing it alone for the moment.
[sblock=Doral]The kobold addresses the half-elf directly. "I see you had  begun to ask the crew regarding our destination before we docked. Good. You have the knack for the right questions. Please endeavor to learn anything you can regarding our employer's quarry, his son's, and his captors. Anything you learn will assist us in our mission, in addition to the other information I am sure you are gathering. Do let the rest of us know."[/sblock]


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 11, 2006)

Doral can find Morika still on the deck, now sitting on her folded sleeping roll, gazing into the swiftly-moving sky and enjoying the night air.  When he asks for his food, she gets it out absently, still absorbed in the scenery.  Assuming the captain doesn't run her off the deck, she intends to sleep under the stars.


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## James Heard (Jul 11, 2006)

After a while of rather undignified wallowing over the railing of the ship after it set way, Dragen finally crawled up off his knees and wiped the foulness from his mouth with one of his spare cleaning rags. Casting a scowl at any who dared look at him, he stomped off across the ship looking for a drink.

_Sweet merciful death but there isn't anywhere I'd rather be than at sea..._ he thought darkly. _Maybe the dwarves' armsmen have something special. Always trust a dwarf to know his cups proper-like._. With a newly found spring in his step, the archer added a whistle to his stomping.


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## Bront (Jul 11, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> "D'pends. What kinda work d' you be doing?" the seaman asks with a worried look, rubbing his hands together. "We 'ave room on deck if y'like. No one's a-sleepin' there, an' th' lookout ain't gonna b'grudge 'nother body 'round on 'is watch."



"All sorts of fun things.  The deck sounds promising if it's dry." Carver says.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 11, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> [sblock=Doral]The kobold addresses the half-elf directly. "I see you had  begun to ask the crew regarding our destination before we docked. Good. You have the knack for the right questions. Please endeavor to learn anything you can regarding our employer's quarry, his son's, and his captors. Anything you learn will assist us in our mission, in addition to the other information I am sure you are gathering. Do let the rest of us know."[/sblock]




The kobold
[sblock]
Doral had finished his meal and was polishing an apple on his shirt when the kobold walked in to talk with him.  He says, "Oh yes, the kobold.  I've never met one of your kind before," Doral lies.  "So, before I begin bothering the crew why don't you get comfortable and tell me about yourself?  Where are you from?  What takes you so far from kobold lands?"  He takes a bite from his apple and eagerly listens to his guest.
[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Jul 11, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> [sblock=The kobold]
> Doral had finished his meal and was polishing an apple on his shirt when the kobold walked in to talk with him.  He says, "Oh yes, the kobold.  I've never met one of your kind before," Doral lies.  "So, before I begin bothering the crew why don't you get comfortable and tell me about yourself?  Where are you from?  What takes you so far from kobold lands?"  He takes a bite from his apple and eagerly listens to his guest.
> [/sblock]



[sblock=Doral]The kobold does that odd eye arching again. "Have you not? Hmmm." It streches its neck for a moment, a few pops commencing. It then turns its slightly glowing red eyes on the half-elf. As it speaks, you could swear there was a slight whispering underneath its voice, a hint of something uncomfortable. "My kin prefer their barbarism; I do not. That is the simple truth. But they and I still share three traits: We are both touched by the Progentiors, we both are cunning and deceitful, and both dislike interference in our affairs." The kobold pauses a moment, examing Doral closely. "I am a negotiator. That is my business, and the One Below ensures I am compentent at it. That should suffice. As for you, what mercenary skills do you bring to this venture?"[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 11, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> [sblock=Doral]The kobold does that odd eye arching again. "Have you not? Hmmm." It streches its neck for a moment, a few pops commencing. It then turns its slightly glowing red eyes on the half-elf. As it speaks, you could swear there was a slight whispering underneath its voice, a hint of something uncomfortable. "My kin prefer their barbarism; I do not. That is the simple truth. But they and I still share three traits: We are both touched by the Progentiors, we both are cunning and deceitful, and both dislike interference in our affairs." The kobold pauses a moment, examing Doral closely. "I am a negotiator. That is my business, and the One Below ensures I am compentent at it. That should suffice. As for you, what mercenary skills do you bring to this venture?"[/sblock]




The kobold
[sblock]
Doral looks as if he was about to say something, then stops.  His smile disappears for a moment, and he struggles, as if talking about himself is uncomfortable and difficult.  Finally some internal battle is won and Doral says, "I am skilled at gaining entry in places you might consider inaccessible.  I also have a talent for discovering how people feel about a situation, such as their lot in life."  The smile reappears, "Other than that, I'm just your average mixed-blood trying to make a living.  So why did you sign up for this gambit?  Are you hoping to make some quick cash like myself?  And it's interesting that you say that you are deceitful.  Isn't that statement a logical conundrum in itself?"
[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Jul 11, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> The kobold
> [sblock]The smile reappears, "So why did you sign up for this gambit? Are you hoping to make some quick cash like myself? And it's interesting that you say that you are deceitful.  Isn't that statement a logical conundrum in itself?"[/sblock]



[sblock=Doral]"Only if I stated that all I said is a lie, which I did not. As for reasons for joining: As I stated, my skills are for hire. The price was reasonable for the services to be rendered." The kobold begins preparation for leaving. "Your skills will most likely prove useful, especially if we do not find a way to negotiate or bluff a release. 'Any means necissary,' recall."

With that, unless he is held, the kobold leaves.[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 11, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> [sblock=Doral]"Only if I stated that all I said is a lie, which I did not. As for reasons for joining: As I stated, my skills are for hire. The price was reasonable for the services to be rendered." The kobold begins preparation for leaving. "Your skills will most likely prove useful, especially if we do not find a way to negotiate or bluff a release. 'Any means necissary,' recall."
> 
> With that, unless he is held, the kobold leaves.[/sblock]




After his guest leaves, Doral gives a shrug to himself, and bites into his apple.  The kobold was right.  He had better things to do than lay about.

Doral will look for the captain or first mate and make friendly conversation with him, attempting to ascertain the crews instructions from Kolberkon and other current employers such as the dwarves, and how many times they've done work for each. He'll also mingle around with the crew, offering an occasional hand for simple tasks, but otherwise not getting in their way. If he has no way to help them, he'll tell a joke or two to loosen them up.  Every laborer he had met before enjoyed the one about Bonny Sally and the Bawdy Skirt.  In this manner he'll try to pick up on any rumors of interest.


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## stonegod (Jul 11, 2006)

The kobold leaves the room, glances around at anyone who is loitering about, and then sets off for the galley. He probably disconcerns one crewman asking for directions, but the kobold does not seem one to mind.

Finally reaching the galley, the kobold notices that the Dragen is their, trying to find something to drown himself in; something that isn't sea water. The *clack, clack* of the kobold's walking stick announces its pressence as it moves upon the soldier.
[sblock=Dragan]"Karrnathi. I would have words with you." The kobold makes its way to a stool. "You do not seem sanguine regarding the task ahead. While negotiations may suffice for the job at hand, I want to be assured that your obvious skills for the arts of war will be at our willing disposal."[/sblock]
OOC: This vessel is Prince Kolberkon, not Elinvath's. He just bought us ferry tickets.


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## James Heard (Jul 11, 2006)

The gray-bearded archer merely looks back amusedly by means of reply.

_Great. Now the Khyber-rodent _*kobolds*_ are giving me peptalks. I wonder if the warforged will put on a dress and dance with me before this journey is over? _*Blast it*_ but this wine is poor..._

Pointedly, the archer tips the cup past the horizontal closes his eyes and turns his back on the kobold.


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## stonegod (Jul 11, 2006)

James Heard said:
			
		

> Pointedly, the archer tips the cup past the horizontal closes his eyes and turns his back on the kobold.



The kobold makes a *cluck* noise in its throat, a sign of displeasure. But, apparently, the soldier's lack of an answer is sufficient for its purposes, however inscruitable they might be, and it makes its way out of the galley to the top deck again. There, it finds the shifter still on deck, gazing out over the waters. Again, the kobold approaches one of the companions alone.
[sblock=Morika]The kobold stops behind the shifter, crossing its hands over its walking stick again. "The seas fill the voids of the One Between, but the seas are not the usual place for your kin. What services do you bring to this venture, shifter? What capabilities to you bring for the varied tasks soon to face us?"[/sblock]


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 12, 2006)

*Morika, female shifter druid*



			
				stonegod said:
			
		

> [sblock=Morika]The kobold stops behind the shifter, crossing its hands over its walking stick again. "The seas fill the voids of the One Between, but the seas are not the usual place for your kin. What services do you bring to this venture, shifter? What capabilities to you bring for the varied tasks soon to face us?"[/sblock]



  The kobold: [sblock]The shifter woman had been sitting on her bedroll, her arms on the railing, her chin atop them, looking out the sea.  Morika turns her face to her reptillian companion and gazes at him for a moment.  He doesn't flinch, he hadn't at her threats or dangerous bearing or anything else she had done.  In a way, that was comforting.  "Maybe not a normal place for my family, but some of my kind swim these waters like fish.  You don't hear much about them, but they're there.  What brings me to their home... is..." here Morika pauses, and turns back to the sea.  "Necessity maybe, curiosity definitely.  Wanderlust... greed, bloodlust too I suppose.  I was a scout, a fighter in the Reaches.  My family, clan really, we protected the little hamlets down by the Byshek mountains.  We fought goblins, Brelish, Aundairian soldiers, anyone that thought they would just turn over their life's work without a fight.

"I learned the ways of the wood, so I could hide there, scout, and kill those that came for slaughter and other people's wars.  I'm a druid, not like some of the ones you've seen, I'm guessing.  I have no faithful animal companion, only the beast spirit within my breast.  It makes me stronger, tougher, it helps me when I shift.  I can heal, speak to animals, make myself or others more powerful...  things as varied as nature.  I can speak to the fey, I'm a good scout, I can find food in the wild.  And I fight.  I fight as tenaciously as the mountain goat, and I give no quarter.  That's what I bring to this group."  Morika's coarse voice is modulated in the dark sea air, and her expression is somewhat detached, as if she's speaking in a dream.

"How about you?  What's your name?  What do you do?  And why aren't you afraid of me?[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Jul 12, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> [sblock=The kobold]"How about you?  What's your name?  What do you do?  And why aren't you afraid of me?[/sblock]



[sblock=Morika]The kobold places its head on its crossed hands for a moment as if thinking. "Ah, so that is your place. I am seeing how this shall fit together now." Raising its head again, it looks directly at the shifter. "As for your questions, let my answer them indirectly. It relates to your ways."

"Consider the Progenitor Dragons. Everything that is came from those Three. Your druidic tradition is but the shadow cast by teachings given by a dragon, following the path of the One Between. In fact, all that walk this ship, save for two, was created from the One Between's bones after The One Below was bound. The two who were not? First, the construct, soulless metal given life. And second, the kobold. While the dragons of Argonessen may be the grandest thing created by the Progenitors, we were the first---created from the Progenitor's blood itself.

"I am Vhir. I have been touched by the power of Eberron and the madness of Khyber. Besides those, there is little that can cause me fear."

The kobold waves its hand dimissively. "But enough draconic philosophy. My task here is simple. I observe. I negotiate. And I make sure when things happen, they happen they way I wanted them to happen for the purpose I have been paid for. Noting more, nothing less."[/sblock]


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 12, 2006)

*Morika, female shifter druid*



			
				stonegod said:
			
		

> [sblock=Morika]The kobold places its head on its crossed hands for a moment as if thinking. "Ah, so that is your place. I am seeing how this shall fit together now." Raising its head again, it looks directly at the shifter. "As for your questions, let my answer them indirectly. It relates to your ways."
> 
> "Consider the Progenitor Dragons. Everything that is came from those Three. Your druidic tradition is but the shadow cast by teachings given by a dragon, following the path of the One Between. In fact, all that walk this ship, save for two, was created from the One Between's bones after The One Below was bound. The two who were not? First, the construct, soulless metal given life. And second, the kobold. While the dragons of Argonessen may be the grandest thing created by the Progenitors, we were the first---created from the Progenitor's blood itself.
> 
> ...



  Vhir: [sblock]Morika listens attentively, first looking thoughtful, then giving an amused snort.  "You're the opposite side of me.  I get paid to make things happen through excessive amounts of violence.  You do it through magic and words.  I think we're not so different, Vhir.  I'm not a nice person, but I'm not necessarily evil.  Nor good" she says, and holds out a hand for him to clasp in understanding.[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Jul 12, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> Vhir: [sblock]"I think we're not so different, Vhir.  I'm not a nice person, but I'm not necessarily evil.  Nor good" she says, and holds out a hand for him to clasp in understanding.[/sblock]



[sblock=Morika]Vhir purposeful gives his claw, clasping as firmly as a two foot tall lizard can. Which is not much. Whatever menance surrounds the kobold, it is not through strength of arms.

"We do what needs doing. It is good to have this understanding. Now, if you excuse me..."[/sblock]
The kolbold turns away from the shifter, its conversation aparently complete. Noting that none of the other companions are on deck, it makes its way to a chair, takes out its neatly folded copy of the _Inquistive_, and resumes reading.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jul 12, 2006)

As the travelers settled into their quarters and wandered the decks, the galleon pulled smoothly out of the harbor and made eastward, keeping within eyesight of Cape Far.  Before long, the town that they’d been in only a few hours ago was an indistinguishable dot on the grey horizon.  The cliffs rose steadily higher at their side, as well as increasingly more rough-hewn and sharp. Their dark jagged line was soon the only landmark in sight; all the rest was dull-colored sea and sky.  Around them, the waves took a more turbulent mood, making those with weak stomachs regret the voyage.

The bustle of the crew seemed minimal, most working shifts cleaning or keeping lookout.  Gorbrekken and his first mate shared turns piloting the galleon and checking in on the crew and passengers.  No one seemed to mind that Elinvath’s group wandered casually or sat out on deck, though the dwarves and their laymen did not emerge from their cabins.

[sblock="Doral"]Doral, meanwhile, found a pleasurable enough group of crewmen, who were currently occupied with taking stock of provisions in a lower hold.  A light and joking conversation was soon struck up, and before long the beguiler was treated as a companion.  (Especially helped by his offer to aid the organization of the rather haphazard storage hold.)

As their work continued on into the evening, for the crewmen’s shift wouldn’t allow them to eat dinner at the normal time, the conversation melted smoothly into more personal subjects.  Starting with how interesting it was that they worked with a pirate band, even though they still remain members of the House Lyrandar, it led into how surely they must sometimes do much more dangerous and exciting things than rearrange storage holds.

“Eh, so menny kids a-come to th’ sea, hopin’ fer adventure… but s’lot ah hard work,”  the most chatty crewman said, gesturing to the heaps of knotted rope he was untangling.  “But sometimes, ‘cuz we’re under orders ah the Prince ‘n all, we getta do some real dang’rous stuffs. ‘Specially on this ‘ere ship, a-‘cuz ah she’s so fast.”[/sblock]
As the hours passed lazily by, the sun began to droop nearer to the western horizon and the wind from the rapidly moving ship caught a new sting of cold as evening descended.  Then, abruptly, the calm was broken by the shrill iron bell on the bridge, and the captain’s voice declaring dinner for any unoccupied crewmemebr or passenger who wanted it.  As the crewmen on deck moved towards the stern set of doors and down to the galley, Gorbrekken slowly descended the companionway, and caught sight of the warforged quietly whittling in a corner of the deck. He strode over, and said much more jovially,

“So ‘ello, eh, Carver.  List’n, about tha’ tour yeh were wanting… I promis’d our dwarv’n dignitaries I’d dine with ‘em.  Hope yah don’ mind ‘n all.  But, tah make it up to yah, I told Wilsbree up there to explain all ‘bout the Element’l to yeh.”  He pointed towards the vapor-tower, where the first mate was navigating the ship.



[sblock="Map of the Voyage Thus Far (anyone can view)"]
	

	
	
		
		

		
			




[/sblock]


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## James Heard (Jul 12, 2006)

With only a slight sway in his step, a pleasant sort of murmur in his head that seemed to do quite nicely for replacing the constant swaying of the ship with the more familiar swaying of the wine, Dragen pushed himself away from his place at the table and made his way toward the ship's galley. One eye set itself suspiciously open of the other that seemed determined to remain half-closed in protest, and though unstrung the aging archer thinks absolutely nothing about carrying his bow with him to the galley with it wrapped in its cloths as if a child.


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## stonegod (Jul 12, 2006)

The coldness of the Lhazaar air effected the kobold differently than the rest of the companions; thought it did not make him lethargic (as it would a normal lizard), his need for food did decrease. However, it was still present. Thus, while he did not eat the provisions their patron had provided, by the time the dinner bell was sounded, hunger had returned.

The kobold makes his way to the galley, in no particular hurry. When there, it makes for the food, observing who is joining then and who is not. If any sailors give him odd looks, it will return them---directly, staring into their eyes with all the consquences that occasionally brings. Finally, it will sit at a table occupied with its co-consipirators. It will not initially strike up any conversations, instead focusing on its meal.


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## Bobitron (Jul 12, 2006)

Glasia seems to be enjoying the sea, spending the majority of her time on the deck. Cloudchaser seems to have taken a liking to Morika, and stops by on an hourly basis to see what she is up to and looking for small treats and attention. The hawk's trust seems to be extending to Glasia as well, who smiles to the shifter whenever their paths cross, even though she remains silent unless spoken to.

The enjoyment was dampened by the cool weather and rocking ship as the climate worsened as the sun fell behind the horizon. Making her way to dinner, she wrapped herself in a cloak again, allowing Cloudchaser to rest on her shoulder. Shivering a little, she sat down to the meal, greeting the archer and kobold with a friendly nod.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 12, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> [sblock="Doral"]Doral, meanwhile, found a pleasurable enough group of crewmen, who were currently occupied with taking stock of provisions in a lower hold.  A light and joking conversation was soon struck up, and before long the beguiler was treated as a companion.  (Especially helped by his offer to aid the organization of the rather haphazard storage hold.)
> 
> As their work continued on into the evening, for the crewmen’s shift wouldn’t allow them to eat dinner at the normal time, the conversation melted smoothly into more personal subjects.  Starting with how interesting it was that they worked with a pirate band, even though they still remain members of the House Lyrandar, it led into how surely they must sometimes do much more dangerous and exciting things than rearrange storage holds.
> 
> “Eh, so menny kids a-come to th’ sea, hopin’ fer adventure… but s’lot ah hard work,”  the most chatty crewman said, gesturing to the heaps of knotted rope he was untangling.  “But sometimes, ‘cuz we’re under orders ah the Prince ‘n all, we getta do some real dang’rous stuffs. ‘Specially on this ‘ere ship, a-‘cuz ah she’s so fast.”[/sblock]




DM
[sblock]
Doral's ears prick up at this.  "Wow!  It sounds dangerous!  But don't you sometimes get worried?  I mean, when you attack ships from their cargo there is always the risk the survivors will remember this craft and its crew."

Doral will look at the chatty crewmember with keen interest.  If the chatty man insists that they work mostly in something like smuggling, and not in outright bloodshed, Doral will attempt to smooth over any hurt feelings with: "That sounds even more exciting.  I bet the tension during that work is enough to make twice the men out of those that can stomach it.  I'll drink a pint to your crew when I reach shore."  Doral will continue to help before dinner, and turn the conversation to lighter subjects unless something else pricks his interest.
[/sblock]


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 13, 2006)

Morika enjoys the affection Cloudchaser gives her, and nods absently at Glaisa when she passes, not exactly friendly, but not as belligerant as she had been earlier.  When fresh and warm food was offered, however, not even her reluctance of roofs could keep her from heading below.  Sliding in at the end of the bench, she puts her elbows on the table and grabs the first meaty thing that crosses her field of vision.  

"Sea air gives me the appetite of moose!" she declares, her stomach growling as she scans the table for ale or grog or anything else alchoholic.


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## Bront (Jul 13, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> “So ‘ello, eh, Carver.  List’n, about tha’ tour yeh were wanting… I promis’d our dwarv’n dignitaries I’d dine with ‘em.  Hope yah don’ mind ‘n all.  But, tah make it up to yah, I told Wilsbree up there to explain all ‘bout the Element’l to yeh.”  He pointed towards the vapor-tower, where the first mate was navigating the ship.



"Oh, thank you," Carver says.

Carver will question the poor first mate on everything from the use of the elementals and how they're bound to what they eat and what their names are.

Carver seems to enjoy his time in the sea, and smiles to anyone he meets, which is a bit disconcerning for a forged.  He is partial to the man he knows as Parlinor and Glasia, and is particularly facinated with cloudchaser, who he has reciently made a carving of.  it was not as well done as his rabbit, but it does bear a resemblance to the bird, pirched on a pillow or rock of some kind, which he presents to Glasia, "I hope you like it.  It's Cloudchaser, perched on a cloud."

Durring meals, Carver will head down below deck, mostly to see what all the hubbub is about.  He will even sample a bit of things here and there, out of curiosity, but never more than a sample.

OOC: Carver's Carving of Cloudchaser


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## Ringmereth (Jul 13, 2006)

Four of the passengers respond promptly to the sound of the dinner bell's ring, and walk into the stern galley to a find a hefty meal prepared for them. Unsurprisingly, the main course is seafood; thick fillets of halibut, lightly seasoned, rest on a platter next to baked dwarven potatoes basted with beer. Dark bread, wedges of cheese, and a salad of Lhazaar greens are also prepared for the guests, and pitchers of ale, red wine, and water are set at each of the three tables in the room. From their seats, the four new companions can see a waning moon above the darkening horizon through the broad aft windows.

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, Carver is treated to a chance to interrogate Wilsbree, a well-muscled half-elf with a bald head and blue eyes. He tries to explain the mechanics of the ship's controls, but is quickly overwhelmed by the inquisitive warforged. "Listen 'ere, I'm no proper wizard--they're the ones who bind the beasties. All I know's there's a great Khyber shard behind those supports," he explains, pointing below the bridge. "His spirit'n'such man'fests isself in the ring--" he waves his arm at the circle of vapor which drives the vessel "And _that_ is what I concern meself with."

The first mate quickly continues. "It's this," he says, patting the dark wooden helm which dominates the bridge, "that makes House Lyrandar a m'nopoly on this buisness of elemental transit, you see. The _wheel_ holds our elemental quite powerless to resist what I want it t'do. See, without it an' a Mark of Storm, it's your will fightin' his, but next to this, I just tell the _Thresher_ where to go and we're there faster than the wind could carry us."

- - - - - - - - - -

[sblock=Doral]The crewman beside Doral hands him a hefty crate and frowns. "I thinks yeh've got th' wrong idea 'bout this crew.  Wer' under th'orders uh the Prince, sure, but we's aren't pirates ourselves. 'ouse Lyrandar," he says firmly, "an't ne'er been one tah plunder shippin', 'specially in th' Princ'palities.  We's honest sailors." He nods his chin up a bit at this, a proud gesture of superiority. "We deal 'n tranport, no less, nah' petty piracy." And with that statement, he turned back to his stack of crates, abruptly concluding the conversation.[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 13, 2006)

When Doral's work is done, he moves to join his adventuring companions if they are still there, or stays with the crew if they are not.  Either way, he says to the company present "A beautiful view and good food.  Have you ever had a more pleasurable journey?"


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## stonegod (Jul 13, 2006)

The kobold eat without affected grace but without disgracing manners. Its functional. When it notices the others, it will nod perfunctoraly. When the half-elf sits, it is direct. "Did you determine anything of interest that you can discuss now?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 13, 2006)

With a smirk Doral says, "Yes.  Kobolds are impatient."

He takes his time cutting out some dark bread and laying on some cheese, taking a bite, and washing it down with some red wine.  Leaning back in his chair he says, "Ah.  What an excellent assignment so far.  Besides the tidbit about kobolds, let me lay out everything we know."

"We are on Prince Kolberkon's ship, which is ironic if you think about our mission.  We are here to negotiate with that gentleman for what he has in his keeping.  No need to get into details now with possible prying ears about."

"We are not the only passengers, nor are we being given the royal treatment, such as the dwarves have received.  They are special guests of Prince Kolberkon, from House Kundarak, and are needed by the prince to establish a bank and help stabilize his economy so Port Verge may become a major trading center.  In other words, they are extremely important to the man."

"The most important dwarf in the delegation appears to be Kinndareck, who claims to be a member of the Department of Expansion.  His attendants are named Iytin and Bourstrart.  We have some negotiating to do, so I would suggest that we get to it.  One or two of us should approach the dwarves and explain our situation.  If we can get on their good side, we may be able to use them to help twist the prince's arm and gain what we came for.  Otherwise, perhaps we can find out where they will be working in Port Verge and cause something 'bad', but not necessarily deadly to happen to them.  This might cause the Prince to divert his attention to the dwarves, making it easier to recover what we came for."

"Oh, one last thing... we are on one of the Prince's smuggling ships.  They aren't pirates, and so they avoid bloodshed and mayhem, but this may be one of the fastest ships and skilled crews in the area.  Maybe we can use it to escape with our 'package' later, if we can pay off the crew for betraying the Prince.  Or else we can keep our 'package' hidden.  If we can't, we may consider scuttling it so the Prince's men can't chase us down on whatever we do use for transport later."

"Just my two coppers," he says with a wink.


----------



## MadMaxim (Jul 14, 2006)

Partash sits in his room still meditating. _I'll just remain in my room. Il-Yannah requires my complete attention. I'll ask Morika for some rations later on. I wonder if our journey will stay as quiet as it is now? I certainly hope so._


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 14, 2006)

"If this is the fastest, we'd be stupid to scuttle it.  We can handle the crew if need be, bribes or threats, whatever works to get them to pilot this ship after we get our prize," Morika cuts in.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 14, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> "If this is the fastest, we'd be stupid to scuttle it.  We can handle the crew if need be, bribes or threats, whatever works to get them to pilot this ship after we get our prize," Morika cuts in.




Doral nods to Morika.  "Agreed, but you never know what obstables may come our way."


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## Bobitron (Jul 14, 2006)

Bront said:
			
		

> ...which he presents to Glasia, "I hope you like it.  It's Cloudchaser, perched on a cloud."




Taken aback by the gift, Glasia is suprised as the warforged presents the carving. "Thank you, Carver. I will cherish it."

She listens to the planning with interest, but remains quiet as the more forward members of the group propose ideas. Enjoying the simple fare, which was far better than the pirates ate in the tales of her youth, she chewed thoughtfully until Morika's comment and the reply from the half-elf. Swallowing, she speaks timidly.

"We could talk to the captain tonight. Better to know where he stands now than risk the confrontation at a time not of our choosing."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 14, 2006)

Morika gives a low chuckle at Glasia's suggestion.  "We're doing something _illegal_, child.  We'd be lucky if he just threw us overboard for suggesting it.  We're messing with pirate politics, remember?"


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## stonegod (Jul 14, 2006)

The kobold listens patiently, though it frowns at Glasia's comment. To her, it says in low tones, "Let us not forget that our query was kidnapped. Is is lawful to keep him under such conditions, for lack of a crime other than being who he is?"

To the rest: "Remember, we are 'agents' of the Princes Hesr'lan and Jedernis. In addition, the dwarves may look unfavorably upon trying to release Gaardasci on the grounds that piracy does interrupt trade, and thus the flow of money to them. We should talk to them yes, but we must find out a lever---something they want or fear happening. Let me think on this."


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## Bobitron (Jul 14, 2006)

"I'm... I'm sorry. I have never done anything like this before," she says, somewhat ashamed.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 14, 2006)

Doral tells Glasia with a smile, "No apology necessary.  You made a decent suggestion, but I wouldn't let the entire cat out of the bag when you speak to the captain.  Yes, that's right.  You're going to speak to him.  You're innocence is an asset.  Simply inquire on when this ship is next due to depart for whence we came.  And ask him how much it will cost to buy someone a ticket.  Also, ask him the price for us to bring cargo on board.  Something around 200 pounds in weight, and the size of a barrel.  Make sure not you do not answer any of his questions."

"Now... who is going to be our diplomat?  I want to be present when he goes into a discussion with the dwarves, although I should simply act as a helpful assistant.  And when you speak of leverage, what do you think we will find?  That the dwarves are actually closet cross-dressers with a penchant for elven wine?"


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## stonegod (Jul 14, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> "Now... who is going to be our diplomat?  I want to be present when he goes into a discussion with the dwarves, although I should simply act as a helpful assistant.  And when you speak of leverage, what do you think we will find?  That the dwarves are actually closet cross-dressers with a penchant for elven wine?"



The kobold arches the skin above his eye again. He continues further in quiet tones, "Nothing so pedestrian. No, we must go at what they wish---money. If we can determine the exact nature of their proposed agreement, and what could make that go sour, that would give us the edge. As an example, one could state that a hypothetical destabilization of the Port Verge economy could occur if one person were not relieved of their imprisonment; perhaps suggest that that person has broader connections than Port Verge is letting on. And perhaps further suggest that there is evidence---however 'truthful'---of this, and perhaps of other shady dealings of Port Verge that would not be in the dwarves best interest. That sort of thing. Negotiation is either telling someone exactly what they want to hear or making them worry about that which worries them most."

The kobold lens back in its chair a moment, stroking its long jaw. "But your suggestion of sending Glasia to ask the Captain is appropriate. Such simple queries, by the one least likely to arouse suspicion, should conceal our purpose. As for the negotiation---that is my duty. That is what I was hired for."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 14, 2006)

Doral nods at this.  "Then I suggest we spend this first night enjoying our 'cruise'.  This will allow us to observe the comings and goings of the dwarves before we act.  After we determine their sleeping and eating habits, I can always slip into their quarters and attempt to find any written instructions they have received from the leaders of their House.  Also, let's see if the crewmembers clean our rooms and the quarters of the dwarves in the morning.  If so, that may make my slipping inside easier."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 14, 2006)

"Something's always illegal to someone, whether we leave him or spring him, we're going to annoy _somebody_.  So I just assume we're breaking someone's rules and go from there.  But as for negotiating, unless you need someone threatened I'd better stay far away.  I prefer my dealings direct and violent," Morika says, leaning back and picking her teeth with a dagger, a predatory smile on her face.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 15, 2006)

Partash gets off the bed and stands up in the little room. _I wonder what the others are doing right now? Well, they're probably eating. Perhaps I should join them so I don't come off as too much of a hermit._ Partash walks out of the room and tries to locate the dining room on the ship. He's obviously not accustomed to traveling by ship, but he finally makes his way there. He walks into the room looking for his companions.

"Well, good evening ladies and gentlemen. Did you enjoy your dinner?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 15, 2006)

Doral nods in approval and passes a plate of bread and cheese to the new arrival. "Hello friend, you must try it.  Oh, and do grab some wine.  It helps the food go down easier."


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## Ringmereth (Jul 15, 2006)

MadMaxim said:
			
		

> [OOC: Partash still hasn't revealed his true identity, so Carver still only knows him as Parlinor Tashlov




I'd also note that, unless I'm missing something, Partash didn't inform anyone of his meditations.


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## Bront (Jul 15, 2006)

Carver sits in on the dinner discussion quietly listening, which is a little odd for Carver, but he seems quote intent on listening.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 16, 2006)

Partash finds a seat next to Doral and starts eating and drinking. Once he finishes, he adresses the entire group. "I'm sorry to first show up now, but the teachings of the Host require a certain amount of praying be done every day."


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## Ringmereth (Jul 16, 2006)

As the conversation dies down and Parlinor begins his late dinner, a blonde half-elf sailor enters the galley and efficently clears away the meal's remains. "Ah hope ye enjoyed th' supper," he says while refilling an ale pitcher and retrieving a platter formerly heaped with salad. With a smile, he glances out the window at the dusky sea. "By this time on th' 'morrow ye'll be settin' foot on the docks o' Port Verge," the crewman predicts, and with careful steps takes the stack of dishes from the room.


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## stonegod (Jul 16, 2006)

Just as Parlinor is arriving, the kobold says to the Doral, "Yes, I believe that is a servicable plan." It then turns and looks intently at the new arrival, but says nothing.

~~

When the plates are cleared, the kobold finally addresses Parlinor. "A templar of the faith, then? And do you have any thoughts on the journey?"


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## Bobitron (Jul 17, 2006)

Glasia looks a little nervous at the prospect of asking the captain, but she nods and finishes her meal. By the time the others arrive, she is ready to go.

Excusing herself, she walks across the deck, looking for a crewmember and inquiring as to the captain's whereabouts. Once she meets him, she smiles prettily and introduces herself. 

"I did have a few questions for you, if you have a moment. Once we are in port, how long are you staying? Where do you sail to next? How much would a ticket cost to continue onward? Oh, and cargo, something not very large. Maybe the size of a barrel. Would that cost much to transport?"


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## MadMaxim (Jul 17, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> When the plates are cleared, the kobold finally addresses Parlinor. "A templar of the faith, then? And do you have any thoughts on the journey?"



Partash passes his empty plate to the half-elf sailor while keeping an eye on the kobold. "Indeed, Sir. However, I'm more of a field researcher in all matters arcane and divine, though my faith certainly lies with the great Sovereign Host." He picks up his glass and takes another sip of the wine before answering the kobold's second question:

"I do have thoughts concerning our journey and our mission. I can only hope for a successful and peaceful outcome, and I certainly hope we can reach our goals through negotiation rather than use of force. So I propose a toast to a successful mission." He raises the glass once more clear for everyone to see. "To us", he smiles.

[OOC: A Bluff check might be in order on this one. Partash is stretching the truth concerning his faith a bit]


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## James Heard (Jul 17, 2006)

"Here's to the successful negotiation through force that is always inevitable. And to _whatever _is in our cups, may it squash the nightmares of our youth and become the indiscretions of our future." 

The archer belches loudly, turns on his heel and walks out, pausing only so long as to snatch up his ubiquitous rag-wrapped longbow and to wave a vaguely obscene gesture to the skies as he leaves.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 17, 2006)

Morika gives a short laugh at the archer's comment, and raises her cup briefly to the others.  "May we ever be the predators, and not the prey!" she says and gulps down her ale, emptying her cup for the toast.


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## stonegod (Jul 18, 2006)

Parlinor said:
			
		

> Partash passes his empty plate to the half-elf sailor while keeping an eye on the kobold. "Indeed, Sir. However, I'm more of a field researcher in all matters arcane and divine, though my faith certainly lies with the great Sovereign Host."
> [OOC: A Bluff check might be in order on this one. Partash is stretching the truth concerning his faith a bit]



The kobld arches the flesh over one of its eyes a moment. "Really? A follower of the Nine? Interesting. Then, I will assume you will grant us your blessing, whether negotiation goes good or ill."

[ooc: Assuming 10's everywhere, that kobold probably saw through your ruse. Though, with his Bluff, you probably don't know it. ]



			
				Parlinor said:
			
		

> He raises the glass once more clear for everyone to see. "To us", he smiles.





			
				Dragen said:
			
		

> "Here's to the successful negotiation through force that is always inevitable. And to _whatever _is in our cups, may it squash the nightmares of our youth and become the indiscretions of our future."





			
				Morika said:
			
		

> "May we ever be the predators, and not the prey!"





			
				Carver said:
			
		

> Carver sits in on the dinner discussion quietly listening, which is a little odd for Carver, but he seems quote intent on listening.



Nodding only slightly at the offered toast and its response, tipping its untouched glass a fraction, the kobold addresses the construct. "And now you, Carver. What will you bring to this endeavor? You have experience in Port Verge. What can you tell us about it and its ruler to make negotiation and what happens afterwards, more successful."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 18, 2006)

Morika listens to the kobold, then turns her attention to the warforged.  Vhir seemed to have a good and solid head on his shoulders, and his words were probably worth listening to.  Most of the time.  Unless he said something stupid.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 18, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> "Really? A follower of the Nine? Interesting. Then, I will assume you will grant us your blessing, whether negotiation goes good or ill."



"Of course", Partash says while he's grabbing the silver holy symbol of the Host which hangs around his neck. He closes his eyes, makes some gestures with his left hand and utters: "Bless us, high lords of valor, wisdom and strength. May we be met with success on this most important of missions."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jul 18, 2006)

Glasia found the captain in his well-lit and richly decorated quarters, hunched over a large oak writing desk cluttered with parchment, rolled maps, ink bottles and small assorted boxes.  The ornate lamp on a corner of the desk illuminated a miniature, strange-looking brass instrument sitting before him, which was comprised of several slowly rotating and clicking parts.  The captain kept looking up at it and then marking careful notes on a map of the bay, apparently reading the device to plot his navigation across the open waters.

He looked up from his work, surprised to hear the soft voice for the first time.  He politely introduced himself in return, speaking to the young woman with finer manners than he had used when she first encountered him.  After hearing her questions, Gorbrekken leaned back in his old leather chair and inspected her honest-looking face a second time, now more seriously.

“Ah… well, yeh see Miss, mah ship is ‘ardly a ferry, by any means.  She’s eh transport vess’l most ah thuh time, but ‘onestly, we’s just carry ‘enything tha Prince needs moved fast.”   Smiling proudly, he waved his hand towards the planked wood floors.  “The Thresh’r’s the finest ship en all ah Lhazaar, an’ the fastest.

“Tha point, though, is that I don’ z’actly sell tickets tah sail aboard ‘er.  At least, nah very of’en, or very cheaply.”  He suddenly perked up again, leaning forward in his chair and smiling, only somewhat falsely, at Glasia. “’owever, you ‘n yehr friends are ‘n luck.  Werr gonna be spendin’ three nights anchored in Port Verge, an’ then tha next morning we sail for Tantamar again, to bring theh dwarves ‘ome.  An’ since that’s a ‘nother pass’nger voyage, I could arrange to ‘ave you sail with us ag’in.  If yeh’d like…”

He abruptly began pushing the map and brass instrument aside, and rooted out a piece of parchment that appeared to be a ledger.  After looking it over carefully, he looked back up at Glasia, his expression all business now.

“Yer friend who bought ya yehr way onto this voyage, ‘e paid a fair sum ah gold fer the priv’lage.  An’ since I don’ have a usu’l price for the journey, it seems fair enough tah charge theh same amount again, aye?  So… it’ll come tah forty-five gold ah head, plus… Oh, ‘ow about only ten gold fer yer cargo?”  By this point, he had already picked up his scraggly quill again, and dipped it into the black inkpot.  Captain Gorbrekken looked up expectantly at the young wizard, quill-tip poised to enter her purchase into the ledger, hoping to hurry the transaction along.


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## Bobitron (Jul 18, 2006)

Glasia grimaces at the quoted price. "That is many times the price I had expected," she says with a shocked expression on her face. "There are many of us. Seven travelers at 45 a head is over 300 gold! A bit steep considering the space would otherwise be wasted. After all, you stated the intent of your journey was to bring the dwarves back, not to carry cargo or a full tally of passengers. It would be a shame to sail with empty space available," she states, attempting to appeal to the merchant that lurks beneath the sailor. She leans forward in her chair, smiling.

"If we can settle on a more reasonable price, we may be able to reach an agreement. Unfortunately, I know not if we need to return in such a manner tonight. I'll discuss it with my companions."


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## Bront (Jul 18, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> odding only slightly at the offered toast and its response, tipping its untouched glass a fraction, the kobold addresses the construct. "And now you, Carver. What will you bring to this endeavor? You have experience in Port Verge. What can you tell us about it and its ruler to make negotiation and what happens afterwards, more successful."



"Well, I don't personaly know the ruler, but I know my way around the streets fairly well.  I mean, I did spend almost all of my life there, a whole 10 months!" Carver says.  "It has been a long time since I was there though, a lot can happen in 2 months.  I've been mostly wandering Korvairre and crafting things.  And I think pretty soon, I'll be able to invest a personality into my morningstar.  It will be so exciting to have a companion on my travels."

"But you want to hear about the Port, don't you?  Well, there's a great Seafood place called the Silver Tide.  Bim used to go there all the time.  He must have done something for the owner, because he was always nice to me after Bim died.  And then there's this blacksmith who makes some of the finest iron bars I've ever seen.  Oh, and..." Carver will go on unless someone stops him or everyone leaves.

OOC: Carver does know who the ruler is, I don't have the book to look it up at the moment.


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## stonegod (Jul 18, 2006)

The kobold listens patiently as the warforged prattles on. After about a minute, it raises its hand. "So, Port Verge is a relatively stable port, and the Prince allows free travel about the town, it appears. That is good to know; will make our activities easier. Thank you, Carver, that will be enough."

With that, the kobold stands. "I will retire for the evening. We shall continue this business tomorrow."

[OOC: Mein gott! Put Tondrek and Carver in a room and they'd never shut up! ]


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## Ringmereth (Jul 18, 2006)

[sblock=The Kobold]While the archivist's profession is certainly what Parlinor says it is, Vhir finds his declaration of faith in the Host insincere.[/sblock]


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## MadMaxim (Jul 19, 2006)

"Excellent, Carver. Your knowledge of the area will come in handy without a doubt. Is there anything else, you can tell us about the city?" Partash sounds genuinely interested in whatever knowledge Carver might have.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 19, 2006)

Bront said:
			
		

> "Well, I don't personaly know the ruler, but I know my way around the streets fairly well.  I mean, I did spend almost all of my life there, a whole 10 months!" Carver says.  "It has been a long time since I was there though, a lot can happen in 2 months.  I've been mostly wandering Korvairre and crafting things.  And I think pretty soon, I'll be able to invest a personality into my morningstar.  It will be so exciting to have a companion on my travels."
> 
> "But you want to hear about the Port, don't you?  Well, there's a great Seafood place called the Silver Tide.  Bim used to go there all the time.  He must have done something for the owner, because he was always nice to me after Bim died.  And then there's this blacksmith who makes some of the finest iron bars I've ever seen.  Oh, and..." Carver will go on unless someone stops him or everyone leaves.



  Morika was going to comment on Carver's idea of a weapon having a personality, but decided it would be useless.  The 'forged obviously had the attention span of a gnat and the grasp of reality of a cloud-chaser.  She endures his comments for another five seconds before losing her short temper.  "For the love of Balinor, can't you just sum things up instead of babbling like a brook?  If you end up talking that much during our little mission, we're all going to end up in the stocks because you were talking to the guards like old drinking buddies!  Save your words, they're too precious to waste on idle chat," she snaps, shoving away from the table.  However, one clawed hand does keep a firm grip on her mug.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jul 19, 2006)

The captain deflated ever so slightly, but did not allow the smile to leave his face.  He set the quill back in the glass ink jar with a small flourish, and set the ledger aside.

“Ah, well… S’pose it’s only fair tah talk to yehr friends ’fore spendin’ their gold, mm?  Please, though… be sure tah tell me your decision theh ev’ning ‘fore we set sail fer Tantamar again.  An’ the sooner yeh decide, tha better.  Even fer something as small as a barrel, space in tha ‘holds fills up fast on this ship.”

Gorbrekken then stood up, and courteously showed Glasia out of his quarters, bidding her a good night on the rougher open seas.
____________________________________________

As the kobold leaves the galley, a more elderly crewmate passed him in the doorway and nodded politely, before coming into the dining room, which was now abandoned save for the small group listening to the animatedly talking warforged.

“’Allo,” he said simply, as he wiped his hands on an even greasier apron cloth and began stacking up the scattered dishes and leftover food.  He looked up when the wild-looking young woman erupted angrily, obviously startled and somewhat unnerved.  He didn’t recognize any of the folks at the table, but did remember the kobold coming into his kitchen earlier, and knew them to be member of the same party.

Quietly, but in an ungraceful way that reminds one of a mouse more than anything, the grey-haired old cook left the room again.  He politely left some of the food and drink for the travelers, though he probably intended to come back for it as soon as they had gone.
____________________________________________

OOC: The ruler of Port Verge is Prince Kolberkon.


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## Bront (Jul 19, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> Morika was going to comment on Carver's idea of a weapon having a personality, but decided it would be useless.  The 'forged obviously had the attention span of a gnat and the grasp of reality of a cloud-chaser.  She endures his comments for another five seconds before losing her short temper.  "For the love of Balinor, can't you just sum things up instead of babbling like a brook?  If you end up talking that much during our little mission, we're all going to end up in the stocks because you were talking to the guards like old drinking buddies!  Save your words, they're too precious to waste on idle chat," she snaps, shoving away from the table.  However, one clawed hand does keep a firm grip on her mug.



"Where is this talking water of which you speak?  That sounds truely facinating?  Or is that some sort of expression?  And why would I talk to guards that are guarding what we're after?  Though, I suposed that talking might be some kind of good distraction, but still it's not like I would be a drinking buddy, as I'd have never had a drink with him.  Do you need a buddy to drink?  Is it like swimming?" Carver asks.


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## Bobitron (Jul 19, 2006)

Glasia makes her way to Doral after bidding the captain goodnight, stating his offer. "He seems unwilling to discuss the price," she explains with a sigh. "So much money!" She sits down unsteadily as the ship hits a particularly heavy wave. "But it stays in port for three nights. That fits our plans. Perhaps we could seek another vessel once we reach port? One more desperate for work?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 19, 2006)

Doral gave a friendly smile to the elderly man handling the dishes.

When Glasia enters he listens with interest to her story, absorbing every word.  Once or twice he asks small details, such as what kind of lock was on the cabin and whether the captain had any noticeable vices.  When she is done Doral leans back and whistles in appreciation.

"So you convinced him to keep the relatively low sum he first offered and to also leave the offer open until we've gathered enough money.  You've done excellent.  Thank you.  Relax, and enjoy the food.  I guarentee we'll be glad for the rest.  Oh, and I'll go with the kobold when he goes to negotiate with the dwarves."  Doral repeats his plan to those who had not been at the meal before.

After Doral finishes his meal, he'll move to the deck, then to examine the ships's piloting system, then towards his quarters and back through the ship, looking for any of the dwarves that he intends to eventually bargain.  He observes their schedule and for a chance to find them all leaving their quarters so that he make sneak inside...


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## stonegod (Jul 19, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> "Oh, and I'm still looking for a volunteer for negotiating with the dwarves."



[OOC: I believe the kobold stated that he would talk with them here. He wanted to know a little more about their arrangement, but will work without it if needed.]


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## MadMaxim (Jul 20, 2006)

Partash looks at Morika with a look of concern on his face. "I'm not trying to insult your or anything, Miss Morika, but perhaps you should learn to control your temper a little more? I don't think anyone of us are interested in jeopardizing the success of the mission because of our personal quirks. Carver might just know something that could prove potentially useful for our mission. I have no doubt that your skills and knowledge about the wilderness will prove crucial to our cause, but still, there's no need to be this hard on your companions." He sits back in the chair and waits for the expected outburst from the shifter. _She sure has a short fuse..._


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 20, 2006)

Bront said:
			
		

> "Where is this talking water of which you speak?  That sounds truely facinating?  Or is that some sort of expression?  And why would I talk to guards that are guarding what we're after?  Though, I suposed that talking might be some kind of good distraction, but still it's not like I would be a drinking buddy, as I'd have never had a drink with him.  Do you need a buddy to drink?  Is it like swimming?" Carver asks.



  "It... but... you... no!" Morika manages to sputter in between Carver's non-existant breaks in his questioning.  She's torn between laughter and rage, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she tries to grasp what the warforged is doing.



> Partash looks at Morika with a look of concern on his face. "I'm not trying to insult your or anything, Miss Morika, but perhaps you should learn to control your temper a little more? I don't think anyone of us are interested in jeopardizing the success of the mission because of our personal quirks. Carver might just know something that could prove potentially useful for our mission. I have no doubt that your skills and knowledge about the wilderness will prove crucial to our cause, but still, there's no need to be this hard on your companions."  He sits back in the chair and waits for the expected outburst from the shifter. _She sure has a short fuse..._



  Morika rounds on the young-seeming nondescript man, her mouth snapping shut as her anger finds a better focus than the oblivious 'forged.  "Guess what my quirk is?  Unbridled rage!" she snarls, slamming her mug down on the table.  A shower of ale fills the air, and she calms her breathing a bit.  "I'm a beast at heart, I lived much of my life in the Reaches.  I never learned manners, and I never saw the need for them when I watched other people use them.  'Don't try to teach a boar to sing, it wastes your time and annoys the boar.'  The same is true of shifters and manners, little one."


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## MadMaxim (Jul 21, 2006)

Partash, half-way expecting Morika's outburst, still jumps a little in his seat at the angry tone of her voice. _Did I just ignite a warehouse full of alchemist's fire?_ He quickly collects his thoughts and comes up with a proper response for the obviously very articulate shifter. He narrows his gaze on Morika and says calmly:

"But even rage must be tempered and made useful at the right moments. The cheetah doesn't just charge its prey unless its sure it has a chance of bringing it down before its strength is spent. I'm not telling you to learn unnecessary skills, Miss Morika. I'm simply asking you to manage your strength better than you seemingly are.

After all, you're dealing with creatures that are used to certain customs and ways of interacting and if you fail to see the point of learning these skills, then one could state the question whether or not you are fit for interacting with so-called civilized people. I'm not saying there are anything wrong with your point of view, but if you're not willing to broaden your horizon and learn from other people, then you'll never really grow as a person."

Partash leans back on the chair, obviously satisfied in having stated his point.

"Just think about it, okay?"


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 21, 2006)

Morika waves her free hand lazily and takes another gulp of ale.  Her expression has gone more thoughtful... and more feral.  "Oh, I'm certainly not fit to be with civilized people.  My clan... we spent our lives in the wilds of the Reaches, protecting the little pockets of civilization from the war.  We never had the time to learn to be civilized, because we were saving it.  Funny, eh?"  Morika broods for a minute, then stretches full-length.  Old scars can been seen under her thick hair on her arms and legs, puckered arrow wounds and slim sword slashes.  "I'm old.  I spent a lot of time in the war, and it's hard for me to change.  Why do you think I left the Reaches after the war ended?  I'm looking for little wars, I'm looking for the way things used to be.  When you spent all your life doing something, it's hard to up and change it."


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## Ringmereth (Jul 21, 2006)

As the last of the meal is consumed and the conversation turns from strategy to socializing, the cook returns with a bucket of suds and a rag to clean the table, and the adventurers quickly depart from the galley. Walking out onto the ship's main deck, the time passed at dinner is apparent in the dark night sky above the foggy sea. By this time, a few of the _Thresher's_ crew have taken up the evening's first watch. No other passengers linger on deck. 

Doral is the first to seperate from his companions after his supper; while the others spill onto the deck he quietly pads up the stairs and onto the galleon's bridge. Centered upon it is the ship's wheel, and next to it the captain sits with one hand supporting his head and the other maintaining a light hold on the helm. He raises his head and turns towards the half-elf studying the wheel. "Ah, ev'nin to yeh..." he says, a bit sleepily, and looks questioningly at Doral. "Somethin' yeh need?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 21, 2006)

Doral is momentarily lost in thought as he ponders looking through the captain's cabin while the man is busy.  He decides against it, however, since the possible bits of information he may find would likely prove little worth the risk.

Instead he decides on the more direct approach.  "No, captain.  I was just enjoying the night air.  You look a bit tired, so perhaps you would enjoy some conversation."  Doral asks the captain about some of the basics of his work, specifically on the ship's wheel.  "This must be exhausting work.  I'm sure you enjoy those rare moments at port," Doral says.  He then moves the conversation towards the dwarven guests, which is the subject he really is curious about.  "And I'm surprised we haven't seen the other guests.  At least they seem curteous.  I wonder if they enjoy the outdoors at all.  We really haven't seen them come up since they've arrived.  And all that baggage they brought onboard!  Myself, I prefer to travel light."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jul 22, 2006)

The captain blinked a bit blearily at Doral, and turned his gaze back to the choppy seas, and thin grey fog that meshed smoothly into the patchily clouded sky.  Taking this to mean he could continue to converse if he so chose, the half-elf began to inquire about the workings of the ship’s steering and its wheel.

Sighing lightly, Gorbrekken swung his head slowly in Doral’s direction, and grunted, “Wilsbree a‘ready explain’d it the Carver.  Jus’ ask him ‘bout it, fair?”

Unperturbed, after a momentary pause Doral continued chattily,



> "This must be exhausting work. I'm sure you enjoy those rare moments at port."




The unenthusiastic captain replied only by ignoring him, as he stared towards the northeastern horizon.  Another minute went by with only the sloshing of darkened wave-foam, and then the beguiler made one last attempt:



> "And I'm surprised we haven't seen the other guests. At least they seem curteous. I wonder if they enjoy the outdoors--"




The harried captain stood up suddenly, and turned fully to face the half-elf, and nearly let out an angry word before biting back his lip.  He then said, in a somewhat forced calm,

“Lis’n.  Ah’ve been at sea fer many, many years.  I’m _used_ tah a lonely night’s shift.  So why don’ you jus’ pester them yerself come mornin’?”  He then looked at Doral, and seemingly realized he’d snapped too quickly.  “Any’ow… those dwarves in’t sayin’ anythin’.”  He smiled for the first time in their conversation.  “B’lieve me… I tried all dinn’r long.”  Before the beguiler could reply, Gorbrekken turned back to the wheel, now standing tall and officially.  “G’night, Doral,”  he said simply.
________________________________

As the last of passengers settled into sleep or solitary activity to pass time, the _Thresher_ plowed on, pushing its hasty way through the cold grey waters.  The cliffs to the east had long since fallen away below the horizon, and out on the open gulf, a constant and freezing wind sliced down from the northwest.  Eventually, a timid glow of sunlight crept above the waves to the east, revealing a craggy bluish-grey mountain rising from the fog.  As the sun broke, the clouds thinned, uncovering a sky of watery pinks and yellows fighting the night into the west.  The mountain became a large, rock island sitting silently in the water at their starboard side, the only sign of land in the gulf.

Systematically, the crew awoke and went about their work without comment.  No one disturbed the guests who remained in their quarters, however; the breakfast bell would not sound for a few more hours.
________________________________
[sblock="The Voyage Thus Far (Map)"]
	

	
	
		
		

		
			





[/sblock]


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## James Heard (Jul 22, 2006)

Stumbling out of his bunk with his head pounding again, Dragen tried to remind himself that he wasn't still in his cups  - _No, just on a gods-forsaken deathrap._

As he emptied his guts into the pot on the floor and wiped the filth from his mouth he wondered again, _Why do I do this to myself? It's not as if it makes the stars at night any dimmer._

On unsteady feet, he collected his precious bow and tumbled down the corridors onto the deck to attempt to do his morning exercises and limber up bones that were beginning to creak and protest too much even when they whispered into the draw of the string.

_I'm getting too old for this,_ he thought.

_Lucky you,_ he answered silently.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 22, 2006)

As soon as Doral feels rested, he quickly dons his clothes and heads up to the ship's deck, keeping an eye out for the dwarves.  If they still seem to be in their cabin, he'll stare out at the sea and take out his spyglass and examine the nearby island, focusing on the shore and the peak of the mountain.  Doral will take any mental notes on the locations of beaches and for any signs of artificial structures.

"Hmmm... I'd hate to have to use it, but it may be a good place to hide out in case we run into trouble on the return trip," he thinks to himself.


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## stonegod (Jul 23, 2006)

With dawn, the kobold awoke. It spent some time rubbing oils into its skin and scraping it with a hard stone, a most unusual routine for the softer-skinned. Dressed in its usual finery, the kobold then went to a sitting chair near the dwarves' quarters, took out his usual reading, and waited. _Doral best have remembered his planned subterfuge this morning,_ it thought. _I may be talking to them blind until he does so._

With the patience of Dragons, the kobold waited.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 23, 2006)

Partash rests uneasily. His sleep is disturbed time and again by the memories of his quori spirit, events that transpired eons ago on Dal Quor, the plane of dreams. It isn't a dream as such, but visions of the spirit bound to his soul being hunted by its darker kin. It narrowly escapes its pursuers and flys through a portal to some unknown destination and with a flash, it disappears.

Partash twists and turns until he falls out of his bed and onto the hard wooden floor of the ship. He wakes up, soaked in his own sweat. _Those bloody memories, Tash... Why am I to be cursed with your damned memories!_

He gets back into bed with a small prayer to il-Yannah on his lips and tries to get some more rest.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 24, 2006)

Morika rolls herself up on in her bedroll on deck, unless the captain decides to run her off.  At the first breath of dawn, she awakens, predatory senses strained to their limits.  Breathing slowly, she turns to face the dawn and murmurs her prayers to the morning.  Anyone standing near her might not hear the prayers as words, but as stylized animal and weather sounds, the croak of a frog, the bark of a dog, the whistle of the wind.  It's the language of the druids, and Morika calls her magic to her with its sounds.  Her beast spirit within her breast agrees with Morika's unusual choice today; usually the shifter woman channels her spirit's strength, but today it seems that grace would be a better choice, if they're going to be shipboard.

Seemingly leaner and more lithe, she finally rises and rolls up her bedroll, stuffing it out of sight in her capricious backpack.  With that, she trumps down to breakfast, her stomach growling fit to drown out the waves.


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## Bront (Jul 24, 2006)

Carver sits on the deck, under the moonlight, carving a replica of the ship.  He watches the sailors go about their business, and tries to stay out of the way.

OOC: Carver's Ship Carving (1d20+9=22)


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## Ringmereth (Jul 24, 2006)

As the sky and sea grow brighter, only one of the dwarven guests rises in time with the sun--an unimportant member of the delegation, by Vhir's estimation. Dressed in a thick embroidered coat, the red-haired dwarf looks suprised by the kobold's presence outside his door. Narrowing his eyes at his fellow passenger, he sticks his meaty hands in his pockets and hurries topside. 

Doral, arriving outside the dwarves' quarters a few minutes earlier, percieves no signs of life from the rooms, and goes to the _Thresher's_ top deck to catch a glimpse of the island in the distance. Looking glass pressed to his eye, the half-elf can make out only sparse details of the distant shores and mountain; mist rises off the shores around it, obscuring any obvious harbors and beaches. He spots no signs of civilization, though the far-away isle is too far behind the galleon to be sure.

As she heads aft with newfound grace, Morika notices Doral looking intently at the island with a spyglass. More focused on her appetite, she makes for the galley. Unfortunately, the scent of fresh food she expects as she walks through the door is curiously absent. Apparently, the chef has not begun preparing the morning meal yet.


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## Bront (Jul 24, 2006)

"Good morning Morika," says Carver as he follows her downstairs.  "I finished this last night, and thought you might like it."

Carver offers her his carving of the repilica of the ship they are on.  It's got some fairly intricate detail to it, and seems to have been made with care.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 24, 2006)

Morika had been scowling at the lack of food-smells, but Carver's gift interrupted her tirade before it could begin.  She takes the ship, her expression one of puzzelment.  _Why would he give me anything after I insulted him?  No one's ever done that before..._

"Um... Er... Thank you Carver.  It's... very pretty..." she says slowly.  The shifter seems to be at a loss for words, but what few get gets out seem very sincere.


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## James Heard (Jul 24, 2006)

[Top Deck]

Glaring at the rising sun, Dragen padded onto the top deck still tugging his antique hobgoblin armor onto his knotted frame still dangling his boots from one hand while juggling his bow-wrap and some remnants of last night's meal he took with him in the other. 

Ignoring everyone else in his rather bleary-eyed way, he walked to an empty spot on the deck and tossed his boots to the planks with a heavy thunk. Cracking his neck, he carefully unwrapped his bow and strung it with one of his practice strings. Picking out imaginary targets off in the distance, he began to methodically draw the bow to its full extension with a swift and deadly motion and then ease the tension back to vertical. Over and over again, sometimes with a frown and quick correction at his unseen target or to stop and belch and scratch like some shaggy beast, Dragen aimed his invisible arrows into the dawn.

At the end of it, almost like a prayer, he unstrung the bow and placed his hoary cheek to its wood, silently communicating words unspoken. Once wrapped up in its familiar sweat-stained rags, the aging archer sat down upon the deck and finished the awful business of lacing his boots.


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## Bront (Jul 24, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> "Um... Er... Thank you Carver.  It's... very pretty..." she says slowly.  The shifter seems to be at a loss for words, but what few get gets out seem very sincere.



Carver nods and seems to smile, though he always seems to smile somehow. "Your welcome.  I think it turned out pretty well, though I had some trouble with some of the trim, which can be quite tricky.  I like to carve when there's nothing else to do, and I enjoy sharing them.  I like sharing my other works too, which is probably Bim's business didn't last long when he died.  Do you have any hobies?"


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## Bobitron (Jul 24, 2006)

Glasia is quiet for the remainder of the evening, sipping sparingly at her cup and eating a light dinner. She sits back and observes more than anything else, taking a short walk around the deck to look at the amazing sight of a night sky while at sea before turning in.

[Top Deck]

She greets the morning with a smile. The praise from Doral last night made her feel more comfortable around the group. She makes her way to the deck, standing far out of the path of the busy crew and letting Cloudchaser have free reign of the morning sky. Looking about with her face raised high to enjoy the fresh air, she notes Dragen going through his own morning ritual. Walking over, she reaches him as he laces his boots.

"Good morning," she says with a smile. "You know the bow well, warrior. I have seen many of my people use the longbow, but few have the connection you have. The Silver Flame would be proud to count you as one of its faithful." The wizard speaks with a smile firmly in place, a hint of a joke in her voice on the last sentance.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 25, 2006)

[Galley]



			
				Bront said:
			
		

> Carver nods and seems to smile, though he always seems to smile somehow. "You're welcome.  I think it turned out pretty well, though I had some trouble with some of the trim, which can be quite tricky.  I like to carve when there's nothing else to do, and I enjoy sharing them.  I like sharing my other works too, which is probably Bim's business didn't last long when he died.  Do you have any hobbies?"



  "Oh... well, physical things mostly.  I like to run and climb, I like to watch birds and other creatures, and to talk to them when I can.  I never had the skill for things like this... my hands..." she trails off and takes her hands off of her belt.  Now that they're no longer holding something, there's a faint but perceptible tremble in her hands.  "I guess I owe you something.  You know what I said yesterday, about a babbling brook?  A brook, a small stream of water, makes a gurgling sound when it runs over rocks in its bed.  It sounds a little like a person talking in the distance, so a babbling brook is one that makes some noise.  And a person that babbles like a brook talks a lot, sounding like a running stream.  Does that make sense?"


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## James Heard (Jul 25, 2006)

[Top Deck]


			
				Bobitron said:
			
		

> "Good morning," she says with a smile. "You know the bow well, warrior. I have seen many of my people use the longbow, but few have the connection you have. The Silver Flame would be proud to count you as one of its faithful." The wizard speaks with a smile firmly in place, a hint of a joke in her voice on the last sentance.



Dragen grunted dismissively.

"I wet some of my first shafts on a young woman from Thrane about your age," the archer began, looking up sadly. "She had blonde hair and didn't have the good sense to sleep in that morning."

"Around this corner she came wearing this green dress, with a bucket to fill from the well," Dragen rubbed his temples with one hand. "...and I put one through her throat and one into her right eye from about the distance you are from me right now." The archer's smile turned both vicious and wry.

"Afterwards I vomited, it's common," he explained. "Then kissed her corpse and thanked her for her gift."

"Maybe her Silver Flame would have provided her some comfort. It certainly didn't protect her that day," he provided as he worked on the other boot.

"I think we killed the rest of her family soon afterwards," the grey-headed archer mused, rubbing his chin. "Who knows for certain about these things? HAH!" he barked.

"There are no gods," he said, gazing directly into the young girl's eyes. "Or if there are gods then they are vicious liars of the worst sort. When men die, they die into nothingness unless _men _remember."

"I comfort myself with by remembering the smell of that dead girl's hair, not with the whispered lies of her divine oppressor. You can count on men, and _*to oblivion with the gods*_," he finished with an almost whispered hiss as he rose to his feet.

"If you'll pardon me, miss," he said politely, "You'll understand there are more important things than souls and more present things than gods. I'm good with this," he indicated his bow, "because I don't allow my conscience to distract me from the purpose of the bend and shaft. I'm no more a priest of the blood than one of your templars, and while I know my mind I don't see a purpose to speak of it most of the time. This, I believe, is the essence of polite company."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll see what sort of wine the galley serves up for breakfast. I've spent more time with demons and the past this morning than I usually do."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 25, 2006)

Doral sighs, puts away his spyglass, and moves into the shadows.  

DM
[sblock]
He casts invisibility on himself, then quietly goes to the dwarves' cabin and listens at the door for signs of life.
[/sblock]


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## Bront (Jul 25, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> [Galley]
> 
> "Oh... well, physical things mostly.  I like to run and climb, I like to watch birds and other creatures, and to talk to them when I can.  I never had the skill for things like this... my hands..." she trails off and takes her hands off of her belt.  Now that they're no longer holding something, there's a faint but perceptible tremble in her hands.  "I guess I owe you something.  You know what I said yesterday, about a babbling brook?  A brook, a small stream of water, makes a gurgling sound when it runs over rocks in its bed.  It sounds a little like a person talking in the distance, so a babbling brook is one that makes some noise.  And a person that babbles like a brook talks a lot, sounding like a running stream.  Does that make sense?"



"I guess I can see the compairison.  That seems odd to be, but I guess it must be common place.  Are sayings like that a shifter cultural thing?  I would think saying that someone talks to much would simply be a faster way to speak" Carver says.


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## Bobitron (Jul 25, 2006)

Glasia listens to Dragen's words in silence, her face drawn and serious. By the time he turns to find whatever libation he desires, a single tear runs down her cheek. As he strides off, she turns a brave face to the wind and stands in contemplation for a long moment.

It doesn't last long, though. Calling Cloudchaser to her arm with a wavering voice, she leaves the morning air for her bunk, lying in bed and crying for a long, long while.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 25, 2006)

[Galley]



			
				Bront said:
			
		

> "I guess I can see the compairison.  That seems odd to be, but I guess it must be common place.  Are sayings like that a shifter cultural thing?  I would think saying that someone talks to much would simply be a faster way to speak" Carver says.



  "A little bit of a shifter thing, and a little bit of a Reacher thing, I think.  We tend to use a lot of comparisons to natural things, now that I think of it.  Clever as a fox, strong as a bear, swift as the wind, things like that," Morika says, her brow furrowed.  _Huh, I'm standing on a wind elemental-powered ship talking to a mechanical man about wordage.  The world is truly a strange place before breakfast..._ she muses.


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## James Heard (Jul 25, 2006)

[Galley]

Dragen enters the ship's galley, his face drawn and even more serious than his norm with a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. Deliberately he strides past his companions and begins to search the area.

_Death and blood_, he thought. _These are the moments that are born from not being properly medicated.

Surely there's a bottle in here *somewhere*?_

"Absolution...where would you hide?" he whispered quietly to no one in particular.

Finally, after either finding resolution to his dilemma or resigned to failure, he slumped down onto one of the bolted down benches of the ship boneless and defeated.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 26, 2006)

Partash finally wakes up as the memories of his quori spirit gives way for the soft morning light. He sits up and tries to forget about his visions. _It's the same thing every time I close my eyes... Your memories will end up driving me mad, Tash..._

He gets up and dresses in his traveling outfit, consisting a leather vest, a white shirt, brown pants and black boots. He wraps his gray cloak around himself and exits the room to catch some fresh air. He is about to walk up the stairs to the deck when he hears the sound of someone crying. He turns about and walks toward the room where the sound is coming from. He puts his ear to the door. _I wonder who it is? It's clearly a woman crying, but Morika doesn't seem to be the type to start crying. It must be that girl... What was her name again? Glasia!_

He knocks on the door softly.

"Excuse me, may I come in? It is me, Parlinor."


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## Ringmereth (Jul 26, 2006)

[sblock=Doral]The beguiler pads softly downstairs towards the guest quarters, and quickly notes his kobold companion sitting outside the dwarves' rooms. Ignoring the reptilian diplomat for a few moments, Doral stops at each door and listens carefully. 

At the first cabin, he presses his ear against the oak door and quickly percieves a muted rhythm of snoring. Moving on to the next room, the half-elf hears a muffled conversation. After a few moments' concentration, he identifies three voices. One, with a deeper voice than the others, appears to be relating some story, gossip, or lecture to his fellows, but the portal is too thick to make out its contents. Continuing to the last doorway, Doral barely detects a faint bustle within; perhaps a dwarf going about his morning routine.[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 26, 2006)

Doral very quietly tests to see if the door that the snoring is coming from is locked.


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## Ringmereth (Jul 27, 2006)

Doral's steady hand twists at the doorknob, but it stops with a faint, flat click after turning only a few degrees--the door is locked. Unsurprisingly, the Kundarak dwarves, blessed with the Mark of Warding, keep security in mind.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Jul 27, 2006)

[Galley]



			
				James Heard said:
			
		

> [Galley]
> 
> Dragen enters the ship's galley, his face drawn and even more serious than his norm with a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. Deliberately he strides past his companions and begins to search the area.
> 
> ...



  "Scorned by a woman?" Morika asks the deflated archer.  "Or just angry there's no food?"  The shifter's stomach growls in emphasis.


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## Ringmereth (Jul 27, 2006)

OOC: I haven't forgotten about those after some breakfast, but I'd rather not accelerate time by an hour or two for half the group while the others are in the middle of a potentially delicate situation.

Also, I'd like to come up with a uniform rule for when to use sblocks and when not to, but it's not an urgent priority--discuss in the OOC thread, if you're so inclined.


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## stonegod (Jul 27, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> Doral's steady hand twists at the doorknob, but it stops with a faint, flat click after turning only a few degrees--the door is locked. Unsurprisingly, the Kundarak dwarves, blessed with the Mark of Warding, keep security in mind.



OOC: Let me know if Vhir hears anything untoward. I am assuming Doral is trying to be stealthy (Move Silently and all), but the kobold has a finite chance of hearing things.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 27, 2006)

DM

[sblock]
Doral takes out his picks and attempts to quietly open the door.  Once inside, he'll see if anyone is conscious.  If not, he'll look for a journal or scroll to quickly read in order to get more information about the dwarven mission.
[/sblock]


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## Ringmereth (Jul 28, 2006)

[sblock=Doral]Doral crouches next to the door and with measured motions twists two picks into the lock. While he slips them past a few tumblers, its workings elude him, and when the would-be infiltrator extracts his picks the lock still bars his entry. Further attempts might be more fruitful.[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 28, 2006)

DM
[sblock]
Resisting the urge to swear, Doral tries again.
[/sblock]


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## Bobitron (Jul 28, 2006)

MadMaxim said:
			
		

> He knocks on the door softly.
> 
> "Excuse me, may I come in? It is me, Parlinor."




Sniffling, Glasia sits upright and wipes her face clean. After a long moment, she makes her way to the door, opening it a crack. "Yes, sir? What can I do for you?"

Once the door is open, she decides she trusts his face and lets him in, sitting on the small bed and preening Cloudchaser nervously.


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## MadMaxim (Jul 29, 2006)

Bobitron said:
			
		

> Sniffling, Glasia sits upright and wipes her face clean. After a long moment, she makes her way to the door, opening it a crack. "Yes, sir? What can I do for you?"
> 
> Once the door is open, she decides she trusts his face and lets him in, sitting on the small bed and preening Cloudchaser nervously.



Partash slowly walks over to Glasia and kneels in front of her to come more face to face with the girl. "I was rather wondering if there was anything I could do for you, Miss? I was just about to get up on the deck when I heard you crying and I thought I'd make sure that you weren't hurt or in some sort of pain. Did anybody do anything to you?"

He looks like he's very concerned about her well-being, looking straight into her eyes, he continues: "But, of course, if your concerns are of a more private nature which you don't want to talk about, that's fine. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. After all, the champions of the Host make sure their companions are alright. You can trust me."


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## Bobitron (Jul 29, 2006)

"Oh, it's nothing." She looks up to his face, puffy eyes betraying her emotion. "It's just that I'm so far from where I was only weeks ago, and I..."

The tears come back, weaker now but still heartfelt. She explains what happened on deck with Dragen.

"What have I gotten myself involved with? Is this the way of things?"


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## Ringmereth (Jul 29, 2006)

[sblock=Doral]A second effort with his finely made lockpicks is successful: Doral spins the mechanism skillfully and is rewarded with a quiet click as he gives his pick a soft twist. Pushing the door open slowly, he pokes his head into the cabin and sees three Kundarak dwarves, asleep on the comfortable beds the ship's passenger quarters boast. The largest of the three is snoring heavily under a thick blanket. Few personal effects are exposed, save a few papers on a small table in the center of the room, accompanied by two thin books and a trio of heavy mugs. Several bags and trunks are stored against the wall to Doral's right.[/sblock]

Vhir's patient vigil is disturbed when the door to his right swings open in a slow, quiet arc. The only sign of life in the room is the sound of snoring; no one appears to have opened the door, which seemed firmly shut only a moment ago.


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## stonegod (Jul 29, 2006)

The kobold nods as if a suspicion was confirmed, and stares intently at the open door for a moment. Its eyes flare a deep red for a moment.

OOC: _Detect magic_ in that general direction, long enough to pinpoint auras on anything he can see from his spot (including moving invisible people ) In addition, he keeps a sharp ear out for any sounds of returning dwarves, with the plan to intercept if needed.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 29, 2006)

DM
[sblock]
Ignoring the trunks and bags, Doral moves immediately to the papers and books.  He scans each paper before quietly putting them down.  Then he flips quickly through the books, looking for anything that may be useful in convincing the dwarven delegation to render them aid.  If Doral finds what he is looking for, he will attempt to memorize the data before placing the documents back where he found them and quietly leave, closing the door behind him.  If Doral fails to locate anything useful, he will scan the room for more documents.
[/sblock]


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## Ringmereth (Jul 30, 2006)

The warlock's detection power picks up the presence of magic within the slice of the room he can see, and further concentration reveals a faint aura moving about the center of the room, and a more vibrant one on the body of a slumbering dwarf whose head is barely visible through the door left ajar by whoever slipped inside. Vhir easily deduces that the aura on the dwarf is one of transmutation.

[sblock=Doral]The beguiler slips inside and begins examining the table's contents with quick judgements and hurried once-overs of each item.

The first paper he picks up is a half-written letter: _My dear Annha,_ it begins, and continues into a personal note which Doral quickly returns to its place. The next document is an expense ledger detailing travel from Kundarakhold into Lhazaar.

His next find, another letter, holds his attention:

_Harmohn,

As you are aware, the Banking Guild has yet to gain a holding in the Lhazaar Principalities, excepting Regalport. Prince Kolberkon of the Direshark Principality has proposed an alliance, and we are in tentative agreement that expanding our operations to the city of Port Verge would be a mutual victory. 

Beyond regular evaluation, Kolberkon has further requested the addition of a senor member of the Warding Guild to your company. To that end, you will meet with Baranak of Dreadhold's security division, who will accompany you. See that he, and by extension, the Prince, recieves any aid he may need rendered.

-Gabart d'Kundarak_

A final piece of paper is covered with scribbled figures and calculations, but without context, it is meaningless to the half-elf. Turning to the books, he finds that one is a simple journal kept by one of the dwarves. Doral turns to a random entry; it describes in dry, clipped sentances a lightning rail journey across the Talenta Plains. The other book is titled _'Valnan's Guide to the Principalities (3rd Ed.)'_[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Jul 30, 2006)

The ridges above the kobold's eyes compress for a moment, most likely a sign of disconcernation. However, it seems content with the other finding, and assured that Doral is doing his job, makes sure the sneak will not be interrupted by keeping an eye down the hall.

OOC: I am assuming the glow is *around* the dwarf, not from an item on the dwarf that he can see. If not, let me know.


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## Ringmereth (Jul 30, 2006)

OOC: Contrary to popular opinion, the supernatural found via _detect magic_ does not _glow_. Nevertheless, I apologize for the lack of clarity: the aura comes from an object the dwarf is wearing, located on his chest. Given Vhir's angle, he can't actually see the item, even if it were glowing.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jul 30, 2006)

DM
[sblock]
After going through the documents, Doral carefully puts everything back the way it was and then quietly leaves the room, closing the door behind him.  He then moves behind the kobold, makes sure the coast is clear, and then becomes visible again.
[/sblock]

Doral appears behind the kobold and motions Vhir to follow him topside.  Once they are out of earshot of anyone, the half-elf says, "The dwarves are very intent on establishing a banking guild, and they are trusting the prince for now, but he is only a means to an end.  Also, these dwarves are not high-ranking enough for the prince to negotiate with them during the evaluation of Port Verge.  Because of this, they are meeting a higher ranking house member named Baranak of Dreadhold security, who will aid in the review of Port Verge's security.  I see two ways we can work from here.  First, we can ask that the dwarves help us return the old man, and in return we can promise their operations will be protected from future Blacksurf operations.  This may appeal to them.  Or you can somehow cause dissension in the ranks of these guild members by playing on dwarven vanity.  How pleased must these dwarves be to have their own abilities questioned and to have to wait for a dwarf from Dreadhold of all places?  Perhaps we can create a situation so volatile that the prince will be distracted from his prisoner.  By the by... when you negotiate with them I would like to be present.  Introduce me as your servant."


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## MadMaxim (Jul 30, 2006)

Bobitron said:
			
		

> "Oh, it's nothing." She looks up to his face, puffy eyes betraying her emotion. "It's just that I'm so far from where I was only weeks ago, and I..."
> 
> The tears come back, weaker now but still heartfelt. She explains what happened on deck with Dragen.
> 
> "What have I gotten myself involved with? Is this the way of things?"



Partash holds his right hand in front of his mouth. He is clearly disgusted by Glasia's story and contempt of Dragen's words shows in the way his eyes narrow. "What a horrifying story he told you, Miss... Mister Dragen surely lacks manners when talking to women. I would be careful in his presence, because he sure seems to have lost some of his sanity." He face changes to into a kinder and milder expression: "Remember, Miss Glasia, that just because one man has lost his faith the rest of us shouldn't do so as well. The divine forces that are at work in this world are as obvious as the arcane ones, so I can't see how he can deny the prescence of deities. Just hold on to your faith when everything else fails. That's what I usually do."

Partash reaches out, raises her chin and looks straight into her eyes: "Don't worry, Miss. I'm sure you'll do just fine and accomplish whatever you set out to do." He stands up and starts walking towards the door. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go have a little talk with our mutual 'friend', Mister Dragen..." Then he tries to locate Dragen and have a little talk with him.


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## Ringmereth (Aug 1, 2006)

Time passes and the ship sails ever onwards as its passengers trade tales, secrets, and plans; before the day begins in earnest the ship's bell rings, summoning crew and passengers to the galley for a breakfast of fresh-baked bread, still warm from the oven, and imported Thranish fruit. The captain, bleary-eyed, wanders into the dining room to filtch an apple. His head swivels to and fro a few times, eyebrows furrowed, and with a bite of the crimson fruit, steps back outside.


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## Bobitron (Aug 1, 2006)

"Parlinor, please, no. Not now," Glasia pleads. "I don't want friction to destroy our group before things even start. I'll just avoid him for a while."


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 1, 2006)

"Ah, breakfast..." Doral thinks to himself as he gives the departing captain a respectful nod.  He decides that it would be best to enjoy the amnemities on the ship while he can.


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## James Heard (Aug 1, 2006)

Finishing his morning repast with a nip of wine won from a sailor amused by the archer's parlor tricks and stories, Dragen finally felt his sense of self returning. After a few days on the accursed vessel, his sea-legs threatened to return to him completely, a notion that wasn't altogether comforting.

_Better to find yourself in the saddle, where falling off just means you're trampled and pretty nurses feed you with a spoon for the rest of your life. _

Shaking off the thought, Dragen drifted from the galley and up onto the deck. After some debating between his desire for solace and his sense of self-preservation, coupled with a keen curiosity, Dragen walked up to the mass of ship-like constructions that made up the superstructure of the ship and began climbing carefully upwards. Perhaps people would leave him alone up here, and maybe he could get a better view of the surrounding waters as well.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 2, 2006)

Bobitron said:
			
		

> "Parlinor, please, no. Not now," Glasia pleads. "I don't want friction to destroy our group before things even start. I'll just avoid him for a while."



Partash looks back over his shoulder at the young lady. "Very well, I'll have that talk with Mister Dragen at another time then, but if he ever behaves so bluntly and rudely around you again, you tell me." He walks to the dining room to have some breakfast.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 4, 2006)

Those members of the passengers and crew who had yet to take their morning meal filtered in to the brightly lit dining room, and sought out a place to sit among their companions.  Though it was a modest crewman’s fare, with large simple baskets of bread and fruit and pitchers of water and thick coffee placed throughout the wooden tables, the food was good and fresh, and satisfied the breakfasters.

To the obvious surprise of many crewmates, the reclusive dwarves all marched officiously in, and room was made for them at a table of their own.  A few of the lay-dwarves looked disgruntled at the light fare, and called for sausage and something proper to drink.  One of the head dwarf’s associates casually pulled a handsomely engraved whiskey flask from his pocket and poured some straight into his coffee.

Very soon they were chatting happily amongst themselves in dwarven, clearly quite comfortable and intent on spending a long and leisurely morning, until their notorious stomachs were completely filled with food and drink.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 4, 2006)

Doral frowns to himself for a moment and wonders where Vhir is.  He listens intently to what is being said at the table if he is near enough to do so.  If he is not, he maneuvers himself to be by clearing his plate and getting up to ask the cook directly for more food.  Afterwards he reseats himself closer to the dwarves, his back to them.


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## stonegod (Aug 4, 2006)

[Galley]

After a while, the kobold enters the galley. However, it is markedly different. It now wears even finer clothes that seem to glimmer slightly, and seems more regal somehow. After pausing at the enterance---perhaps for show, perhaps to look around---it makes its way over to Doral.

In a low whisper, "We shall use the 'security' angle. The release of Gaardasci will improve Port Verge's security, and thus improve the stability of the region. This in turn will benefit profits. Only if the negotiations do not seem to work, shall we go with the 'your partner does not trust you enough' angle."


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 4, 2006)

Doral nods in agreement with Vhir and whispers, "It's your show now.  If they ask, I am your man-servant and guard Doral Higgens.  I am from a small, poor village of human refugees on the border of Darguun and Mournland.  You've helped me with my common, but otherwise I am embarrassed by my lack of language skills and try not to speak to civilized men such as they.  I will stand behind you and slightly to your left."


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## stonegod (Aug 4, 2006)

The kobold nods, and then make his way sedately over to the dwarves. Using his keen eye, he locates the one he thinks to be in charge and approaches him directly. With a slight bow---one made to a superior, but not *that* superior---the kobold begins.

"Master Dwarf, representative of Kundalark interests. I am Master Vhir, negotiator-at-large, currently in the service of the Princes of the Blacksurf Principality. I wish to discuss a matter that has repurcusions for the economic well-being of Port Verge and its surrounds, a matter I believe is of interest to you and your interests. May I begin?"

OOC: Sense Motive to try to determine who wields the power (hunch). Then Diplomacy check. As it is my understanding you do not want to me spell out all the discussion details IC, they are fairly well summed up in my preceding post: The release of Gaardasci will improve Port Verge's security, and thus improve the stability of the region. This in turn will benefit profits. The "Reward" is stablilizing the region for better trade possibilities, the "Risk" is by not assisting, the trade region will be poor. Vhir is wearing his glammerweave outfit for a +1 Dipolomacy modifier.


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## Bront (Aug 5, 2006)

"Parlinor, what's that dwarf over there flavoring his coffee with?  I've only seen people use cream and sugar, though Bim used to also like a bit of nutmeg in his." Carver asks.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 5, 2006)

DM
[sblock]
As the kobold distracts the dwarves, Doral casts _Detect Thoughts_.  He'll concentrate on the dwarven leader through the entire conversation unless another dwarf seems to be in charge.
[/sblock]

Doral moves with the kobold, but stays behind him and to his left, arms to his sides, and head bowed in the manner of a servant.  He stands, listens, and focuses.


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## Bobitron (Aug 6, 2006)

Glasia enters the room and nods her hellos, sitting away from the others and eating in silence. She very deliberabtly avoids Dragen. Listening closely from across the room, she tries to catch the conversation the kobold is initiating with the dwarves. Casting a minor spell, she toys with her plate and silverware with an invisible hand, spinning the tableware in place idly once she finishes. Cloudchaser sits on her shoulder happily, letting out a squalk and shifting from side to side as he watches the spoon and knife with fascination.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 6, 2006)

Morika looks at the dwarves' fare with envy.  Nothing was wrong with fruit, but a meal was never complete unless there was meat.  She had debated going over there and helping herself, that is until Vhir decided to go play "Master of the World."  Breakfast might just be entertaining after all!


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## MadMaxim (Aug 6, 2006)

Bront said:
			
		

> "Parlinor, what's that dwarf over there flavoring his coffee with?  I've only seen people use cream and sugar, though Bim used to also like a bit of nutmeg in his." Carver asks.



"I don't know, Carver. Like you, I'm usually only seeing people flavor their coffee with cream and sugar, but perhaps the dwarves have found some new interesting way of spicing up coffee..." Then he grabs some bread and water and starts eating while keeping an eye out for Dragen. Even though he promised Glasia not to do anything about her unpleasant encounter with him, he still feels rather protective about the young wizard.


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## Ringmereth (Aug 6, 2006)

The most richly-dressed dwarf chews a mouthful of bread for a long moment, narrowing his eyes at the small reptilian addressing him. He swallows; his gaze shifts up towards Vhir's partner, and then he nods to the dwarf seated across from him. "We may speak outside," the head Kundarak official states in a deep voice. The two dwarves stand and proceed out the door and onto the windy open deck, the lesser-ranking one glancing at the three sailors working near the bow.

[sblock=Doral]Focusing his mind-reading spell on the two dwarves reveals that the leader has some degree of cleverness, but his unknown companion's intellect is the superior of the two--though the beguiler notes that neither possesses an intelligence to rival his own. Despite this, the leader's mind subconciously shuts out his attempts to read its surface thoughts. The other dwarf is not so willful.

_The Blacksurf pirates?_ the dwarf wonders as they step outside. _What brings them to hire kobolds? He don't_ look _like a Blacksurf. Those clothes aren't from the Principalities..._[/sblock]

Satisfied with the crew's distance, the well-dressed leader speaks again, standing tall and making sure the puny negotiator is aware of the difference in their heights and bulks. "I am Kinndareck. I represent the Banking Guild's Department of Expansion; my assistant from the Warding Guild is named Baranak. What buisness does the Blacksurf Principalty have with us?" 

[sblock=OOC: On in-character discussion]If I gave the impression that I'd rather skim over conversations, that's not my intention. Dark and I are trying to avoid presumptions in dialogue; i.e. asking an NPC a question and assuming a satisfactory answer will be given, and putting a follow-up question in the same post. It's rather like posting assuming that a character will hit his enemy in combat, and writing that "So-and-so bashes the goblin's forehead with his mace, spraying blood across the dry ground," rather than "So-and-so strikes at the goblin with his mace, swinging for the head."[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Aug 7, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> Satisfied with the crew's distance, the well-dressed leader speaks again, standing tall and making sure the puny negotiator is aware of the difference in their heights and bulks. "I am Kinndareck. I represent the Banking Guild's Department of Expansion; my assistant from the Warding Guild is named Baranak. What buisness does the Blacksurf Principalty have with us?"




"The Principality has hired me as an intermediary---I am an independent negotiator of some skill, and neutral in these proceedings. As I stated, it is a matter of the area's security. Blacksurf and the Direshark Principalities have not been on the best terms, but the Direshark's most recent actions threaten to draw out this so far slight skirmishes into a potentially distasterous full conflict. A conflict, I may add, that would distrupt the potential for stable trade in the region, and thus upset your interests in expanding in this region."

The kobold places folds his hands on his walking staff and looks directly at the dwarf. "To be direct, which I assume you can appreciate, we ask for your assistance in _suggesting_ to the Prince of Port Verge to release Gaardasci of the Blacksurf. In turn, I have under a certain understanding that such an act will facilitate a positive change in relationship between the two Principalities. However, it is my understanding that a lack of Master Gaardasci's freedom would result in serious distruption in trade in the region---something no one wants. While I am here to discuss the Prince's terms with Port Verge's representatives, an assistance on your part would benefit many parties---including those of House Kundalark."

With that, the kobold keeps is intense gaze on the Dwarf.

OOC: Bluff checks and building up to a Diplomacy check as necissary.


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## Bront (Aug 7, 2006)

MadMaxim said:
			
		

> "I don't know, Carver. Like you, I'm usually only seeing people flavor their coffee with cream and sugar, but perhaps the dwarves have found some new interesting way of spicing up coffee..." Then he grabs some bread and water and starts eating while keeping an eye out for Dragen. Even though he promised Glasia not to do anything about her unpleasant encounter with him, he still feels rather protective about the young wizard.



"Maybe I should ask him.  Dwarves are pretty open and tolerant right?" Carver asks.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 7, 2006)

Doral continues to focus on the dwarf with the weaker will.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 7, 2006)

Bront said:
			
		

> "Maybe I should ask him.  Dwarves are pretty open and tolerant right?" Carver asks.



Partash whispers to Carver: "I wouldn't do it right now, Carver. As far as I know, the dwarves are extremely secretive. I think it comes down to them having the Mark of Warding and something like that."


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## Ringmereth (Aug 8, 2006)

Kinndareck raises an eyebrow, and leans to whisper something in dwarven in his compatriot's ear. A reply is whispered in his ear, and he matches the kobold's stare. "Ye tell me that Kolberkon has captured Baron Gaardasci?" He pauses, twisting the edge of his neat beard as he considers his words. "We were not informed that the... scuffling betwixt the Principalities had escalated. What does the Prince hope to gain from holding Gaardasci?"

[sblock=Doral]The beguiler continues to focus on Baranak's surface thoughts.

_"Yes, sir, he is Baron of the Principality. His sons lead pirates against the Diresharks."_ he thinks, speaking the same words to Kinndareck. _He should know. The Department pays him to keep... hmph._ 

When his Banking Guild counterpart speaks, he begins wondering. _Why would---the Prince must want... stability if he persues the Banking Guild's favor. He must think holding Gaardasci will give---force a cease-fire, a treaty._[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 8, 2006)

Doral takes this moment to speak.  In bad common he says, "Sons angry.  Sons crazy angry."  He then allows his cheeks to turn red, as if embarrassed, and falls silent once more.

Meanwhile he continues to focus on the dwarf.


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## stonegod (Aug 8, 2006)

Vhir looks over his shoulder to his companion a moment, then back to the dwarves. "Excuse my assistant. War damaged, unfortunately, but he is a good porter and protection." _And trying to tell me something, no doubt._

"Where was I? Oh, yes. While I have been hired by the Blacksurf Principality, I must in all honesty mention that it is not the Prince's primary choice in action, but one taken under the strong advice of their advisors. While I have not had the pleasure of meeting Baron  Kolberkon, I believe he thought the capture of Baron Gaardasci would force his sons to capitulate. However, in reality it angered them and has given them an opprotunity to sieze all the Blacksurf reins in their eyes. Thus, I believe Baron Kolberkon's plan may backfire. If my negotiations succeed, then Gaardasci should be able to ensure his son's actions---he would not want to be re-incarcerated after all; but, if he remains imprisioned, then his sons actually gain what they want---full license to predate this area."

"In summary, even though they are reluctant, the Blacksurf Prince's have been persuade to allow me this one chance to get their father back. Thus, as I said, it is in your and my best interest to get gain Gaardasci's release."

OOC: Bluff checks as appropriate (as good part of this is fabrication) as Vhir continues his overall diplomacy.


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## Ringmereth (Aug 8, 2006)

[sblock=OOC: Titles]A handy reference to prevent confusion:

*Prince* Kolberkon is the ruler of the Direshark Principality.
*Baron* Gaardasci is the retired, captured symbolic ruler of the Blacksurf Principality.
Hesr'lan and Jedernis are Gaardasci's titleless sons and actual rulers of the Blacksurf Principality.

As a bit of useful out-of-character knowledge, titles in the Principalities vary greatly and are pretty arbitrary. Rulers of the various Principalities go by Captain, Admiral, Baron, and Prince, among others.[/sblock]

Kinndareck nods, digesting the proposal along with his bread and coffee. "A pirate war is poor buisness for the House and Guild," he agrees. "I will bring your concerns to the table when I meet with Prince Kolberkon."

[sblock=Doral]The banker seemed unfazed by the kobold's lies, but Baranak exhibits suspicion. _Addled by the War? I wager--I've seen him before. Yesterday. He looked solid and sharp as any._ Dwarf raises his eyes to the half-elf, his gaze steady, but stays silent.[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Aug 8, 2006)

The kobold appraises the dwarves carefully before responding.

OOC: Sense Motive (hunch) on the bunch to get an idea of their intent---to see the success of the "negotiation" (I.e., if they will really try to talk it up and if Vhir hit is marks).


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 8, 2006)

Doral keeps a straight face, but inwardly scowls at his mistake.  Now he'll have to keep this act up continuously...or at least they are off the ship.  He doesn't savor the thought of playing servant for a couple more days.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 9, 2006)

Vhir considered the dwarves sharply, but alas gathered nothing of their intents from their shrewd eyes and thickly muscled faces, or from their measured businesslike tones.  Before the kobold had a chance to press further, Kinndareck made a small gesture to his associate, Baranak, and then spoke with authoritative gusto:

“Master Vhir, this information you have given us is interesting, and  appreciated.  Now, if you have done all your duty, I would like to return to my breakfast.”

He gave a short, courteous nod, and turned towards the doors that led back down to the galley, clearly hoping to return to his meal in peace.  Baranak lingered for a second more, then followed his superior below deck.

[sblock="Doral"]In his moment’s pause before leaving, the dwarf threw one last glance at Doral. _Well… I will keep watching… maybe these hired negotiators have another side to them.  …Aye, perhaps working with the Guild has finally gotten to me._[/sblock]

The two dwarves strode casually into the galley, and once again took up their seats with their companions.  Some of the crewmembers were starting to return to their work, but a young galley-hand was circling around refilling the pitchers with fresh coffee for those who were staying a while longer.  When he came to the table where a good portion of the travelers sat, he smiled genially.

“On’ly ‘bout eight hours ‘til we arrive in Port Verge!” he said cheerily, a simple piece of small talk. “It’s ah nice town.  Lots ah pretty things teh buy, an’ pretty lasses to buy ‘em for, so th’ saying goes.”   And then he wandered off again, in his simply-minded way.

OOC to All: This plotline is about to be fast-forwarded eight hours, so if you want to do anything in that time, declare it now, folks.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 9, 2006)

Once out of earshot, Doral keeps his head down and whispers sarcastically to Vhir, "What now, _my master_?  To a room, perhaps, so I can tell you what just happened?"

When Vhir leads Doral to his room, Doral informs him, "I'm not used to being noticed, but that dwarf has a sharper memory than I assumed.  He saw partially through my act, so I'll have to play it up to the hilt if we see him in the future, unless it is no longer convenient to maintain the guise.  One of them was thinking that Gaardasci's capture was done in order to bring stability to the region.  I wanted them to think that the situation was now more unstable, and you picked up on my clue brillitantly.  We gave them a lot to think about and this will help keep the dwarves and the prince off balance.  The dwarves are not happy about the capture.  However, I don't think they are quite willing to do anything except pass their concers to the prince.  We still have a lot of work to do if we are going to succeed.  Maybe when we reach port, we can learn where Gaardasci is being held.  I'm going to stay here and out of sight of those dwarves.  Please inform our companions of our situation."


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## stonegod (Aug 9, 2006)

Vhir bows his slight bow again to the dwarves, and allows them to depart without further interruptions.

~~~

[Vhir & Doral's Room]

In their room, Vhir nods to Doral's statement, and neglects to point out that Doral himself is the cause of his 'servitude'. "I will inform the others when the dwarves are back in their quarters. More aggressive work will need to be done once we reach Port Verge, I agree. Almost always does." With that, Vhir makes his way back to the galley for breakfast.

OOC: Vhir will try to track down the group after the dwarves finish breakfast and fill them in tersely. Otherwise, he will continue his puzzles on the deck, pondering the group's next action.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 10, 2006)

The second day at sea passed with little excitement, until those on deck first caught sight of Port Verge nestled between hills and waves on forward horizon.  By early evening, the _Thresher_ had pulled its way out of the choppy open waters and into the sheltered harbor of the city.

The _Thresher_ slipped carefully among the fishing ships and sailboats scattered throughout the harbor.  Those unaccustomed to sailing had grown used to the quiet of the empty sea, and their arrival in the city assailed them noise and bustle.  Everywhere was the ring of voices calling back and forth to one another, and the massive low creaking of thousands of wooden planks in the frigid water.   Seagulls chattered overhead, eternally excited by the water traffic.

The ship’s slow cruising across the harbor towards the Prince’s docks gave everyone on deck a full panorama of Port Verge drifting by.  The whole city was wrapped around the harbor in a cresent shape, its inland edge splashing up the bordering hills.  Despite the cold wind, Port Verge itself looked warm, a gathering of wooden buildings and worn reddish brick streets.

Immediately before them was the thin strip of wharves and storehouses and shipyards that serviced the local and traveling vessels.  With these naturally came the cheap inns and taverns that served the sailors aboard those vessels.  There may have seemed to be an inordinate amount of grimy pubs, but they stood as a testament to the city’s history with piracy.

Just inland of these establishments was the southern side of town in which the majority of the citizens of Port Verge resided.  It was not the most scenic of places, but looked well lived-in.  The tightly-packed clutter of houses and shops were dotted with the occasional small herb garden or laundry line, and barking dogs could be heard throughout the dusty packed-dirt streets.

As the _Thresher_ sailed closer to the northern end of the crescent, the streets became steadily more orderly, and the buildings were composed of more and more brick.  The commoners’ housing faded into middle class residences, and eventually gave way to a bustling commercial center with broad streets and rows of shops with large glass windows.  Up on the hill above the commercial district sat Prince Kolberkon’s estate, his old-fashioned grey stone manor house and other personal and official buildings encircled by the somewhat lesser mansions of wealthy neighbors.

The ships too were getting nicer; now they were passing more anchored trade ships than local fishing boats.  Their cruise past the city led them even beyond these, to the far northern end of the harbor to a private sectioned-off marina for the Prince’s royal fleet.  It was in fine neighborhood, with well-maintained wooden shops and inns right at the waterfront, and many flowerboxes lighting the dark brick streets.

The elemental galleon swung boastfully into the royal marina, and maneuvered easily into position alongside a tall dock.  The crew began to hastily tie her to the pier, and at the stern the captain soothed the elemental into a peaceful sleep until it was time to sail again.  As soon as they had successfully docked in Port Verge, the gangplank was lowered and the dwarves’ luggage began to be carried off.  The dwarves themselves gathered on deck, observing the city and thanking the captain for his services.


[sblock="Exerience Points for All"]Now that the first step of the journey has been completed, it seems an appropriate time to award to XP.  We’ll give you XP not only for killing foes and completing quests, but also award you with bonus XP for exceptional roleplaying and other acts.

First, everyone deserves some for their cooperative roleplaying and character development.  You guys all did great job with this voyage, especially with the banter between yourselves.

Dragen is also to be recognized for his intriguing monologue, and Doral and Vhir both for their leadership and negotiations, which really helped in pulling the group together.

We'll keep track of your actual point tallies, and tell you when you're ready to level. Until then, keep it up, everyone, and welcome to Port Verge.[/sblock]


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 10, 2006)

"Ah..." Morika says with a deep breath, "Now this looks like a kind of place I could probably get into some delightful trouble.  Where's our fearless leader?" she asks, looking around for Vhir, a heavy touch of sarcasm in her tone.


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## stonegod (Aug 10, 2006)

Noticing the arrival at Port Verge, the kobold stands and observes their destination. Hearing Morika's comment, a sneer appears on its face, and it comments, "Those lead who are capable of it." Its sudden seeming annoyance passed, the kobold continues. "We must gather the others and find some place to stay. Someplace worthy; 'negotiators' would not be found amongst society's derelicts. Then we will get a lay of the land." With that, he sets about rousing the others.


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## James Heard (Aug 10, 2006)

Towering uncharacteristically over the both of them, Dragen noted the commentary between Morika and the reptile and picked at the worn rags surrounding his bow.

"It's a good thing we're not negotiators then, or have you hung us upon your words to match the prettiness of your undergarments?" he asked quietly, his eyes tracing the finework on his bow and upwards.

"Collect the target, kill everyone who tries to stop us, set some fires to give people other things to worry about other than us, kill some more, drink beer, drink some more, and wait for the next job."

He pursed his lips and flicked a surprisingly manicured nail at an imagined speck of dirt, raising an eyebrow and chewing at some imaginary confection.

"Things are simpler when you don't try to pretend you are anything other than what you are, and I," he looked down at the kobold, "am a killer. I am death's best friend, and when I whisper to him he listens to me."

"Something to think about."

With that comment, Dragen picks up his small amount of belongings and pushes his way quietly through the cargo handlers to wait for the rest to exit the ship.

_Land._ The thought came out like a prayer.


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## stonegod (Aug 10, 2006)

The kobold hardly listens to the bowman's tirade; it had already dismissed him based upon their earlier discussion. _Not one to follow. Will need to find a target for that one._ Outloud, as the human leaves, the kobold states, "It is not time of the Dragon Below to enter into this. Time enough for the One Between to get its work done. Slaughter and madness will follow if needed, but only if needed. Tonight we hear and see."


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## James Heard (Aug 10, 2006)

_Next thing you know,_ Dragen thought, _a monkey will stand upright and decide to preach at me on the basis of the value of its petticoats._

Leaning on compliant and quiet cargo containers, Dragen stilled his face and watched imaginary arrows pluck themselves and punge deeply into the throats and eyes of the people around him.

_For one so short, I imagine he mostly sees and hears people's behinds. _Dragen let loose a chuckle the likes of which made those around him nervous and look over their shoulders.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 10, 2006)

Doral will keep a look out for the dwarves and maintain his act until he is confident they are gone.  Keeping with the group as they look for a place to stay, he decides to make an attempt at softening the mood, "Just curious, bowman, but have you ever met anyone who could outshoot you?  You seem almost one with your weapon."


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## James Heard (Aug 10, 2006)

Dragen considered the question and shrugged indifferently.

"But which is the weapon?" he said, and his eyes were like steel orbs staring down the dawn. "And which is the tool?"

_There's probably a bar somewhere around here open even at this hour, with pretty girls, sour beer and a fight to be had. I hope he isn't going to get sweet on me. If I got blood on me this early I'd be all day getting it out properly. Maybe I should strangle him? Except some men vomit when they're being strangled..._

The archer frowned, deep in thought.

_I'd probably have to go along with it, then kill him later. Blame the kobold, kill the kobold, rescue the prisoner, and then bed the girl before killing her and the rest._

_Careful there, Dragen._ He sighed. _Old habits die hard, don't they?_

"I'm sure it's not important."


----------



## stonegod (Aug 10, 2006)

"Doral, leave the bowman alone. His time will come. Your skills are needed to listen and gather what you can about the Prince and our quarry. That will let us know what is needed next---more words or madness. Maybe both."


----------



## Deuce Traveler (Aug 10, 2006)

"Nonsense.  Everyone's talents here are important," Doral says encouragingly.  The tense atmosphere seems to subside, and Doral silently congratulates himself.  That Dragen guy isn't so bad once you give him some respect.


----------



## Ringmereth (Aug 10, 2006)

The dwarves begin to file off the ship, but one of Kinndareck's aides, a dark-haired dwarf with a thin scar upon his cheek, departs from the procession and with slow strides approaches the kobold. "Kinndareck has told me that he will bring your concerns to the Prince tonight. My name is Bourstrart, and I will provide you and your... fellows with any news on the subject. I assume I may find you in one of the town's inns?" he asks.


----------



## stonegod (Aug 11, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> The dwarves begin to file off the ship, but one of Kinndareck's aides, a dark-haired dwarf with a thin scar upon his cheek, departs from the procession and with slow strides approaches the kobold. "Kinndareck has told me that he will bring your concerns to the Prince tonight. My name is Bourstrart, and I will provide you and your... fellows with any news on the subject. I assume I may find you in one of the town's inns?" he asks.



The kobold nods. "Tell your associates we appreciate their assistance. Yes, we will be staying at one of the inns; unfortunately, we were unable to make arrangements in advance. A message to Master Vhir will find its way to me. Good day." With that, the kobold nods.

Rejoining the others. Making sure the dwarves are not watching or listening, we points out, "The lure has been baited. We wait to see if we get a catch. Now, for an inn." The kobold directs his gaze to the warforged. "Carver. An inn, preferably one better off by humanoid standards. Our guise must be maintained. If any of you wish to find alternative lodging or entertainment"---the kobold does look at anyone, but the implication is there---"please inform me so I am away of your location and can coordinate. Madness may still be coming."


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## James Heard (Aug 11, 2006)

_What a pompous little ass._ Dragen thought. _I wonder how many rocks he has to swallow to keep himself from floating off the ground with hot air and high opinions of himself._

_I imagine hiring an assassin for a kobold would be cheaper than hiring one for a _*real *_ person. _


----------



## MadMaxim (Aug 11, 2006)

Partash ignores the banter of Vhir and Dragen, though he quite obviously keeps an eye on the bowman. He still hasn't forgotten what Glasia told him and Dragen's words only confirm his suspicions.

_If this man was aware of the grander scheme of things he might not be so simple-minded in his approach. He may be the Keeper's best friend, but death can just as well turn on him and claim his immortal soul for itself. There are far greater things at stake than his happiness. In my mind, he's obviously the tool and the Dragon Below has taken control of his mind and made him do its bidding. If I ever see him harm innocents I'll make him regret the day his mother gave birth to him..._

Partash clears his mind before walking over to Vhir: "I'd like to say that I'll be staying with the rest of you. I'm sure we'll find adequate lodging."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 11, 2006)

Morika found the archer delightful... much in the way that landing face-first in a thornbush was delightful.  His death-soaked monologues reminded her too much of the battle-weary soldiers she defended her villages from during the war.  "You're war-crazy archer, but you knew that already.  Go get drunk and break a few faces, you'll be in a better mood and I'll feel less like shoving you in the harbor.  As for now, I want some meat to eat and a plan that doesn't involve me having to sit behind like a good little girl.  It'll be doomed to failure anyway."


----------



## Ringmereth (Aug 11, 2006)

With the subject turning to accomodations for the night, the group surveys the town and sees, amidst myriad taverns and warehouses of varying age and condition, what appears to be a three-story manor house, built of brick and dark wooden planks. It lies north of the _Thresher_, a block removed from the bustle of the docks, and Carver immediately recognizes it as the Sail and Scepter, the finest of Port Verge's inns. The warforged also remembers another place to stay in the town, the Argotch Inn, owned by an old goblin sailor. Looking south along the seafront, he spots the sprawling place, a pair of old homes linked and expanded by haphazard new construction. Adjacent to it is the Shark Tank Tavern, a rowdy bar marked by the set of toothy jaws suspended over the entry.


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## stonegod (Aug 11, 2006)

The kobold indicates the large brick building with his fine walking stick. "I will secure quarters there; it is where the dwarves would expect me. Palinor, all, you may join me there as you wish, though any rowdier acitivity will mostly like have to be confined to the Shark Tank. Doral, when you try to gather information, but the Sail and Scepter and that 'tavern' on the other side of town would be good targets."

With that, the kobold makes his way to the Sail and Scepter to inquire about rooms.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 11, 2006)

Nodding in agreement, Doral heads towards the Argotch Inn.  "Hmmm... I think this is the type of place where a man might ask around and find out where a certain prince might lock away his political enemies.  The folk here will not be too rich, and not too rough, and will likely be sailors.  Anyone want to come with?


----------



## MadMaxim (Aug 11, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> Nodding in agreement, Doral heads towards the Argotch Inn.  "Hmmm... I think this is the type of place where a man might ask around and find out where a certain prince might lock away his political enemies.  The folk here will not be too rich, and not too rough, and will likely be sailors.  Anyone want to come with?



"Safety in numbers. Though I don't believe anyone around these parts would strike down a priest of the Host, some of the less law-abiding elements of this place might only care how many coins I have in my pockets." Partash follows Doral to Argotch Inn.


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## Bobitron (Aug 12, 2006)

Glasia is clearly uncomfortable standing about and listening to Dragen's responses. _I know what you are,_ she thinks, _and I know what you think as you look at him,_ noting his eyes lingering on the kobold.

Walking briskly and taking the lead toward the brick building that had been pointed out as the group's lodgings, Glasia sends Cloudchaser high into the air for a few minutes of freedom before they go inside. She seems willing to leave the gather of information to others, sticking with Vhir.


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## Ringmereth (Aug 12, 2006)

OOC: I know Bront's at GenCon, but before the party splits up I'd like to know who's in each group, and still need word on which inn Morika and Dragen are going to.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 12, 2006)

"Thank you, Partash.  Safety in numbers indeed," Doral says in appreciation as they head on.

OOC: Ok.


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## James Heard (Aug 12, 2006)

Watching the group slowly split up into their respective elements, Dragen considered both on their merits. 

_Someone needs to keep an eye on our little scaley pimp and make sure he doesn't sell us out, _ he thought and then let his eyes wander to the young girl headed toward the inn, _besides, she'll need someone to protect her if she's hanging out with the wolves instead of the rats._

Dragen sighs and picks up his things, mentally counting the cost in coins of his small affection.

_Fire and weakness_, Dragen thought,_ you've probably got bastards at home older than her. 

Is that what it is? Have you finally gotten so old as to become fatherly?_

His eyes tracked toward the kobold.

_No,_ he decided_, it's better to sleep with the snakes than to be preyed on by them._

He smiled wryly.

_Besides, what's the worst that could happen? You miss a drink or two...How hard could that be?_

And with that, something pale and bleak passed behind his eyes, all mirth forgotten.


----------



## MadMaxim (Aug 14, 2006)

OOC: When they enter the Argotch Inn, Partash will try not to draw too much attention to himself and let Doral do the inquiring.


----------



## Deuce Traveler (Aug 14, 2006)

Doral talks for a moment with his fellow party member as they walk.  "Parlinor, you seem an honest fellow, and that can be helpful when we go talk to these people.  Tell me about yourself.  Where are you from?  What was your trade before you came to this life?"


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 14, 2006)

"Argotch looks like a cozy enough place to den, but I'm going to the Shark Tank to drink later," Morika opins, stalking along behind the others.  She just wants a safe-ish place to leave her things, and then to get to a place where the social manners are more her speed.


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## stonegod (Aug 15, 2006)

As the others separated, the kobold arched the skin over one of its eye again, noting that Dragen had decided to stay. It looks between the girl and the archer a moment, then turns and begins to the Sail and Scepter.


----------



## MadMaxim (Aug 15, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> Doral talks for a moment with his fellow party member as they walk.  "Partash, you seem an honest fellow, and that can be helpful when we go talk to these people.  Tell me about yourself.  Where are you from?  What was your trade before you came to this life?"




Partash turns to Doral. _I had better not give him too much information about me. Who knows whether he's working for the Dreaming Dark or not._ He wraps his gray cloak tighter around his slight frame to shield it from the wind.

"Well, I grew up in the great city of Sharn and was taught the greatness of the divine by the priests of the Sovereign Host. Now, I act as more of a field agent for them, obtaining information on sacred relics far and wide, so I'm actually just doing what I've always been doing. However, this is very much the most far-away place I've been to. Usually, I travel within the borders of the Five Nations. What about you, Doral, have you always been working out diplomatic affairs?"

OOC: Partash is still going by the name of Parlinor Tashlov even though I describe his actions using his real name.


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## Ringmereth (Aug 15, 2006)

OOC: Carver will accompany Vhir, Dragen, and Glasia.

Intent on learning more about the town, Doral leads his two companions towards the Argotch Inn. Walking down the crowded and aptly named Dock Street, the trio dodges crews unloading their goods into rickety wagons and ill-sorted piles next to street preformers, juggling knives and strumming mandolins, trying to earn a hatful of coppers to buy their dinner. In spite of the bustle, the brick street is surprisingly clean and free of debris and litter. To their left, they take in the wide variety of vessels harbored in Port Verge: caravels and longships, gnomish vessels hailing from Zilargo and beyond, and even swift Lyrandar ships built from rare soarwood. On the inland side, they are presented with a closer look at the bars and storehouses they passed on the _Thresher's_ approach to its wharf.

As they enter the Inn, a one-sided shouting match assails their ears. "Ooh, I toss your scrawny carcass on the dockside if that happen again, you clumsy stinking man!" screams a bald goblin at a visibly frightened young human servant twice his height. "You be glad--" 

The berating stops abruptly when the suit-clad, yellow-skinned humanoid notices his new guests. "Well, take their bags!" he hisses to his employee, then approaches Doral, Partash, and Morika with a wide smile on his face. "Welcome to the Argotch Inn, the finest-value rooms in all Port Verge!" he exclaims, lowering his squeaky voice marginally and standing tall--by goblin standards, at least. "What may I do for you fine travelers this day?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, two humans, a kobold, and a warforged arrive at their destination, judging by the sign suspended over the oak double doors: an image of a tall mast suspending one large triangular sail, magically fluttering against its wooden backdrop, upon which is painted a glittering rod of silver set with saphires. It, too, glitters with the aid of some minor enchantment. 

The district that surrounds them is a drastically different place than the seafront. Unlike the bustling Dock Street, the northern end of Port Verge seems almost deserted. A few servants and well-dressed merchants roam the streets quietly, and a spear-wielding sentinel stands on each corner. 

The inside of the inn is a comfortable contrast to the sea town; the fine paintings, hardwood floors and furniture, and smartly uniformed doormen could be part of any respectable establishment in the Five Nations. A tall bellman steps forward and greets them. "Welcome to the Sail and Scepter, my lords," He extends an hand to take any luggage thrust his way. "What lodgings would your party prefer tonight? We can offer rooms for one, two, and three occupants. Additionally, the eastern suite is currently unoccupied, should you be interested in our luxury offering," explains the servant, his accent identifying him as a native of Breland, not the Principalities.


----------



## Deuce Traveler (Aug 15, 2006)

Disregard.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 15, 2006)

Doral nods to Partash and says, "I wouldn't call it diplomacy, but you can say that Doral Sloans was involved in the question of the peace in his home of Vathirond.  It's a border settlement, so there was something always stirring there... or was easy enough to get stirring.  Very exciting stuff for a man who prefers the quieter life.  And I try not to travel too much, myself, but you know how that can work out for you.  Sometimes you wonder how you got to where you are.  I'm just glad to work with the companions I'm matched with this time around."

As he approaches the inn and sees the goblin his mood and manner changes to a haughty demeanor, "Well, hmph... my name is Doral Gristen and this is my friend, Parlinor Tashlov.  By the looks of things here, maybe we would find better service at the Sail and Sceptre."  His demeanor changes once more to a friendlier face and he laughs, his voice changing to an accent more suitable for the sailing and mercenary set, "Ha!  Just joshing ye!  My buddy here and me, we've heard this joint has the best ale and crowd in Port Verge.  We'll take a room each, and a look at what ye've got in your kegs!"


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 15, 2006)

Morika rolls her eyes as the forgettable half-elf gets cute in bargaining for rooms.  She waits behind the two, picking her nails with a dagger point, watching the diminuative goblin with some interest.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 15, 2006)

Doral notices Morika and thinks fast, "And this is Morika.  She's with us, also.  Trusty with a blade and all that rot."


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## stonegod (Aug 15, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> A tall bellman steps forward and greets them. "Welcome to the Sail and Scepter, my lords," He extends an hand to take any luggage thrust his way. "What lodgings would your party prefer tonight? We can offer rooms for one, two, and three occupants. Additionally, the eastern suite is currently unoccupied, should you be interested in our luxury offering," explains the servant, his accent identifying him as a native of Breland, not the Principalities.



The kobold places his hands on his walking stick and addresses the bellman. "The suite shall be sufficient. When shall dinner be served, and will that be served en suite or in the dining hall? In addition, I may be receiving a message while here, so any messages to 'Master Vhir' should be delivered post haste." A calculating look comes over the kobold's features ever so briefly. "Oh, and Master Dragen shall surely wish to partake in some of Port Verge's brewmaster's best. Please let him know where it is best to do so."


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## MadMaxim (Aug 15, 2006)

Partash looks at the "tall" goblin, makes a little gesture and smiles: "May the Host bless your humble establisment, Sir."


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## Bront (Aug 15, 2006)

"Luxury offerings? Wow.  Does that mean there's a well stocked workroom there?  I have a few projects I want to get started on, and that would be just wonderful.  I should go out and get a few needed materials.  Unless materials are included in the room.   Wow, that would be true luxury then, wouldn't it?  So, maybe I should check out the room first before I go shoping.  Can I have my own key?" chimes Carver, and excited glow in his eyes.

OOC: He'll be looking to get that Haversack started now that he has XP.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 15, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> Doral notices Morika and thinks fast, "And this is Morika.  She's with us, also.  Trusty with a blade and all that rot."



  Morika actually snorts at that.  She has a club at her side and a spear leaning against the wall, a sickle in her belt and a small dagger in her hand.  _Handy with a blade indeed.  He's never seen me even *use* a blade.  More words than brains, that one,_ she thinks scornfully.

"Definitely the kegs, the dwarfs drank all the good stuff on the way here.  And there better be some meat in there to eat, there was too much bread and fruit on the ship.  I felt like a rabbit!" Morika says, half to herself, examining her hands to make sure her claws are in top working order before sheathing her dagger.


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## James Heard (Aug 16, 2006)

Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir

Dragen nodded pleasantly with a serene and arched smile on his face.

"And do, if you would please, see to it if you find any live mice" Dragen commented, "send them to 'Master" Vhir's room. So far from his homeland, no doubt 'm'lord' Vhir would appreciate some food that recommends to him more of the fare common in the caves."

A rumbling occured from Dragen's midsection, as Dragen continued quickly to forestall commentary.

"As for myself," Dragen said stiffly, "there are dangerous and evil tidings about. If you would please, I might like a bit of cabbage soup and milk with my dinner."

"It would seem that sea travel has not agreed with me."


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## stonegod (Aug 16, 2006)

[Sail and Scepter: Carver, Dragen, Glasia, and Vhir]



			
				James Heard said:
			
		

> Dragen nodded pleasantly with a serene and arched smile on his face.
> 
> "And do, if you would please, see to it if you find any live mice" Dragen commented, "send them to 'Master" Vhir's room. So far from his homeland, no doubt 'm'lord' Vhir would appreciate some food that recommends to him more of the fare common in the caves."



The kobold's eyes narrowed for a moment, something unpleasant dancing on their surface a moment. But it said nothing, and waited for the busboy to lead them away.


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## Bront (Aug 16, 2006)

Carver seems confused.  "Are you sure Dragen?  I've not seen Vhir consume anything live yet, and there were plenty of mice on the ship.  I even named one, Squeeks.  He liked the little crumbs in the galley that were left after cleanup.  I made this carving of him too," The 'forged pulls out a carving of a good sized mouse.  "I guess if it reminds you of home Vhir, you're welcome to have it."


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## stonegod (Aug 16, 2006)

[Sail and Scepter: Carver, Dragen, Glasia, and Vhir]


			
				Bront said:
			
		

> "I guess if it reminds you of home Vhir, you're welcome to have it."



"'Home' is a Tower in Upper Menthis, not a hole in the earth, construct. It is best if you drop the subject. Master Dragen's humor is dark, and too easily exploited by your naivete."


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## James Heard (Aug 16, 2006)

Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir

"Sometimes creatures with shameful habits might wish to hide them from others, metal man," Dragen responds rigidly. "They pretend to be something they are not, so that people might see them as something else than what they are."

"I know that some people respond poorly to who I am. But I make no excuses for what I am, nor will I make myself seem to be as something other than that which life has placed me on the path to be. You seem to be without deception, so perhaps you do not understand, but things which bleed are based upon the same cast as the lies of gods. It is good you lack this, but poor that you even possess the capacity to learn it."

Dragen's stomach rumbles some more.

"Forgive me, leaving ship is almost as unpleasant as getting on one. My stomach would wish only that I choose one or the other, land or sea, and favor it perpetually."

Dragen pauses, and looks down upon the sculpture as if noticing it finally.

"It would be better if you had killed the rat. Not only do vermin spread diseases and sneak into the cribs of children at night to steal their breath sometimes; but they also attract larger, more dangerous predators by their presence. That is to say, vermin often believe themselves to be more clever, being small and insignificant, than they really are. You let them eat from your table thinking that they are of no mind, and then a a near-sighted hawk swoops down to carry off a lamb."

Suddenly distant, Dragen continues the thought seemingly without care for the rest of the group.

"Always, always better - to be the hawk rather than the mouse, the wolf better than the lamb -" Dragen shakes his head and looks Carver.

"That's a very nice sculpture. Perhaps you'd be better off continuing your conversations with the young lady, talking with me sometimes washes blood onto young hands to their detriment."


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## Ringmereth (Aug 16, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Doral, Morika, Partash*

The goblin laughs, perhaps trying to put his guests at ease, but the shrill sound is more irksome than friendly. "Yes, three rooms for you, right away!" he replies, trotting back to his desk. Climbing onto a chair nearly his own height, he examines his ledger. "Rooms 23, 24, and 25, on second floor. Twelve silver each," he tells Doral, handing him three worn keys. "Best ale is next door at the Shark Tank. Through that door," the goblin adds, pointing to a side enterance on his left. "You can buy dinner there, too. Cod on menu tonight."

- - - - - - - - - -
*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*

His face politely blank, the servant waits patiently through the exchange between the hotel's patrons. "Right this way, sirs and madam," he says when Dragen gets his final word and a moment of silence passes, leading the four to the main desk. "Meals will be brought to your rooms if you wish; a very good turkey dinner is being prepared as we speak, and I shall request an order of cabbage soup from our chef." The Brelish bellman relays the group's choice of accomodations to the man at the desk, and, having recieved no luggage, turns on his heel and disappears through a door to the side of the enterance lobby.

The portly clerk, pale-skinned with neatly trimmed blonde hair, scribbles something into his ledger with quill and ink. "The suite's rate is 15 gold pieces per night, including meals," he informs the group, reaching for a set of glimmering keys behind the counter. "If you have no further questions I can address, I shall show you to your quarters."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 16, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Doral, Morika, Partash*

"Good enough then," Morika says, carefully digging into her belt pouch for the money, then handing it over.  "Come on, I need a drink in the worst way," she quips to the others.  Once her belongings are locked (and somewhat hidden) in her room, she's off to the Shark Tank for dinner and drinks.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 16, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Doral, Morika, Partash*

Doral pays the goblin, puts his equipment away, and waits for his companions before entering the Shark Tank.  He decides to use Morika's exuberance to set the mood, following her in with a smile on his face and a look to the available drinks.  "Ho bartender!  What ye got to drink for three tired blokes!"

_Find a bunch of braggarts, swap tall tales, and find out if they know about a kidnapping or capture,"_ Doral thinks to himself.


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## stonegod (Aug 16, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*


			
				Ringmereth said:
			
		

> The portly clerk, pale-skinned with neatly trimmed blonde hair, scribbles something into his ledger with quill and ink. "The suite's rate is 15 gold pieces per night, including meals," he informs the group, reaching for a set of glimmering keys behind the counter. "If you have no further questions I can address, I shall show you to your quarters."



The kobold pays the fee is necissary, and takes a key. It also reiterates that it is waiting for a message and to deliver it as soon as it comes. It then continues, "I shall take dinner in the main dining room when available. And I would appreciate any recent copies of the _Chronicles_."

The kobold begins to walk aside to wait to be lead to their quaters when it stops a moment besides the bowmen. While not looking directly at the Karranth, its voice is pitched just loud enough for him to hear. "If you wish to do something _useful_ besides discussing matters of which you know little, you may consider taking a walk and observing the local defenses."


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## Bront (Aug 16, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*


			
				stonegod said:
			
		

> [Sail and Scepter: Carver, Dragen, Glasia, and Vhir]
> 
> "'Home' is a Tower in Upper Menthis, not a hole in the earth, construct. It is best if you drop the subject. Master Dragen's humor is dark, and too easily exploited by your naivete."



"Well, I can always carve a Tower if you would rather have that to remind you of home.  I'm sorry, but I realy have not met many Kobolds, or at least ones that bothered to talk to me." Carver says.


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## Bront (Aug 16, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*


			
				James Heard said:
			
		

> "Always, always better - to be the hawk rather than the mouse, the wolf better than the lamb -" Dragen shakes his head and looks Carver.
> 
> "That's a very nice sculpture. Perhaps you'd be better off continuing your conversations with the young lady, talking with me sometimes washes blood onto young hands to their detriment."



"I think you are mistaken about me Dragen, for I don't need to eat, so why would I want to be a preditor?  And I'm not young, I'm almost a year old!" Carver insists with pride as he tucks the mouse carving away.


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## James Heard (Aug 16, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*


			
				stonegod said:
			
		

> The kobold begins to walk aside to wait to be lead to their quaters when it stops a moment besides the bowmen. While not looking directly at the Karranth, its voice is pitched just loud enough for him to hear. "If you wish to do something _useful_ besides discussing matters of which you know little, you may consider taking a walk and observing the local defenses."



"Ah, but you see...creature...you mistake _yourself_. I've had a bellyfull in my time of orders from bastards who think they're better than others arbitrarily, who base their whole lives off of lies, and those who follow those lies. I'm sure if Galifar had decided to make you king that he would have made a note of it. Until then though, I'm my own man and I'll do my best to keep my companions from the folly of trailing on upon the whispers of such as yourself."

"Take a walk? Indeed," Dragen continues," whatever else happens here, my job is to watch _you_ and make sure that when the moment comes of your duplicity and betrayal I'm ready with something sharp to end it."

Dragen smiled, almost primly.

"But just think," Dragen's smile becomes even wider, "The more you deny the rumors that contain the truth, the more your stack of lies unfolds. And then, when it comes crashing down? Then the resolution of our task occurs without duplicity. Maybe if I just took a walk and told certain people who you _really _were? Or what your true task might be? What hole do you think you would have to hide and escape from then? Which fancy lie would make that better?" Dragen harrumphs.

"For someone basing your whole strategy upon a falsehood," Dragen continues, "you seem particularly incapable of assuming them yourself. Beneath your sneering maw, you are _nothing_. Nothing but words and falsehoods...And creature, I've taken orders from true phantoms before. Even _they _were more substantial and worthy."



			
				Bront said:
			
		

> "I think you are mistaken about me Dragen, for I don't need to eat, so why would I want to be a predator? And I'm not young, I'm almost a year old!" Carver insists with pride as he tucks the mouse carving away.




"Friend, this bow is many hundreds of years old, and I still learn much from it each day. As for the other, predation is more than consumption. The world is twisted into a knot of the gods of kill and be killed. And you, my friend, don't possess the means to thwart it, I'm afraid." Dragen said sadly.


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## stonegod (Aug 16, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*

The kobold  listens to the raving of the bowman in silence. If it was upset, it controlled it better this time---no sign was shown. Instead, it just smiled with a mouth full or sharp teeth and said, still keeping its voice low, "If watch you must, then watch you shall. I shall be deviously eating dinner and sinisterly reading the latest news." With that, it left the bowman's side in search of some reading material and dinner.


----------



## Bobitron (Aug 17, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*

Glasia breaks her silence as the kobold walks away, stepping forward with a look of fury on her face as the archer finishes his latest diatribe. "You are a cad. You speak without caring for the feelings of others. You talk of private experiences and things best left in your own thoughts just to provoke reaction for those around you. I feel as though I should speak to one would a spiteful and cruel child. Keep your thoughts to yourself. If you wish to portray an attitude of unhelpfulness and cruel uncaring, do so by brooding in silence with your face buried in a cup."

She gestures to the retreating kobold. "Vhir has done nothing to provoke your venom, and yet you call him a follower of lies and one who thinks himself better than the rest for arbitrary reasons. He has taken the initiative to lead where others have not. If you wish to lead, do so by proving you can interact with the rest of us in a civil and reasonable manner. Otherwise, I think I speak for us all when I say I'd rather not hear your voice again. Nobody care to hear your input unless it is constructive or well-mannered."  

For a moment, it looks as though her hand would fly toward his face in a slap, but she instead turns and storms off after the kobold.


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## James Heard (Aug 17, 2006)

Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen

"I imagine the dogs were not ill-concerned when they lost that one to walking upright." Dragen laughed as the young girl left in her hissy fit.

_One gesture, and her eyes would merely stare upwards at her uncaring god forever._ Dragen sneered. _Why do I bother? I think it's time to consider my other options. If "fit company" includes monsters and imbecilic children then perhaps I'd do well to find out whether or not the opposition are Men._

Dragen turned his thoughts in amusement.

_"Attitude"! "Portray"! Hah! Those #$%'s from Thrane really _*are*_ stupid._

Dragen considered the warforged beside him.

_And perhaps now the construct shall decide to turn on me?_ Dragen laughed out loud, and narrowed his eyes. _Ah, you try to run from who you are, Dragen, but who you are follows you. Why fight the wolf inside, if people think to treat you like a dog still?_


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## MadMaxim (Aug 17, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Doral, Morika, Partash*

Partash hands the goblin the 12 silver pieces and asks Doral for his key before walking to his room and locking his equipment away. Then he walks down to the Shark Tank to have a talk with Doral.

_I wonder what other plans Vhir and Doral have for aquiring the information we need to free target? Well, he's not the only one to play the game of secrecy. We've been participants in spy games before, haven't we, Tash...?_


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## Bront (Aug 17, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (early evening) - Carver, Dragen, Glasia, Vhir*


			
				James Heard said:
			
		

> Dragen considered the warforged beside him.
> 
> _And perhaps now the construct shall decide to turn on me?_ Dragen laughed out loud, and narrowed his eyes. _Ah, you try to run from who you are, Dragen, but who you are follows you. Why fight the wolf inside, if people think to treat you like a dog still?_



"Did I offend them? Or did she mean you?  Was what you said hurtful?" Carver asks, confused.  He shrugs, not waiting for an answer as he scurries off to follow Glasia.


----------



## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 17, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (early evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

After securing their belongings in their rooms—small and simple, with one window and bare floors, a wooden table and two chairs, a double bed dressed in worn but warm blankets, a standard lockable chest, and a tiny woodstove in the corner—the trio headed down to the tavern.

While it was not empty, it wasn’t a roaring hub of drunken activity this early in the night.  Nevertheless, the ale was good, and what patrons that were there were willing drinking company.  A few had tougher airs about them, but they mostly preferred to display their prowess by playing heavy drinking games.

Small talk and jokes seemed to be the order of the evening, and no one there was particularly interested in talking about work or anything dark and heavy.  Though most of Doral’s efforts to gather any information seemed feckless, the sailor seated beside him at the bar was becoming steadily more drunk and conversational.  The man, named Renhg, was apparently only a young crewmate on a fishing vessel, but at least he was a local.

*Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (early evening) – Vhir, Glasia*

The dining room was somewhat modest in size, but expensively decorated, with red cloth wall hangings and finely carved and upholstered chairs at the small tables.  The room was illuminated by the low evening sun coming through the tall lattice windows, though candles were already lit on the tables and in silver candelabras on the walls.

A polite waitress quickly brought the young girl and the kobold the first course of the dinner, a fresh salad and dinner rolls along with the appropriately matched wine, and returned a moment later with the most recent copy of the _Korranburg Chronicle._

Skimming the headlines, it seemed to be a mildly interetsing newsday in Khorvaire.  The feature story was _“Cardinal tried for Heresy: Accused claims Flame is still tainted by its demonic roots.”_  The issue also contained _“Party sent into Mournland: Six mercenaries hired by Cyran Prince to return to destroyed city,” “Dreadhold Master Warden retires: New Master says he’s ready for the job,” _ and _“Karrnath still producing Undead: Anonymous source claims Karrnath continued army’s expansion since Last War; no official statement given.”_

*Lobby, Sail and Scepter Inn (early evening) – Dragen, Carver*

After a few moments left standing in the inn’s lobby, the Brelish bellman entered into the room again, and catching sight of the two guests still there, quickly concluded that they must be somehow confused.  The perpetually calm and well-mannered man stepped briskly over, and asked in a mild tone,

“Excuse me, sirs, but perhaps you would like to be shown to your suite? Or perhaps I could give you directions or recommendations for somewhere in town?”  He paused on the end of his words, eyebrow arched ever so slightly, waiting to continue on with his business.

[sblock="OOC: Carver's HHH"]You should be able to make a HHH tonight, but remember you'll have to buy all the materials ahead of time.  Of course, Carver "grew up" here in Port Verge, so he should have no trouble knowing where to buy things, and can do that quicky and all.[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 17, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (early evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

"Bartender!  Another round for Renhg and my other two companions if you would," Doral requests jubilantly.  He does not add that he is still only on his own second mug.

He sits back down next to Renhg after a toast and says, "Ah, my friend, I must tell ye honestly.  I like this town and you Port Verge folk.  But I must confess I doubt I could live here.  I mean... you folks just don't seem to appreciate a good adventure.  I mean, I keep hearing rumors of how these Blacksurf pirates ply their trade along the coast here.  Now take Morika.  Do you think she or her people would sit back and take that without doing something daring?  When Morika acts it's going to be either with brute force or courageous, sneaky style.  Or take Parlinor here.  The man searches for lost artifacts of unknown power in some of the more dangerous places imaginable.  For fun.  Just imagine his life, sneaking into some old fortress with guards everywhere, sneaking away with some valuable thing, and slipping off into his boat before they knows what happened.  The very thought gets my blood pumping.  I can't tell tales like these two.  I always ruin the story by forgetting who put the sword into the swamp troll.  Hmm... anyway my friend, I like this town fine, and hey, maybe I'll even settle down in a place like this someday and share another drink with you in our old age.  But I just wish I could hear about a Port Verger with real guts and fire in his veins."


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## stonegod (Aug 17, 2006)

*Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (early evening) – Vhir, Glasia*

The kobold notices that only the girl joins him, and nods at her approach. As he eats, he notices once story in particular catches its eye: _'Dreadhold Master Warden retires: New Master says he’s ready for the job'._ Kundalark news was the news of interest for them, and Dreadhold was not that far from here. It eyed the story carefully.

After the story was completed, the kobold eyed the girl again, passing the Chronicle over. "News from home?" it said inscruitably, tapping the Flamish story with a small claw.


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## Bobitron (Aug 17, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> After the story was completed, the kobold eyed the girl again, passing the Chronicle over. "News from home?" it said inscruitably, tapping the Flamish story with a small claw.




Glasia glances at the title and sets the paper down without another look. "The Thranes are people- nothing more, nothing less. The Church holds men and women of both virtue and vice. Association with demons is a far too common accusation cast by certain members of the Church on the Flame. The only reason this is a headline is the man's position." She sighs, her voice suddenly sounding weary and far older than her experience would lead one to believe.. "Heretical? Absolutely. But I have found that less people than one would expect willingly bear the burden of true faith in Thrane. Infighting and a desire to see one's rivals brought low but just such a story are the root of more stories than an actual yearning for the truth."


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## Bront (Aug 18, 2006)

*Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (early evening) – Vhir, Glasia,Carver*
Seeing his companions, heads over to them.  "I have a few errands to run around town this evening.  Stuff to pick up, things to craft, and the like.  Did you need me to escort you around town as well?  Or shall I simply meet you after you have finished consuming things?"

OOC: You missed where Carver followed Glasia I think.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 18, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (early evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Partash patiently listens to Doral's story: _If only things were so simple, my good man... I'm not doing any of this for the fun of it. There is absolutely nothing funny about it in any way. Information is power and the Dreaming Dark knows this as well. What good does an incredibly powerful artifact do you, if your enemy already knows how to counter it? Sure, they are important, but concealing the knowledge about them is even more important. Therefore, I seek these artifacts of which you speak, Doral, and that's why I conceal them..._


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 18, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (early evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Morika strides over near some of those playing drinking games and observes them for a while, draining a mug or two herself, munching on whatever meat she could get out of the kitchen.  After observing a few rounds with the patience of once who has watched wolves, Morika sits down at a clear spot at their table.  

"So, what's the wager lads?  No good playing drinking games if you can't stick someone else with the tab!" she opens, hoping for some friendly (or not-so-friendly) competition.  People talked more when they were drunk, and the quickest way to get someone drunk was with a drinking game.  Simple, and required far less in the way of finesse, finesse she didn't possess.  To open the betting, Morika will let a gold piece be seen briefly in her hand.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 19, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Amidst the chatter and buzz of the drinking crowd, the young sailor listened blinkingly to Doral’s thoughts on his hometown.  After the half-elf’s finishing statement, Renhg tossed back his head and swigged the last of his ale in an unsteady display of his own ‘guts and fire’.  Not bothering to wipe the beer from his chin, he puffed his chest and leaned closer to Doral, frowning through his alcohol-thickened mind.

“Now look ‘ere, I ca’ tell yah abou’ one right now.  Our own Prince, Kolberk’n y’know, he’s uh grea’ ‘ero from th’ Last War.  He an’ ‘is fleet fough’-‘n many a epic battle, raidin’ and killin’ and de-featin’ th’ many en’mies who came teh conquer an’ pil’lage an’ take our city.  Take Lh’zaar, even.  If ih weren’t for him, none ah this”—he swung his arm around him, gesturing widely—“would be ‘ere.  So don’ you go a-sayin’ we don’ have any real men ‘ere in Por’ Verge, stranger.  You don’ know a thin' about what goes on here.”

He tipped his empty mug towards himself and peered in, and set it back down again, remembering it was empty.  Seeing the half-elf unphased, he decided to elaborate on his point.

He leaned towards Doral again, much farther this time, so that the reek of alcohol enveloped the beguiler.  “Y’see tha’ ship ou’ there?”   Renhg tugged at the shoulder of Doral’s shirt with one hand, and pointed across the tavern and out the water-front windows with the other, indicating the _Thresher._  “Thuh real fine one?  Well, you don’ think th’ Prince ‘as ‘n-Element’l Gall-yon for leisure sailin’, do yah?  Tha’s the fastes’ ship ‘n Lh’zaar.  An’ he keeps ah score‘n-a-‘alf of th’ fines’ men an’ sail’rs ‘round, ‘ere in Por’ Verge. ‘is private crew.  An’ they’s all gutsy men too.”

“Well, ev’ryone in Por’ Verge’s gutsy.  You’ve nev’r seen thah winter ‘ere.  This is ah real rough place too,” he nodded.  “You hafta be tough to make it here.”   Then abruptly, with one last defiant nod, the young man turned in his seat, apparently completed fascinated with watching a loud group across the room.


And that group was none other than the one Morika had gone over to join after her eating her (unfortunately light) cod dinner.  The group—a grisly and heavy old sailor, a sharp and smirking half-elf, an already drunken-looking younger sailor, and a stoutly-built gnomish woman—laughed when they heard Morika’s offer, but happily rather than mockingly.

The half-elf, most likely a merchant or shopkeep of some sort, scratched his short beard at the shifter’s proposal, then looked at his companions.  Apparently the betting was on, because he turned back to her and answered, “We’ll play five copper a round into the catch, and last one drinking takes all.”  He smiled slyly.  “And you can call me Bertrand, dear miss, though I’m sure you won’t be able to remember that long with all the drinking…”

The gnome snorted at this, and the older man waved for a round of drinks.  Everyone else was introduced—the old sailor, Delluch, the young, Jerrick, and the gnome, Disonda—and the coins were laid in the center of the table.  A moment later they raised their mugs in a toast.  “May th’ bes’ dog win!”  cried the inebriated Jerrick, and they all tossed down the first gulp.  “Gorgon’s Cough.  Strong stuff, miss…”  said Bertrand, grinning.

After the third round, everyone in the company had grown friendly, except poor Jerrick, who passed out right off his stool halfway through a mug of The Husband’s Last Regret.  Delluch was starting to get a little tipsy too, but Bertrand’s smooth and sarcastic remarks continued unabated, and even Disonda was beginning to join in, though like Morika herself, hadn’t been much affected by the drinks yet at all.

As they started the fourth round, drinking a dark and heavy Karrnathi brew called Dead Rogue’s Request, Delluch turned to Morika and rumbled, “So, young woman, what brings ya teh Port Verge, eh?  You don’t look to be like any sail’r err merch’nt.”

“Can’t you see those blades?”  spoke up Disonda. “That’s more than simple traveler’s protection.  No, those are tools for a purpose.”   She looked at Morika, both challenging and controlled.  “The gold you work for is more stained than what we earn, I think.”

*Dining Room, Sail and Sceptor Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver*

A few blocks away, a very different evening was underway.  While Vhir and Glasia shared the newspaper, the waitress returned with the main course, turkey roast served with potatoes cooked in oil and herbs, as well as fresh bread and wine.

About the same time Carver came in, leaving the cantankerous old bowman to his own mutterings.  The waitress looked at the warforged hesitantly, wondering if one of the spindly little chairs would hold the construct, or what would be proper to serve it, and sighed quietly in relief when she heard he would not be staying.

“Is there anything else I can get either of you?”  she asked Vhir and Glasia.  “I’ll bring the dessert course out when you’re done with this one, otherwise.  And if your other friend joins you, we have an order for cabbage and milk in.”


OOC: Don't worry, Vhir is gets to read that article about Dreadhold, but unfortunately, Ringmereth wrote it up, and I didn't have it at the time I posted this. So the article's posted below.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 19, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

"Aye, I can see you're right. I swear that may be the finest ship I've ever seen," Doral answers friendily.  _No sense making an enemy here.  If this kid knew anything, he'd have mentioned it._  "Who are those people that Morika is speaking with?  You seem to find them interesting enough."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 19, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> *Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*
> 
> As they started the fourth round, drinking a dark and heavy Karrnathi brew called Dead Rogue’s Request, Delluch turned to Morika and rumbled, “So, young woman, what brings ya teh Port Verge, eh?  You don’t look to be like any sail’r err merch’nt.”
> 
> “Can’t you see those blades?”  spoke up Disonda. “That’s more than simple traveler’s protection.  No, those are tools for a purpose.”   She looked at Morika, both challenging and controlled.  “The gold you work for is more stained than what we earn, I think.”



  Morika throws back her fourth mug and shakes her head like a dog.  "Yar!  Good stuff...  Aye, my gold is stained with soldier's blood, like too many these days.  I'm a Reacher, I fought near the Byshek mountins, and got blooded by human soldiers, warforged, ogres, and who knows what else.  That'll stain anything you got and anything you're gonna have!" she says, running a hand through her hair.

"When the war ended, I was out of work.  I been taking jobs all over the place, my last one was in Mror, and I decided to head out this way for a change of pace.  Then I finally get here and things are all in an uproar because of some pirate brothers or cousins or something doing what they shouldn't!  'Tis enough to make you spit," she growls.  

OOC:  The statement is mostly the truth, the lie is more in the omission than the comission, but I'll be Bluffing.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 19, 2006)

Doral listens to Morika's words and stores them.  Every piece of information gleaned is a treasure.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 19, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (early evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

_With that lack of manners, there's no doubt she's a Reacher..._ Partash shakes his head and asks the barkeep for a glass of wine. _Maybe Dragen is right about something. The world is a cruel and unforgiving place which we all want to escape at some point, but he shouldn't keep on hiding on the bottom of a bottle._


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 19, 2006)

When Partash comes near Doral again the half-elf will nudge him gently with an elbow and say, "Parlinor, this moodiness does not become you.  What's on your mind?  I have no desire to sound like a lecturer, but if something is bothering you try to live in the moment.  It's rare our types get to enjoy times like these."


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## Ringmereth (Aug 19, 2006)

OOC: apologies for the disorganization, stonegod.



			
				Dreadhold Master Warden retires: New Master says he’s ready for the job said:
			
		

> Sources within House Kundarak's Warding Guild reported that as of Zor next week, Enathor d'Kundarak is stepping down from his position as Master Warden of the island prison of Dreadhold to spend time at his estate in Kundarakhold. His replacement, Gonharrak d'Kundarak, expressed confidence in an in-house communication, and pledged to continue Dreadhold's perfect security record.
> 
> Dreadhold was constructed nearly three millenia ago by Karrn the Conqueror, and has been used ever since to confine the most important and dangerous prisoners in Khorvaire. In the wake of the Last War, many war criminals responsible for the worst of the conflict's atrocities have been imprisoned in its cells, due to its reputation as the best-protected prison on the continent. In addition to a large garrison of Kundarak dwarves, exotic creatures tamed by House Vadalis are known to be used, as well as magical defenses designed in collaboration with The Twelve.
> 
> No changes from Dreadhold's successful strategies are expected from the new Master Warden. In a correspondence supplied by House insiders, Gonharrak wrote that "Dreadhold's defenses have withstood the test of time, but the Warding Guild must continue to adapt its security strategies as new tools become available."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 20, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Rengh turned his head to Doral again, but then just looked away and ordered up another drink for himself.  Too drunken to care much about the beguiler anymore, he climbed cautiously down from the barstool and sauntered over to some other patrons he knew, leaving the two companions to talk over their drinks.


Across the room, Morika’s three drinking mates listened to her tale while downing their mugs.  Delluch just stared, looking concerned at the pirate ‘uproar’ she spoke of, unaware of the foam left lingering on his rough beard.  Bertrand gave the shifter a studying look, but then leaned back in his seat, clearly contented with her story.

Disonda also seemed to accept Morika’s explanation, until the end when she gave Morika a harder look, seeming to reconsider her.  “Surely you’ve seen worse feuds than these, Reacher.  It is unfortunate that a traveler should become tangled in these local matters… It is interesting that you should encounter them at all.”

Noticing that his drinking game had taken a turn towards less light and entertaining pathways, Bertrand quickly spoke up.  “Come, Disonda, the rivalries in these waters are no secret.  They have gone on as long Lhazaar is old, and surely won’t change anytime soon.  It is no business to any of us what our Prince does to protect and grow our city…” Turning to Morika, he added, “And if I may say so, he does a fine job of that.”  He perked up, and smiled to the whole group.  “Now, we still have some drinking to do, if anyone’s going to win those bets!”

With that he waved for the fifth round, and they raised their mugs in a gestured toast once more before tossing in their coins and sinking into the sweet brew.  As they drank, Bertrand and Delluch both started falling under the alcohol’s spell, but Disonda and Morika remained steady in comparison.


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 20, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

As his drunken conversationalist gets up and leaves, Doral just mentally shrugs.  He wasn't getting much information out of him, anyway.  Drinking his drink, he sits back and watches Morika work.  _I could go over there, but I might ruin the mood.  Better to watch the lady work for now._  Doral otherwise keeps his eyes and ears open as he chats with Partash.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 20, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Partash holds his glass of wine high for Doral to see: "Once more, to our success" he says. He takes a sip from the glass and continues: "So do you really think that we acquire any kind of important information in this place? I'm not questioning your methods, Doral, but don't you think we'd need to aim for higher society in some way? I doubt the rumors from sailors hold much value for us."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 20, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> *Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*
> 
> Disonda also seemed to accept Morika’s explanation, until the end when she gave Morika a harder look, seeming to reconsider her.  “Surely you’ve seen worse feuds than these, Reacher.  It is unfortunate that a traveler should become tangled in these local matters… It is interesting that you should encounter them at all.”
> 
> ...



  "Aye, I've seen worse, and if the land were as peaceable as we're all supposed to think, there'd be no work for creatures like me.  So... what's yer Prince doing to protect the city?  If he's doing such a fine job, he might be a guy I could stand to work for, and pay well too!" Morika says with a bit of the laugh at the end, taking another swig.


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## stonegod (Aug 21, 2006)

*Dining Room, Sail and Sceptor Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver*
OOC: Don't worry about the paper. 


			
				Bobitron said:
			
		

> She sighs, her voice suddenly sounding weary and far older than her experience would lead one to believe.. "Heretical? Absolutely. But I have found that less people than one would expect willingly bear the burden of true faith in Thrane. Infighting and a desire to see one's rivals brought low but just such a story are the root of more stories than an actual yearning for the truth."



Turning to the girl, the kobold simply states, "There are truths and then there is the truth, and the Dragon Below lies between them. None of here is exactly what we seem, and this mission's true aim is mostly likely murky as well. There is little light in the real world, Mistress Glasia, remember that."



			
				Bront said:
			
		

> Seeing his companions, heads over to them.  "I have a few errands to run around town this evening.  Stuff to pick up, things to craft, and the like.  Did you need me to escort you around town as well?  Or shall I simply meet you after you have finished consuming things?"



The kobold, efficiently eating the meal's meat when Carver arrives, regards the warforged a moment. "You can do me this one favor. Make sure this gets to our friend Doral. Tell him to read the Dreadhold article; it may be pertinent to our current situation." The kobold folds the pertinent pages of the _Chronicle_ and hand it to the 'forged. "On your walk, keep an eye out for things that have significantly changed since you last were here. Any news could be used."

Finished speaking for now, the kobold takes a sip of its beverage and regards any other patrons in the inn this night.

OOC: Seeing who else is in the dinning room and in nearby areas that Vhir can see.


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## Bront (Aug 21, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> The kobold, efficiently eating the meal's meat when Carver arrives, regards the warforged a moment. "You can do me this one favor. Make sure this gets to our friend Doral. Tell him to read the Dreadhold article; it may be pertinent to our current situation." The kobold folds the pertinent pages of the _Chronicle_ and hand it to the 'forged. "On your walk, keep an eye out for things that have significantly changed since you last were here. Any news could be used."
> 
> Finished speaking for now, the kobold takes a sip of its beverage and regards any other patrons in the inn this night.
> 
> OOC: Seeing who else is in the dinning room and in nearby areas that Vhir can see.



Carver takes and examines the paper before he tucks it away.  "Oh, I can do that.  I know one of the women who hung out on the corners that I used carvings of bananas to missing, but perhaps she's moved someplace where there are real bananas.  Oh, and I saw that old Ferdinan's store had a brand new cart in front of it, he'd been in need of one for a while.  Does that help?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 21, 2006)

MadMaxim said:
			
		

> Partash holds his glass of wine high for Doral to see: "Once more, to our success" he says. He takes a sip from the glass and continues: "So do you really think that we acquire any kind of important information in this place? I'm not questioning your methods, Doral, but don't you think we'd need to aim for higher society in some way? I doubt the rumors from sailors hold much value for us."




Doral listens quietly to his fellow adventurer, the smile on his face breaking into seriousness for a moment.  "No offense taken, since you are absolutely right.  I had hoped that our task would be an easy one, but it's becoming obvious that we'll learn little here.  My thinking was that Gaardasci's fate might be an open secret, but we would have heard something from the locals by now, I think.  Also, it takes a crew to sail into enemy territory, capture someone, and bring him back.  Unless you use a small band of skilled mercenaries.  If Kolberkon used a band of adventurers to get at Gaardasci, then the circle of people that know what happened is quite small.  Also, the men who conducted such an operation could be anyone from skilled sneaks to richer men with magical means.  So now we need to change our search for information to two arenas.  Either we find who the rich people in the know are, or we have a talk to the local thieves guild.  Guilders always hear a thing or two.  Perhaps the thieves guild is against the Prince, and would like to help.  Perhaps we can find a rich rival to the Prince who had heard some things in his social circles and get him to aid us.  Either way, we either move way up the social ladder or down.  One other thing.  If Prince Kolberkon has Gaardasci, I would bet he's imprisoned close to him.  If we have no luck with other ventures, we're going to have to enter his home and search for evidence.  Since I have no animosity towards the Prince, I'd rather make this as bloodless as possible, sneaking in, getting what we need, and sneaking out.  I believe that some of our companions... might not feel the same.  What are your thoughts?


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 21, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Disonda yet again gave Morika a careful look, but Bertrand, his tongue loosened by drink, spoke before she could:

“Oh, I don’t know much abou’ the fine workings of our Prince’s defenses, little miss, but I do have a few old boyhood friends who have entered his employ… and even more so didn’t make the cut.” Bertrand smiled wryly, though somewhat lopsidedly.  “Y’see, the Prince keeps only the best among sailors and fighters.  Those not good enough for ‘im will go work for the private merchant vessels.”   He tipped back a bit in his chair, inspecting the various weaponry and armor on the sturdily built woman.  Grinning, he said, “You, miss, by the looks of you, might be skilled enough to earn a job.  He pays well enough, especially to his closest men.  He pays to have those stay right here in town, up near his manor!  A good neighborhood, there—”

There was a quick thud, and he was cut off by Disonda’s foot lightly kicking his shin to catch his attention.  “Wha—?”  he started, but the gnome calmly said,

“While you were explaining the local employment process, our companion here has grown quite ill.  I believe he shall need your assistance.”  All turned to look at Delluch, who indeed looked rather awful.  He swooned and swayed a little bit on his seat, eyes drooping and his mouth slightly open, panting from fever.  The poor man wiped the sweat from his temple, then muttered “I thin’ Ih needda go ou’side fer a mommen’… Fresh air an’, an’…” His words trailed off, as Bertrand rose quickly from his seat to guide the old man out of the tavern.

“Looks like it’s just the three of us left in the running,”  stated Disonda. “Barkeep, three more!  Something strong and sweet.”   The gnomish woman turned back to Morika, and said quietly, “Reacher, I don’t know what brings you to our city, or whose gold is hiring your blade… But be careful what questions you ask.  The Prince is a military man; he rules strictly—and punishes harshly.”   She smiled, seemingly imagining the shifter deliciously meeting one such end.

Just then, Bertrand pulled out his chair again, and sat down, looking into the fresh mug to see what they were drinking this round.  “Jilted Nixie, is it?  Stuff’s thicker’n poison.”   Seeing Disonda still looking at Morika, eyebrows slightly arched, he stated the obvious “Delluch is no longer feeling well, and has folded from our drinking game.  We are getting to the final rounds, I think, ladies…”

They all added their five copper to the catch, clicked mugs in a toast, and drink into the sixth round.  Bertrand only became more and more failingly suave, Disonda’s loosened up a little (though her disposition did not), and even Morika began to feel the first soaking of intoxication wash her mind.

*Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver*

The meal continued, with still no sign of Dragen.  The kobold looked around the darkening room, at the faces lit by candlelight.

The dining room was rather small, but what it lacked in size was made up for in tasteful decoration.  Throughout the room were many small, dark wooden tables, each with somewhere between two and four upholstered chairs pulled up to it.  Though it was the peak of suppertime, the room was by no means loud or crowded.  In total, there were only nine other people dining this evening.

At the table nearest their’s sat three sharp-looking businessmen, most likely traveling merchants in town to inspect a possible new product, find some venue for their trade, or something of that nature.  They ate their turkey and drank their wine, chatting and occasionally laughing together, companionable and content.

More in the center of the room, two tables were filled, the first with old-looking and finely dressed elven couple eating in silence, and the second an attractive but bored looking young woman and what appeared to be her mother.  They were talking, but not mirthfully like the businessmen.  Once again their dresses were expensive and fashionable, and they looked to be Audairian.

Along the wall on the far side, near the door to the lobby, was a smug-looking halfling, sitting in a dignified stance regardless of the cushions stacked beneath him.  With them, he still was nowhere near comparable to the height of his human companion, with whom he was talking seriously but enthusiastically, like one who is having an enjoyable debate.   The two of them were less finely dressed than the others in the room, and seemed more to be travelers choosing to sleep on land while their ship was in port, rather than anyone here to do business or attend some lavish event.

No other rooms could really be seen from where the kobold sat, and dusk had steepened, making it difficult to see out the windows.  Occasionally he would catch sight of the bellman striding past the door to the lobby, or the waitress would flit between the guests at their tables.


----------



## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 21, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> *Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*
> 
> 
> “Looks like it’s just the three of us left in the running,”  stated Disonda. “Barkeep, three more!  Something strong and sweet.”   The gnomish woman turned back to Morika, and said quietly, “Reacher, I don’t know what brings you to our city, or whose gold is hiring your blade… But be careful what questions you ask.  The Prince is a military man; he rules strictly—and punishes harshly.”   She smiled, seemingly imagining the shifter deliciously meeting one such end.



  "I'm not lookin' t' anger the mighty, and I know th' pain from military punishment.  I got scars on m' back from Brelish scouts, thinking I was stealing secrets when I was just stealing bread.  Well... all of their bread, truth be told.  They flogged me anyway," Morika says, her voice slurring a bit.  That was actually a true story; she had once tried to steal all the food from a group of Brelish scouts, so their advance would be slowed by the need to hunt and forage, and had gotten caught.  It was lucky they had deemed her punishment enough and left her half-conscious to die.

"Say... this stuff be fair sight better than I ever drunk..."


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## stonegod (Aug 21, 2006)

*Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver*



			
				Bront said:
			
		

> Carver takes and examines the paper before he tucks it away.  "Oh, I can do that.  I know one of the women who hung out on the corners that I used carvings of bananas to missing, but perhaps she's moved someplace where there are real bananas.  Oh, and I saw that old Ferdinan's store had a brand new cart in front of it, he'd been in need of one for a while.  Does that help?"



The kobold looks at the warforged wryly. "Things more pertinent to us, such as changes in military deployment, recent crackdowns, oppressive raises in taxes." The kobold pauses a moment then smiles his predatory smile. "Write it down for me, so I can peruse it at my leisure."


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## Bobitron (Aug 21, 2006)

Glasia eats the rest of her meal in silence. _There is light in this world, and that light is innocence, focused in my little sister,_ she thinks.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 21, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Partash looks around the room to make sure nobody's hearing anything they say before answering: "Well, I don't know how well Morika is doing, but I doubt she's getting a whole lot of information from her drinking buddies. Personally, I've never been much of a diplomat, so I'd leave the talking to you. But can you think of anyone who'd like to see Gaardasci released? To me it would sound like the aspiring nobles just got rid off some of the competition, so I doubt we could find much support for our mission amongst them."

Partash quickly empties the glass and puts it down before continuing: "I think our best chances would be with the city's thieves' guild. They are bound to possess information we could use. It will perhaps cost us to acquire it, but I think their sources would be a whole lot more reliable than some power-hungry nobleman. The question just remains; how do we get in touch with the thieves' guild?" He starts contemplating their next move but still listens to whatever Doral has to say.


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## Bront (Aug 21, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> *Dining Room, Sail and Scepter Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, Carver*
> 
> 
> The kobold looks at the warforged wryly. "Things more pertinent to us, such as changes in military deployment, recent crackdowns, oppressive raises in taxes." The kobold pauses a moment then smiles his predatory smile. "Write it down for me, so I can peruse it at my leisure."



"I'll try, but that will be a long list, and I have things to do tonight," Carver says.

Carver heads out to find Doral and get the items on his list.

[sblock=OOC]picking up the items for the Haversack as I can[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 21, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*

Doral ponders a moment before answering.  "Working through the thieves' guild can be a dangerous endeavor.  We'll have to offer them something better than what they would get if they turned our hides in.  Also, if they are in good standing with the Prince, it will be foolish to get involved since they'd likely betray us sooner than help us.  We need more information.  Meanwhile, it sounds like Morika might get herself hired on for some rough work for the Prince.  It might behoove us to allow her to gather some information as a mercenary under his pay.  I suggest you and I walk the streets in the shadier districts and ask around.  Beggars here things, and their generally non-threatening.  A silver piece goes a long way for such people.  We can move up the food chain from there."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 23, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Morika, Doral, Partash*

“How wretched!”  gasped Bertrand, drunkenly surprised by Morika’s story.  “All-f’r bread…”  He regarded the ale mug between his hands with a depressed expression, swirling the ale around a little bit.

Disonda just looked at him a moment, partly disgusted, before addressing Morika: “I’m sure, traveler, that our Prince’s men would do the same.  Or perhaps worse… they are not known to be gentle menkind.”

“Ah, Dis’nda, stop tryin’ to scare ‘er… You make it soun’ like Port Verge is prowled by monsters at nigh’.  Sure, the Prince’s men are a very…”—he fished around for words—“…brutish, and brut’l, crowd.  But there’s-a reason they don’ leave the barracks complex much.”  He leaned towards Morika, gesturing with his hands the locations of things, enthralled by the subject.  “Th’ compound’s righ' near the Prince’s man'r, bu’ not in it of course.  Not those lot.  Strange thing is, though, tha’ you nev’r see them going into the man'r…”

Disonda glared.  Bertrand didn’t notice, and continued, “They don’ really come an’ go much.  They go drinkin’ sometimes… but we townsfolk avoid ‘em.  Th'only common fo’ who ever really see th’m are th’ whores, really!”  He broke out in drunken laughter.  “They sure go to th’ barracks plenty…”

The table thumped loudly, as Disonda’s mug flew down and slammed hard onto the worn wood.  “Another round!”  she called demandingly.  “But you, Bertrand, are becoming terribly drunk.  Perhaps you should fold from this game?”  she offered coolly, handing him his next mug.

“No, no… You’d-be s'prised whatta comeback I c’n make…”   he winked clumsily at Morika as the barmaid handed her her mug.  “You jus' watch, miss…”  Morika did so, as he flipped his coin into the center, and took a boastful swig of fresh ale… and promptly fell off his chair.

“Mm, seems to have passed out,” Disonda observed casually, seeming completely unsurprised.  “Well, it’s just me and you now, Reacher.  Seventh round.  May the best woman win.”   They collided their mugs over the haphazard copper pile, and drank up, letting happy drunkenness set in.

*About and around town, Port Verge (evening) - Carver*

Carver stepped out onto the quiet familiar streets. The sun was by now only a glow on the western hills that Port Verge was nestled into, and the lamps standing along the town's lanes and avenues were being lit one after another by a torcherbearer making his rounds. Remembering that given the curious ritual of resting at night that other races tend to practice, many shops will soon be closing, he hurried through the streets.

His first stop was The Cut, a tailor and clothier's shop owned by a halfling Bim had known. Feet clacking against the hardwood floor, the construct made his way to the back where bolts of cloth were kept, and quickly found the exotic weave he was searching for—a darkly-colored special silk suitable for extradimensional bags and pouches.  After paying the not unhappily surprised owner a hefty sum, and exchanging a few brief words of familiar greeting, the artificer departed, bag of silk in hand.

His next stop was a small and luxurious smithy, where a young Brelander with a talent for working valuable materials sold his wares. Perusing his inventory, arranged carefully over dark cloth in glass cases and shelves, Carver found a handful of fine brass buckles and fasteners.  He handed over his coins for these items as well, before walking on to his last destination: Banderelli Artifice and Alchemical, the shop he was raised in.

The black-plated Warforged pushed open the comfortable steel door for the first time in months.  Pausing slightly, his magical eyes scanned the room, at once taking in both unfamiliar features and reminders of his home.


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## stonegod (Aug 23, 2006)

*Dining Room, Sail and Sceptor Inn (evening) – Vhir, Glasia*

With the girl being quiet, the kobold is given the opprotunity to scruitinize the others in the room. He suriptiously tries to listen to the general conversation in the room while appearing to read, trying to get a feel of whether any of them could be of use to its inscruitable plans.

[OOC: Listening in and doing a Sense Motive (hunch) to get feel for the room.]


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 24, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> *Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Morika, Doral, Partash*
> 
> “Mm, seems to have passed out,” Disonda observed casually, seeming completely unsurprised.  “Well, it’s just me and you now, Reacher.  Seventh round.  May the best woman win.”   They collided their mugs over the haphazard copper pile, and drank up, letting happy drunkenness set in.



  Morika grins savagely at the gnome as she takes another drink.  "Bertrand seems like a nice fellow," she says very carefully.  "I thought yer eyes were gonna glare straight through 'is 'ead.  He's tellin' secrets no man should know, eh?  Wot I gonna do wit 'em?  Prince's got mean men, 'e don't like 'em in his house...  Lots o' noble types don't trust their guards, don't trust nobody, not even their wives or kids.  Now I know I gots to tone down m' savagery if I go lookin' fer a job wit 'im.  Don't wanna end up dead for m' bread, ye see?" Morika says slowly, and downs another mug, her expression going a bit slack as the alcohol starts to catch up to her.


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## Bront (Aug 24, 2006)

Carver looks around, wondering if anyone else had been here.  Likely not, there was little that would be of interest.  He grabbed what little he needed, and perhaps a bit more, knowing he'd be able to cary more later.

After getting what he needed, he went out to find Doral.  He hated this messanger service thing, particularly when he had things to craft.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 24, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash*



			
				Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> Doral ponders a moment before answering.  "Working through the thieves' guild can be a dangerous endeavor.  We'll have to offer them something better than what they would get if they turned our hides in.  Also, if they are in good standing with the Prince, it will be foolish to get involved since they'd likely betray us sooner than help us.  We need more information.  Meanwhile, it sounds like Morika might get herself hired on for some rough work for the Prince.  It might behoove us to allow her to gather some information as a mercenary under his pay.  I suggest you and I walk the streets in the shadier districts and ask around.  Beggars here things, and their generally non-threatening.  A silver piece goes a long way for such people.  We can move up the food chain from there."



Partash nods in agreement: "It sounds like a reasonable plan." Then he looks over at the shifter who's getting ever more drunk and shakes his head. _I wonder if that's the their way of playing the complicated game of diplomacy..._


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 25, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (later evening) – Morika, Doral, Partash*

Disonda nodded a bit, but then stated simply “Bertrand’s good, p’r’aps, but doesn’t drink well.  He le’s too much spill from th’ corners of his mouth.”   She then sat in silence, drinking her ale contemplatively and watching Morika, making it clear that conversation was over.

They waved for more drink, and the skeptical-looking barmaid nevertheless brought them their eighth round of ale.  Both of the women were getting very drunk at this point, the alcohol catching them swiftly like a poison.  To Morika, the sound and light in the tavern became a smear across her senses, and her addled brain tried failingly to coordinate with her surroundings.  Clumsily yet continuously, she brought the thick mug up to her mouth and poured more of the draft down her throat and then brought the mug crashing back down to the table again.

She noticed Disonda too was having trouble staying steady, and she seemed to swoon a little bit halfway through her drink.  Or maybe it was just Morika, because the whole crowd seemed to be swooning somewhat.  With a glance at the coppery heap, she raised the mug once more.  The warmish brew met her lips, but in a sudden rush the ill feeling surged up, and she could no longer stand to swallow.  Morika let her hand fall, sloshing ale out onto the table and floor.

She blinked very slowly at Disonda, groaned a little and buckled forwards into a hunched position, about to wretch.  The gnomish woman just studied the pale and profusely sweating shifter, before saying in a slow and slurred voice “I’ looks’like I’ve won, Reach’r… You’re nah’ so cunnin’ aft’trall.”

With that she swept the copper pieces, forty of which were Morika’s, off the table into a cloth purse, and smugly staggered out of the bar.  Morika sighed, but felt a little less ill than in that first wave.  Though she had not passed out or thrown up, her eight ales had caught up with her very badly.  Not only was she physically ill, but her mind was in a fog.  She thought she recalled once knowing a spell that had cured a friend of hers from much the same predicament, but alas could no longer remember it.

With new determination, at least to somehow crawl into her bed at the inn, Morika pushed herself very weakly and shakily up from the puddle of spilt beer on the table, just in time to stare in confusion as what appeared to be Craver strode into the bar and over to where her other companions had been sitting.


OOC:  Even though Morika’s pretty much totaled for the night, she may spend an action point to recover quicker, so she’ll be fully functional by tomorrow morning instead of grossly hung-over.


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## Bront (Aug 25, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern*
Carver hands Doral a paper.  "Vhir wanted you to read this."

Carver pauses to look around.  "What's wrong with Morika?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 25, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash, Carver*

Doral nods in thanks to Carver and puts the paper underneath his arm before moving to lightly touching Morika on her shoulder in order to support her weight.  "She decided to have a few too many drinks, Carver.  Why don't you help me get her to her room and safely to bed?" 

He tosses a silver piece to Partash and says, "Parlinor, I know this is awkward, but can you bring up a large mug of water to her room?  She's going to need it in the morning, unless you have something that can cure this affliction now."

If Partash is unable to cure the problem, Morika is helped in getting settled, then they leave her with her key and Doral gets the bartender and is insistent on watching him lock her door to prevent possible thieves from entering or anyone else taking advantage.

He then returns back downstairs and sits with his companions as he looks through the paper.
After a moment he gives a low, "Hmmm...now this is interesting.  Seems like the Dreadhold Master Warden has stepped down.  Well, if there's ever a good time to break into a secure area, it's when a green and still-raw leader is put in charge.  Of course, this only helps us if our target ends up being held inside there..."  Doral's voice trails off, the thought obviously uncomfortable to the otherwise seemingly chipper half-elf.  

Doral taps his chin thoughtfully, then asks Carver, "So my friend, was there a verbal message passed our way also?  Oh, and Parlinor and I were just talking about taking a nighttime stroll through the less fortunate districts of Port Verge, if you're interested in being our guide."


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## Bront (Aug 25, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash, Carver*
"Why would someone drink enough to impare their ability to move?" Carver asked as he helped with Morika.

"No, I was trying to purchase a few things I needed for some crafting tonight, and he simply asked me to bring you that.  I guess that's a good thing if we get in trouble, but we shouldn't be getting into trouble, should we?"


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 25, 2006)

Dark_Jackalope said:
			
		

> *Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (later evening) – Morika, Doral, Partash*
> 
> With new determination, at least to somehow crawl into her bed at the inn, Morika pushed herself very weakly and shakily up from the puddle of spilt beer on the table, just in time to stare in confusion as what appeared to be Craver strode into the bar and over to where her other companions had been sitting.



  Morika stumbled past them and outside, pausing to violently regurgitate what had to be at least two week's meals.  Stumbling back in again, she fumbled into her room and flopped on the bed, unconscious before she hit the covers.

OOC: Yup, I'll spend the action point.


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## Bront (Aug 25, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> Morika stumbled past them and outside, pausing to violently regurgitate what had to be at least two week's meals.  Stumbling back in again, she fumbled into her room and flopped on the bed, unconscious before she hit the covers.
> 
> OOC: Yup, I'll spend the action point.



Carver looks at Doral, "Um, that doesn't look very healthy."


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 25, 2006)

Doral doesn't answer Carver's question immediately, concentrating at first on aiding Morika.  This also gives him time to form an answer that may aid the construct.  That done, he says, "Carver, most humanoids are mentally affected by alcohol.  Many forms of the drink remove our ability to control ourselves physically, but also serves as a relaxer and something that normally makes the body feel good.  Some of us, like Morika here, can handle more than others.  She endured a physical challenge against several employees of the Prince, and beat most of them, therefore gaining their respect after the contest of constitutions."

"If you are going into town anyway, then Parlinor and I can accompany you.  Maybe we'll learn a bit along the way.  Besides, trouble always seems to know where to find men such as us," Doral says. Nodding to Partash he states, "As you say...safety in numbers."


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## Bront (Aug 25, 2006)

*Shark Tank*
"Ok, but most of the shops are closing.  I stoped by Bim's old shop though on my way here, It's still around suprisingly."


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## Deuce Traveler (Aug 25, 2006)

"Excellent.  We'll be sure not to slow you down at all.  Oh, and if anyone asks, use my real name.  Doral Sloans of Vathirond," Doral gets ready to leave with Carver, and focuses on creating a layout of the city in his mind and the location of important landmarks.  He also keeps a lookout for the structures that Morika's drinking 'friends' had mentioned and of the lower income areas where a beggar may be willing to exchange information for coin.


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## MadMaxim (Aug 25, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Morika, Partash, Carver*

Partash catches Doral's silver coin, gets a large mug of water and carries it up to Morika's room. He watches as she collapses on the bed and then he shrugs: "I pray for you to be better in the morning, my child. May the Host grant you the strength to overcome the intoxication you have put yourself through... Rest well, Morika." Then he closes the door to her room and walks downstairs with a small prayer in Quor to il-Yannah on his lips.

Downstairs, he re-joins Carver and Doral and goes over the article in the Chronicle. He nods in agreement with Doral.


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## Ringmereth (Aug 26, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter (later evening) - Dining Room - Vhir, Glasia*

Snatches of conversation drift from the buisnessmen's table towards Vhir. To his ears, their loud banter is insignificant--one merchant shares a joke about the two Talenta halflings on their first visit to Sharn while his companions chuckle and eat their meals. Across the room, the halfling appears to be debating the merits of Aundairian wines from 985 to 991 with his human companion, who stauchly defends the 989 Bluevine white merlot.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Aug 26, 2006)

MadMaxim said:
			
		

> Partash catches Doral's silver coin, gets a large mug of water and carries it up to Morika's room. He watches as she collapses on the bed and then he shrugs: "I pray for you to be better in the morning, my child. May the Host grant you the strength to overcome the intoxication you have put yourself through... Rest well, Morika." Then he closes the door to her room and walks downstairs with a small prayer in Quor to il-Yannah on his lips.



  Morika opens one eye at Partash's entrance, and her eyes reflect the light like an animal's do.  Her muscles tense until she can get a clear view of the mug in his hand.  She takes it and sniffs it a few times, then drinks it down.  "mmthanksmm..." she mumbles, then curls up on the bed again.


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## stonegod (Aug 27, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter (later evening) - Dining Room - Vhir, Glasia*

Listening to the conversation a moment, the kobold does not seem to hear what he wanted. It finishes its meal in silence, lost in thought. When finished, it stands, gathering the loose leaf sheets of the _Chronicle_ with him, stating to the girl, "I will retire to the suite for now. My work is complete until word from our many ears return."


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## Bobitron (Aug 28, 2006)

Glasia smiles softly at the kobold. "Thank you for your company. I'm glad you are here with us during this endeavor." She stands and follows him to the stairs. "I'll retire as well. Hopefully morning brings us the information you seek."


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## stonegod (Aug 29, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter (later evening) - Dining Room - Vhir, Glasia*
The kobold says nothing, only nods, then retires to the room, going the back way if possible. Once there, it reads the paper in silence, waiting for a message that may or may not come. But it is patient, patient as Dragons.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Aug 31, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter, Port Verge (evening) – Vhir, Glasia*

Port Verge's most luxurious accommodations awaited Vhir and Glasia as they made their way to the third floor of the Sail and Scepter. Opening the ornately carved door, they found a large common room to be the center of the suite. On the wall opposite the door, about twenty feet away, tall double doors of glass lead to a balcony.  They had a prime a view of the harbor, and beyond it, the foggy channel between Port Verge and the neighboring island of Trebaz Sinara. On the right and south-facing side of the central room, two bedrooms lay beyond a pair of dark wooden doors; a smaller sleeping chamber was located on the opposite wall, but the room next to it is larger than any of the bedrooms, and looking through the slightly ajar double doors, it appeared to be for conducting meetings and other business.

Thick woven carpets covered the floors, and a few tasteful paintings of scenic vistas adorned the common room's walls. Ornate brass lanterns along the walls had been lit to keep out the oncoming night--the eastern horizon has already grown dark.  There was a small fireplace in each of the side rooms, and a large on in the common room.  The stone façade and hearth were warm from the low fires the maid had left burning, making the rooms more cheery and comfortable.  Facing the large fireplace in the common room was two high-backed chairs upholstered in blue, and a chaise and two squatter chairs were arranged around a low table in the center.  Near the balcony doors, overlooking the harbor, was a small round breakfast table and four chairs.

The girl and the kobold made themselves at home, unpacking their things into the armoires and onto the desks and tables in their rooms of choice.  In the largest bedroom was a lavish canopy bed, clothed in the same blue as the chairs in the common room.  The adjoining room held two smaller and simpler beds, and the third chamber beside the meeting room had one small bed.

As they had just about settled in for the night, after properly moving into the suite, a brisk and officious knock sounded on the front door.  The bellman’s smooth muffled voice announced, “Visitor for Master Vhir, a dwarf by the name of Bourstart.  Since you were expecting a message, I took the liberty of bringing him up with me.”



OOC:  Question for Bront: is Carver headed back for the Sail and Scepter, or is he joining Doral and Partash on their endeavors?


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## stonegod (Aug 31, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter, Port Verge (evening) – Vhir, Glasia (and Dragen?)*

The kobold spent the time after dinner working on the various puzzles in his old news leaf, thinking obscure thoughts. It had noticed the bowman had retired to one of the rooms, but said nothing of it. The construct had not yet returned, but it would have followed orders---that  was their nature, after all.

When the knock came, the kobold ensured that the bedroom doors were closed and then answered. Seeing the dwarf there, it nodded and made a gesture to the meeting room to the side. It appeared not to recognize the new dwarf. "Master Bourstart, good evening to you. I do not believe I had the pleasure of your company earlier. I assume your colleagues from the _Thresher_ informed you of our conversation. What news?"

OOC: I'm assuming that Bourstart was not with the original dwarven contingent.


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## Bront (Sep 1, 2006)

OOC: He's going with with Doral and Partash, as they asked for his guidance.


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## MadMaxim (Sep 5, 2006)

*Shark Tank Tavern, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Carver, Partash*

"Well, let's get going, shall we?" Partash asks while walking towards the exit.


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## Ringmereth (Sep 6, 2006)

The door glides open, and Vhir immediately recognizes the scarred, dark-haired dwarf. His fatigue is clear as he shuffles into the fine common room, the door closing quietly behind him. Getting straight to the point, he speaks as soon as the three are alone. "Good evening to you as well, sir. I came straightaway from a long meeting with the Prince, and the news won't be to your liking," Bourstrart admits with a grimace as he takes a seat at the round table near the opposite wall. "Kinndareck told the Prince about your concerns, and... he didn't expect the news from him, I can tell you. He wanted to know how we knew about it," the continues, scratching his beard. "He could have kept it to himself, but there's more delicate buisness here than just your Baron. Kinndareck told Kolberkon about you and your entourage. He said a kobold told him he came from the Blacksurf Principalities to negotiate. Aye, and that interested the Prince."

"Well, he said that he'd been dealing with trouble from the Blacksurf Principality a'fore the Last War was over. Said that you--your bosses, I mean--aren't 'civilized like me or you.' He told Kinndareck not to worry himself with it, said he'd deal with it himself." The dwarf, previously looking down in thought, turns his eyes up to meet Vhir's. "That was all we said about that... no, no. The Prince told us--laughed a bit--said that 'even the Gaardasci boys aren't fool enough to attack me with their father here.'" Bourstrart shrugs, looking uncomfortable. "That's your news," he finishes lamely, standing up. 

"I'm just the messenger, but I don't think I'll see you again. It looks as if the Prince wants to deal with you, face to face," the dwarf predicts. He makes for the door with a nod to the wizard and warlock duo. "Goodnight, sir, m'lady."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Sep 7, 2006)

*Middle Docks District, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Partash, Carver*

The trio climbs the gentle slope inland a few blocks, in the general direction of both the Sail & Scepter and the Prince’s manor and barracks complex, before turning left and heading down a narrow yet still decorative street.  They continued one for a little while, watching the middle-class commercial district slowly dilapidate and give way to a poorer working class neighborhood.

Still lined with businesses and shop-windows, the street narrowed and darkened still, and began to meander back and forth in a winding route as it channeled south into the poor half of the city.  They passed the occasional drunk staggering out of a pub, one young couple wandering aimlessly, and an old man sleeping half-upright on a stone stoop.

Coming to an intersection with another main roadway, the companions were stopped by a man sitting cross-legged on the street corner.  He was thin and filthy, and his arms were somewhat crooked.

“Spare ‘ny copp’r? Th’ poor litt’le un needs it bad…”   Fearing their disinterest, he held up one arm to reveal a tiny scrap of fur nestled there, which proved to be a ragged kitten.  “She’s too litt’le to kill rats… Th’ rats jus’ about killed her, that’s when I found ‘er…”

Across the way, two women stood at the side of a brick building, watching to see what the strangers would do.  Presently, they stepped forth and crossed the cobbled street.  In the lamplight their clothes, which were at once both elaborate and poor, as well as the very way they moved, made clear that they were what Carver had described as ‘women who hung out on the corners.’

“Good evening, gentlemen.  And warforged.” She was smiling girlish way, though not un-flirtatiously.  “We were afraid to come over and say hello, not many newcomers here that aren’t sailors…”

“You look more like Prince’s men than anything… But not nearly so rough-cut.”  Her friend smiled also, and swung forward a little bit in Doral’s direction, gauging his reaction before righting herself and smiling politely to the warforged.

The first spoke up again, turning to Partash.  “Normally we love a newcomer, y’see, but Mirren… He told Jisia”—a slight nod of her head towards the second girl—“tonight that there’s Blacksurf in the city.”

In what was seemingly the first genuine expression either of them had shown, both of their smiles weakened into brief frowns of concern and mingled fear.  They recovered, though, and the first girl continued, stepping closer to Partash as if seeking reassurance: “But a Blacksurf wouldn’t even stop to look at a beggar’s cat, would he?”

Hearing acknowledgment of his presence, the man sitting on the curb perked up and turned his neck to face the girls, completely apathetic to their sharing the nightly money-making business with him, but his face nevertheless still full of curiosity.  “What else di’ th’ Capt’in Mirren say?”

Jisia looked away from Doral, and replied in a more ordinary, much less honey-sweet voice: “Don’t go spreadin’ rumors, beggar.  The spies are being taken care of tonight, I’ll tell.”

The beggar smiled, appeased. “Good, good… spies are worse than rats, y’know.”   He said it almost as if trying to inform his cat, which he returned his attention to since it had woken.


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## Bront (Sep 7, 2006)

Carver offers the man a few coppers.  "Here, this shoud be enough to make something to eat.  I think.  But sir, if you wanted it to hunt mice, shouldn't you have made it bigger?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Sep 7, 2006)

"Hmmm... with these Blacksurf types possibly roaming the streets, it would probably be best if we found a safe place to stay, ourselves.  At the same time, I certainly don't want to have to explain my comings and goings to an overzealous city watch.  My name is Doral Easter, formerly of Cyre, and I've seen enough trouble to last me a lifetime.  Any of you ladies or gentleman know of a safe place for us to hole up without being bothered," Doral asks politely, but throws a wink to the ladies.  If one of the women suggests that he spend some money with them to stay the night, he will thank them politely, and promise to return once he gets his friends safely home.  He will then ask where they may be found tonight, since a brothel might be an ironic, but logical place to hide since the madame there will be used to keeping secrets about her clients.

Then Doral will start moving back from the direction they came and say, "I hate to cut this short, Carver, but I'm thinking that our mission has been blown, unless there are others here claiming to be Blacksurf men.  We need to get to Morika before the local guard does.  She's helpless in her condition.  What's worse, she's too honest.  We need to carry her and her gear out of the tavern and head out to meet that kobold and the rest."

Doral's mind races as he hurries back towards their tavern.  The mission has been blown, and it was time to get out of Port Verge with their hides intact.  For a moment, he fingered his dagger and considered that he might have to cut Morika's throat in order to save her from being captured, tortured for information, and made an example.  The thought disgusted him, but he was ready in case she was immobile.  _And what of my employer?  He is the one that asked us to come disguised as Blacksurf agents.  Were we a distraction?  Pawns to be sacrificed as he moved towards a greater target?  A feral beastwoman, an ignorant warforged, a delicate female spellcaster, a kobold with a god-complex, an archer who prefers conflict... and me, a known failure.  If the polite, goodly Parlinor has a darker past, then this group makes sense.  We were bound to be noticed upon entry to Port Verge.  Can it be that we are meant to fail?  Or am I finally becoming paranoid beyond usefulness?_  Doral tightens his jaw around such angry thoughts, and begins to think of a plan.


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## MadMaxim (Sep 9, 2006)

*Middle Docks District, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Partash, Carver*

Partash looks at the women with an expression of pity on his face. He obviously feels sorry for them. He takes off his gray cloak and wraps around the first woman that came up to him. "May the Host give you strength, my child..." He says softly.

After Doral voices his concerns for everyone's safety, he quickly adds: "In case we get separated, we should still be able to communicate." He grabs Doral's shoulder and concentrates for a moment, manifesting his inborn psychic power.

_Don't get upset, Doral. This is the way it's supposed to work. Now we're able to communicate telepathically for a short while, so we'll be able to co-ordinate our efforts better._

OOC: Partash manifests his _mindlink_ psionic power on Doral and it lasts for 20 minutes.


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## stonegod (Sep 9, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter, Port Verge (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, and Dragen*

The kobold says nothing as the dwarf delivers his message, instead gazing intently at the dwarf. It remains passive the entire time. It does turn to the girl and whispers, "Get the archer." Making sure Glasia is out of the room, it asks one question of the leaving dwarf.

"And do you think you were followed, then?"

_You better give the answer I want, dwarf. You do not realize what hangs in the balance._

OOC: Sense Motive on the dwarf's speech. Sorry for the delay; saw Jackalope's posting and not Ringmereth's.


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## Bront (Sep 10, 2006)

*Middle Docks District, Port Verge (evening) – Doral, Partash, Carver*

"If we must, there are many ways to get around the city.  We can probably take refuge in Bim's old shop, it's been undesturbed since I left,"  Carver says.

OOC: Did you mindlink Carver too?


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Sep 10, 2006)

Morika remained in her alcohol-induced stupor, her mind containing probably valuable information... if she could just find the will to get up.  But she had abused herself enough and her body was booking no arguement in her sleeping for the next ten hours or so.  Bad enough that she had no time to tire herself out before bed, worse that the drink had loosed some of her worst memories.  Now her mind replayed them, or parts of them, strung together in no particular order, to her sorrow and dismay.

"-Yer not gonna take food from hard-working soldiers of the Brelish crown now, are ye shifter?  Nay, I didn't think so.  Hold her down boys!  I need to give her some stripes to remind her t' mind her manners!"  Course laughter, bruising strength crushing all her limbs, and flashes of fire on her back...

"Watch this place here, Morika," her mother whispered.  After a long wait, a rabbit came jumping down the path, to the delight of the young shifter girl.  Her mother said this rabbit was her very own, and if she came to its run, she could see it if she was patient enough.  Morika watched the rabbit with rapt fascination, tickled at its big ears and fluffy paws.  Then there was a rustling, a leap and growl, and the rabbit vanished in a flurry of wolf jaws and splashes of blood...

The top peaks were where the shifter woman was most at home, climbing the steep rock faces, leaping from face to face, at one with the sky and clouds.  A hail of rock, a sharp pain from behind, then agony from her broken leg...

"You damned animal!  Look what you did, you stupid disgusting feral _beast!_" he yelled at her, screaming at her in front of the others, shaming her and putting her in her place as surely as any alpha male did to any unruly female...


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## Bobitron (Sep 10, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> *Sail and Scepter, Port Verge (evening) – Vhir, Glasia, and Dragen*It does turn to the girl and whispers, "Get the archer."




Glasia's eyes are wide with suprise and curiousity, but she doesn't question the kobold. She reaches out and grabs her pack, quickly moving to find Dragen.

Upon finding the archer, she clears her throat and interrupts his drinking (ooc: I assume  ).

"There's action. The kobold's meeting with a dwarf. He wants you along if you can spare the time."

Not waiting for a response, she turns and heads back to Vhir.


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## stonegod (Sep 10, 2006)

Bobitron said:
			
		

> Upon finding the archer, she clears her throat and interrupts his drinking (ooc: I assume  ).



OOC: Last I checked, he was trying to eat some cabbage and stay out of trouble.


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## James Heard (Sep 10, 2006)

Dragen raises his eyebrow at the curt response and laughs silently. Then, deciding that the young girl isn't worth waiting on, goes back to eating his cabbage and crunching on his bread.

He shrugged.

_I suppose if it were important then someone would wait to see if I cared to go. Oh well. Good soup though, too bad the company is so sketchy. I wonder what the shifter girl is up to? Perhaps I shall check in the morning._

Dragen prepared for bed, keeping the oiled rags of his bow close at hand.

_Kobold is going to get everyone else killed._

Dragen shook his head.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Sep 11, 2006)

*Suite in the Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) - Vhir, Glasia, Dragen*

The dwarf turned in place an arm's length away from the door. "Followed?" he asked, furrowing his brow in concerned thought. "I..." he blinked, "no, I saw no one." His voice carried worry, but Vhir judged it to be honest. "Good luck to you," he added, tugging the door wide and stepping into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind him. Vhir and Glasia were again alone in the common room, and first noticed the soft and steady rhythm of raindrops on the roof and balcony. Night was upon Port Verge, and a cold rain had followed it.


*Middle Docks District to Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Partash, Carver*

The two women seem disappointed that their new acquaintances are hurrying off so soon, but happily tell Doral where he can find them later that night, if he changes his mind.

After that, the trio hurried quickly through the streets, retracing their steps towards the wealthier end of town.  It surprises them how far they’d wandered, and as they rush along, the first drops of rain begin to fall coldly on their skin.  The night sets in fully, and their heavy breath is visible before them as they hurry through the damp.  It seems an uncomfortably long while until they reach the cross street leading down waterfront, and the Argotch Inn.

Rounding the last bend onto the waterfront street, they slow down at the reassuring sight of lamplight flowing out the smudged windows of the inn.  Though it’s hard to make out through the warped and dirty glass, it looks like a party of travelers has arrived late looking for a place to sleep, and are crowded around the goblin’s desk.

Upon opening the door, however, it became suddenly apparent this was not correct.  The flick of the lights from the cold sea wind sucking into the room cast the three men is shadowy contrast.  Or rather, two men and one oversized, meaty hulk that looked like some very distant kin of the nervous-looking Argotch.

The bugbear was the first to turn, staring at the three figures in the doorway.  Instead of carrying the usual traveler’s accouterments, he was decked in sturdy studded armor, and had an assortment objects attached to his belt, including a shortsword and two fighting daggers.  But the largest tip-off that he was no common traveler was the handsome longsword strapped to his back.

He uttered a low cross between a grumble and a growl, as the other two abandoned their conversation with the goblin.  “Thank yeh, but it looks like we’ve found ‘em any-how…” said the shortest, a bold-looking woman, with fly-away brown hair tied back in a simple pony-tail.  She crossed her hand over to the hilt of her scimitar as she was turning, slipping her other arm, strapped with a buckler, out of her cloak as well.  The red cloth, a faded velvet, swirled enough to reveal a polished chain shirt.

The third companion, a silent and calm man whose tan face and pale-blond hair gave away little of his age, fingered at the shark-tooth on the cord at his neck, much like the one each of them was wearing, before wriggling his shoulders to be sure his breastplate was in place and gripping his trident with both hands.

There was a split second in which they all stood facing one another, eyes meeting across the short distance.  The only sound was the slow and deliberate slicing sound of the bugbear smoothly drawing his longsword over his shoulder, and Argotch ducking behind his desk with a rustle.  Then the moment was broken, as Doral swirled into movement.

OOC: Doral shall move first, with Carver going before Partash.


[sblock="Combat Information"]Each round, we'll provide an updated status report of all characters involved in combat for your and our convience, including any effects on your character.

Doral Kinsman
20 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20 (Flat-footed)
AP 7

Partash
22 HP
AC 15 (Flat-footed)
AP 7
_Mindlinked_[/sblock]


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## stonegod (Sep 11, 2006)

*Suite in the Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) - Vhir and Glasia*

The kobold waits for the dwarf to leave, then immediately turns to the wizard. "I see you failed to get the archer. No matter; I will take care of it. While I do so, gather your things. Try to take only what is needed. We must find the others before we ourselves are found. I need to know what spells you have prepared, if any, now." Even under duress, the kobold's voice is cool, though more insistent, more direct if possible.

The kobold then turns in the direction of Dragen's room, and calls out loudly, "Dragen! The dogs are out tonight and now hunt us. It is time to be the wolf."


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## Bront (Sep 11, 2006)

Carver draws his shield and morningstar, and...

[sblock=What Carver does]Depending on what happens by then.  Conditions are in order of preference
1) If he or a companion is attacked, he will attack the attacker with the Mourningstar

2) If Doral attacks (melee), then he will step forward and infuse Doral's cloak with Shield of Faith (CL 5 so +3 deflection AC bonus)

3) He will infuse himself with Strength of the Bull.[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Sep 11, 2006)

Doral doesn't waste time thinking, but if he did he would be cursing under his breath.

If he is within range of them, the beguiler will cast _color spray_, which should get all three of them if they are at the desk.  If he can only get two of them, he'll concentrate his spell in an attempt to make the bugbear one of the pair affected.

If Doral can only affect one with the _color spray_, or if he's not in range, he'll cast _sleep_ at the group instead.  After his spell, he'll step back behind his companions for protection.


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## James Heard (Sep 11, 2006)

*Suite in the Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) - Dragen*


			
				stonegod said:
			
		

> The kobold then turns in the direction of Dragen's room, and calls out loudly, "Dragen! The dogs are out tonight and now hunt us. It is time to be the wolf."



_"Slaughter and madness will follow if needed, but only if needed," my enshrined and holy behind. What a coy little scaly that one is. And if we'd just leaped down the gangplanks shooting we'd likely be no more in danger than with his hot air added into the mix for confirmation._ Dragen sighed. _At least I got a good bowl of soup out of it,_ he thought as he lay coin on the table beside him sufficient to pay for the trouble, with a nice tip for the innkeeper in way of apology if the creature's antics cause someone to burn the place down.

He shrugged on his armor and fastened the straps tight, pondering his next move.

_I'll not be dying for_ THAT_ little creature, nor the muzzled beast from Thrane he keeps company with either._ Dragen considered. _Better those two get all the oblivion that they deserve and the sooner we'll all be better for it._

_Need to distance myself from them...get back in touch with the rest and see if we can't decide whether or not the kobold has screwed us up entirely, or only in a middling sense._

_Too much to think about,_ he sighed. _The gods will probably gain their quotas tonight in any case if that little pompous scaled-woman is crying so about it already._

Dragen shrugged, and slipped out the window and onto the streets as quietly as possible, seeking out the others at their lodgings, looking only once over his shoulder.

_Khyber's Luck to you, creature. Kyber's Luck indeed._ he cursed underneath his breath, and farted merrily down the streets in darkness.


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## MadMaxim (Sep 11, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Partash, Carver*

Partash looks at briefly at their attackers and quickly decides that the bugbear will most likely pose the greatest threat to him and his companions, drawing his magical mace from his belt, he focuses his gaze on the bugbear. "You just made a grave mistake, bugbear..." He makes some strange gestures and utters some words in Quor before his left hand points towards the hulking creature.

OOC: Partash draws his _+1 heavy mace_ and casts _curse of ill fortune_ on the bugbear. -3 penalty on attack rolls, saves and skill checks, Will DC 16 negates.


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## Bobitron (Sep 11, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> The kobold waits for the dwarf to leave, then immediately turns to the wizard. "I see you failed to get the archer. No matter; I will take care of it. While I do so, gather your things. Try to take only what is needed. We must find the others before we ourselves are found. I need to know what spells you have prepared, if any, now." Even under duress, the kobold's voice is cool, though more insistent, more direct if possible.




Glasia's eyes betray a good amount of fear at the change in Vhir's tone. She calls softly to Cloudchaser, who lifts though the air in what would be better described as a hop than flying, landing lightly on her shoulder. "I... I have..." Her voice trails off. Shaking her long hair, she sets her jaw and speaks. "I have an assortment: protective spells to shield and armour, a spell to bring sleep, obscure the sight, break objects, and burn our enemies with a ray of flame." Glasia meets the kobold's eyes. "I have no experience in combat, Vhir. Tell me what I must do."

ooc: Detect Magic, Read Magic, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Shield, Mage Armor, Obscuring Mist, Sleep, Shatter, Invisibility, Scorching Ray


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## stonegod (Sep 12, 2006)

*Suite in the Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) - Vhir and Glasia*

The kobold nods quickly at the girl's words, but does not immediately respond. Instead, it goes to the door of Dragen's suite and knocks perfunctorily. After a moment, it opens the door. Seeing the window open and the archer obviously missing, the archer again nods to itself, as if expecting this. It turns quickly back to Glasia. 

"The archer has left us, which in some was makes this easier. This is the plan. We need to do one simple thing---misdirect those that come after. We destroy their advantage of knowing us by making their knowledge nothing. To do that, we must be made to disappear. You will use your magic to obscure, to plant a false trail. But in order to do this properly, we will need to sacrifice some of ourselves." 

He stares at the girl intently a moment, then holds out his hand. "Your dagger." It is not a statement, but a command, with dark intent behind the eyes. Assuming it is given, it will hold the dagger and her hand a moment. "This will hurt. Do you trust me?"


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## Bobitron (Sep 13, 2006)

Glasia hesitates for a long moment, then reaches in her robe and pulls forth her dagger, handing it to her companion. She nods at his query regarding her trust, but the fear in her face is clear.


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## stonegod (Sep 13, 2006)

*Edit: No cure light.*

*Suite in the Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) - Vhir and Glasia*

The kobold nods, and then quickly but lightly slices the girl along the arm. As she winces, the kobold simply states, "Our blood is needed for this." He gathers some blood on the dagger, then proceeds to the room she has chosen for herself and begins to use the self-same dagger to mutilate the sheets and bedding. It then purposefully cuts open its left arm, hardly flinching, and performs the same act on the large canopy bed. It then uses the blood wet dagger to drip a trail leading from the rooms to the archer's former room and window and then shakes it a few time outwards into the alley.

Calmly wiping the dagger on a piece of cloth which it then incinerates with a blast of purple energy from its hand, the kobold holds the blade out to the now confused and hurt girl. "That should confuse things. Perhaps you could use _prestidigitation_ to soil the works as well."

"Now, the next part it crucial. We are not going to simply leave. Out the front door. First, I shall be invisible by your casting. You, however, will need to disguise yourself somehow, perhaps to look like a porter, considering the large bundle you must carry." The kobold pointedly does not look at the cage, though his intent in clear. "It would be better if we could disguise me magically, perhaps to be an approximation of that halfling traveller we saw earlier, and for your to be invisible, as that would making things easier, assuming you could keep the bird quiet." The kobold then examines his wound, which appears less than it first appeared. As it does so, it looks again at the frightened girl. "I assume you have the means to heal yourself. Best to do so before we leave."

OOC: So that's the plan. Prick the both of us so Vhir can gather some blood to work up the sheets and suggest a false trail (perhaps with soiling from "tracked in" dirt from a _prestidigitation_), then walk out the front door disguised or invisible. The goal would be to throw off scent and visual trackers a bit. The goal is *not* to implicate Dragen, but his footprints and the others in the alley should work to Vhir's end. Would be grand if we had _disguise self_ (Doesn't Glasia have a scroll?) to make Vhir look roughly like the traveling halfling (similar clothes and build and such), but we can try to work around it. Vhir will use one of his _cure lights_ to heal the damage he does to himself if it is ruled significant.


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## Ringmereth (Sep 15, 2006)

Moving with precision and speed, Doral's fingers trace runes and arcane letters in the air, and an utterance finishes the _sleep_ spell just before his foes' weapons are drawn. A heavy sigh escapes the trident-wielding brute's throat; his head nods and he collapses like a felled tree. Tumbling out of his limp hand, the prongs of the trident clatter against the hardwood floor at the bugbear's feet, but the hulking killer is already in motion. 

Dashing across the length of the Inn's lobby, a span of thirty feet, the bugbear hurls his momentum into a dangerous thrust with his longsword towards his nearest foe. The blade flashes in a deadly arc towards Carver, rings loudly against his dark plating---and then bounces away, harmlessly deflected. The bugbear growls and draws a shortsword in his meaty left hand while raising the longer weapon in defense against the Warforged's counterattack, an awkward swing of Carver's mace clashes with the flat of the sword, not his enemy's flesh.

Close behind her bulkier companion, the scimitar-wielding warrior spins her weapon in fast cuts through the air as she advances towards the melee. She too aims her strike at the nearest target, not considering the artificer's heavy protections. The curved edge of her blade stops short when Carver swings his shield into the scimitar's path.

As Doral scrambles behind his construct defender, Partash speaks an invocation to curse the trio's most imminent threat: the bugbear, whose movements immediately become noticably erratic and ungainly. His right-hand sword, held steady only a second prior, wobbles unsteadily in his meaty fist.

[sblock=Combat Information]
Doral Kinsman
20 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20 (Flat-footed)
AP 7

Partash
22 HP
AC 15 (Flat-footed)
AP 7
_Mindlinked_[/sblock]

Dragen finds jumping out the window a challenge; the ledge is perched nearly 25 feet above the avenue below. The archer attempts to let himself down carefully, but the sill is slick with rain, and as he lowers himself out his fingers suddenly loose their grip. He flails his arms wildly in midair for a moment before crashing down to the street. Landing flat on his back, he feels momentarily stunned by the impact and finds that his collision forcibly emptied his lungs. 

Already the Karrnathi has little doubt that by morning he will sport some impressive bruises from the fall---but bruises heal, and his bones are unbroken. Shaking off the pain and scrambling to his feet, the archer sees no witnesses to his unlucky fall. His bearings found, he makes for the Argotch Inn and the rest of his companions.

OOC: Dragen takes 4 damage from his fall. Also, Glasia and Vhir each take 2 damage from their bloody diversion.


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## Deuce Traveler (Sep 15, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Partash, Carver*

If Doral can get in a _color spray_ at the two people in front of Carver, while avoiding Carver, he will.

Otherwise, he casts a _sleep_ at the woman.


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## Deuce Traveler (Sep 15, 2006)

OOC: The woman may go down from the spell, so if she does and you plan to attack her, please annotate that you will switch targets to the bugbear if she goes unconscious.


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## Bobitron (Sep 15, 2006)

*Suite in the Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) - Vhir and Glasia*

A few flicks of the fingers is all that is needed to cast the minor glamour that Vhir needed to soil the area. She nods in reply to his other requests, her blood pumping hard in her veins as the lingering magical energy dissipates. Pulling the correct components for the spells from her pouch and the correct scroll, she first disguises Vhir as he advised, trying to recall some of the basic features of the halfling they had seen earlier. Once the illusion is complete, she quietly casts the spell to render herself invisible.

"Cloudchaser will stay silent if asked," she says in a whisper. "I'll stay slightly behind you to the right." She wraps her hand tightly in a cloth as the kobold prepares to go, not wanting him to see her wince.


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## stonegod (Sep 15, 2006)

*Suite in the Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) - Vhir and Glasia*

The kobold nods sharply, adjusts his glamored clothes, cracks his neck, and then changes his posture to seem---to seem more halfling-like and less kobold like. He then opens the door, waits a bit for the unseen Glasia to exit, then closes them. Then, with a quick step, he makes for the back stairs out of the inn and into the night, back towards their companions. He keeps a wary eye out for anything unusual out this night.


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## Bront (Sep 16, 2006)

Carver swings his morningstar again hoping to connect with his opponent.


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## MadMaxim (Sep 17, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Partash, Carver*

Partash tries to help Carver against his two opponents, swinging his heavy mace at the nearest one.


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## Ringmereth (Sep 19, 2006)

*Lobby, Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime)*

Behind the bulk of the warforged, Doral looks for an opening to cast the rays of his color spray spell through, but Carver and his attackers are locked too fiercely in combat for the spell to hit only the bugbear and woman. He repeats the same patterns of casting, but the raging woman and her flashing sword are unrelenting.

On both sides of the entryway, weapons flash into and out of the light inside the Argotch's lobby and the darkness beyond its door. The disoriented bugbear jabs his longsword forward several times, once, twice, thrice, testing Carver's defense before delivering a sudden overhead swing. The sword curves upwards in a powerful overhead swing and lunges towards the artificer. 

Then its graceful strike is suddenly interrupted with a shower of plaster and the crunch of splintering wood, the blade caught on the inn's threshold---and the killer's guard left open for a quick blow the warforged delivers to his armored stomach. The woman assassin tries to exploit the strike to bring her scimitar to bear, but Carver's adamantine body protects him again, turning the blade away despite the cloaked assailant's true aim.

Partash joins the deadly rhythm of sword-strikes and bludgeonings with downward swings of his mace; the bugbear jumps away from the odd pair's onslaught, but his unfortunate cohort steps forward into her thrust instead and recieves the blow to her leg. "You bastard!" she yells, pain in her voice.

[sblock=Combat Information]

Doral Kinsman
20 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20
AP 7

Partash
22 HP
AC 16
AP 7
_Mindlinked_[/sblock]

*Sail and Scepter, Port Verge, (nighttime)*

The 'halfling' and his invisible companion quietly let themselves out of their briefly-occupied suite, shutting the door behind them. Vhir leads the way down the magically lit stairs while Glasia attempts to follow silently behind him. They descend one flight of stairs and are halfway down the second when a man in blue and brown turns the corner and looks at the disguised kobold, his eyes widening a bit. Vhir remembers a moment later that the man was the halfling's companion in the dining room. "I--what?" he sputters, blinking, clearly taken aback. "You... I left you down--in there just a moment ago!" he exclaims, stepping towards his supposed companion, oblivious to the unseen mage's presence.


----------



## stonegod (Sep 19, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> *Sail and Scepter, Port Verge, (nighttime)*
> "I--what?" he sputters, blinking, clearly taken aback. "You... I left you down--in there just a moment ago!" he exclaims, stepping towards his supposed companion, oblivious to the unseen mage's presence.



The disguised kobold holds back a sneer, but the role of a smug halfling was one that he thought he could play well. But on the inside, an anger was boiling. It was time to leave, and no inconsequential human was going to get in his way. _Glasia better stay still, or I'm going to have to end it._

Keeping in motion, trying to get past the human, the kobold attempts to mimic the halfling's manner as he witnessed earlier. "Shows you how well you pay attention! Just getting a little breather. Don't you worry; I'll be back in a few." 

OOC: Bluff (to act in character) in conjunction with the Disguise. If this doesn't work, Vhir has a nasty surprise in store...


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## Deuce Traveler (Sep 19, 2006)

Doral was afraid he was going to have to kill her, although he had a dislike of harming women.  Reaching into his pack, he pulls out his _wand of magic missile_ and shoots the armored woman.


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## Ringmereth (Sep 20, 2006)

The human responds to Vhir's lie with a nervous chuckle. "But--yes, well..." His voice trails off. "Just a few minutes? Yes. We'll talk then," he says, looking at his shoes and speaking to himself as much as his apparent travelling partner. He scurries up the stairs, looking once more over his shoulder with a look of utter confusion.


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## stonegod (Sep 20, 2006)

The moment the man is out of the way, Vhir keeps on moving. The kobold suspected something was up, and was not going to wait to see what was going to happen. He keeps his pace steady, so as not to draw attention. He does not look at anyone, and does his best not to call notice to himself as he moves out. As he moves, he quietly whispers to no one in particular, "If we are stopped again, _keep moving_."


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## Bobitron (Sep 20, 2006)

Glasia realizes she was holding her breath when Vhir warns her, letting it out with a long exhalation. She nods, then blushes furiously. "Right," she says so softly it can barely be heard.


----------



## Bront (Sep 20, 2006)

"I hardly think complaining about injuries resulting from you attacking us is reasonable,"  Carver points out as he swings back at the man, trying to press his advantage.


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## James Heard (Sep 21, 2006)

Dragen shrugged and simply continued to make his way to the Argotch Inn.


----------



## Dark_Jackalope (Sep 26, 2006)

*Sail and Scepter Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Vhir, Glasia*

The “halfling” hurried down the remaining steps and across the carpeted lobby, carrying his few personal items and a cage very nearly his size, with a large hawk peeking out of the silk cover.  An odd sight, perhaps, but the bird behaved as if nothing was amiss, only scanning the surrounding area, wide-eyed.

To their fortune, they encountered no one else on their way out of the inn, and the pseudo-halfling and his unseen companion emerged onto empty, glistening streets.  It was raining lightly but steadily now, and streetlights reflected a yellowed glow from the rounded surfaces of the paving.  All was quiet around them, except the sound of rain against the stone at their feet.

*Streets of Port Verge (nighttime) – Dragen*

The indifferent Dragen walked on through the cold northern rainfall, seemingly unconcerned with what he left behind.  Several minutes passed, and he turned onto a commercial street about a block away from the waterfront.  After walking past a few cross streets, he came to more dimly illuminated intersection.  Rainwater trickled past his boots through the gutter, running downhill towards the bay.  Looking that direction, he caught the faint sound of agitated movement and shouts coming from an inn on the water’s edge.  The light cast from the front windows flickered on the path as figures swirled quickly within.


[sblock="[Non]combat Information      (same idea)"]Vhir
21 HP
AP 7
_Disguised_

Glasia Domarus
11 HP
AP 7
_Invisible_

Dragen Kessler
37 HP
AP 7

Morika Kevsecks
34 HP
AP 6
_Fitful Drunken Sleep_[/sblock]

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash*

Before the woman even has a chance to regain her footing after Partash’s blow, Doral has a fine wooden wand aimed at her, and he utters the command words to fire.  An unnaturally fast surge of movement hurtled through the crowd towards her, rippling the air as it passed, and pounded her hard in the chest.  She gasped, too breathless this time to curse her attacker, and cringed under the weight of the blow.

Catching sight of his companion’s troubles, the bugbear took a step forward and swung past Carver towards Doral, slashing him across the arm with his longsword.  Simultaneously, so as to not waste a second of time, he reached for his handsome shortsword with his off hand.  The bugbear spun to face Partash for a second attack.  In a fluid motion, the shortsword left its scabbard and sliced upwards towards Partash’s face, but the bugbear miscalculated and the sword only whistled through open space.

As the bugbear reached past Carver to hit his friend, the warforged raised his morningstar high and brought it down towards the bugbear’s rapidly moving body.  Unfortunately, at just that moment, the bugbear reeled from missing Partash and stepped slightly to his side, and Carver’s weapon missed narrowly.

Not to be forgotten, the resilient woman gritted her teeth angrily and drove at her nearest foe, Partash, mercilessly.  Her scimitar arced neatly through the air, but went wild, posing no great threat.  Her attempt only served to draw Partash’s attention back to her, and he swung at her intentionally this time, delivering another cruelly accurate blow.  His mace moved heavily, and collided with her lower jaw, skewing it sickeningly.  Her head and neck cranked back, absorbing the momentum, but she kept her balance and turned her face again to Partash.  Her eyes were filled with complete hatred and rage, but the only sound she could make through her twisted and bleeding mouth was a shriek of pain and frustration.

[sblock="Combat Information"]Doral Kinsman
14 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20
AP 7

Partash
22 HP
AC 16
AP 7
_Minklinked_[/sblock]


----------



## Deuce Traveler (Sep 26, 2006)

Doral grimaced as he was wounded.  He began to wonder if he should stick around for the rest of the fight, but there was the issue of his opponent standing over him ready to slice that changed his mind.  Instead, Doral used his wand to attack the woman once more.


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## James Heard (Sep 26, 2006)

Dragen arched a bushy, scarred brow at the noise, and with a feral smile breaking his lips he happily shoved the oiled wrappings of his bow into a pouch and made his way toward the noise, arrow drawn.

Mentally, Dragen hummed a cheerful little jig, resisting the urge to dance and jump for joy.


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## stonegod (Sep 26, 2006)

The kobold made a quick scan of the area near the Sail and Scepter, making sure it was not being followed. Satisfied, it marched purposely towards the Argotch. There was still a possibility of salvaging the mission, but it would need more hands to complete it. Trusting the girl to follow, she would have to with it holding her familiar, Vhir marched on.


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## MadMaxim (Sep 27, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash*

Seeing as he obviously caught the attention of the scimitar-wielding woman, Partash chooses to play it safe and enhance his own protection through magical means. He takes a step back and utters a small prayer to il-Yannah in Quor. Then he looks straight into the eyes of his assailant. "Can't you see that this act of agression will bring you nothing, woman? Why did you attack us?"

OOC: Partash takes a 5-foot step away from his attackers and casts _shield of faith_ on himself.


----------



## Bront (Sep 27, 2006)

Carver will step between Partash and the bugbear (Should be a 5' step, right?) while he calls uppon his enchantments.

OOC: Defensively casting Bull's Strength on himself.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Sep 30, 2006)

*Streets of Port Verge, (nighttime) – Vhir, Glasia*

The pair began their brisk walk towards the waterfront, confident in their direction.  Still, no one else was seen, and the kobold and young woman could only wonder at what they would find when they rejoined their companions in a few minutes’ time.

[sblock="Noncombat Information"]Vhir
21 HP
AP 7
_Disguised_

Glasia Domarus
11 HP
AP 7
_Invisible_

Morika Kevsecks
34 HP
AP 6
_Fitful Drunken Sleep_[/sblock]

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash*

Resilient, Doral raised his thin wand again and sent another blast hurtling towards the furious woman, cutting her short mid-shriek as the force of the missile pummeled the air from her lungs.  She was unable to regain her breath, and began to sputter and cough, heaving deeply and splattering blood.

The bugbear was now fully aware of the pain the woman was in.  He reached out his arm, waving her behind his impressive form.  He regarded his opponents once more, and then swung forcefully at Partash.  The longsword traced a wide circle, before colliding heavily with the archivist’s side.  His chain shirt very nearly fended off the blow, but some of the worn links burst and the steel blade burrowed in.  The bugbear gave his blade a jerk and wrenched it free, only causing the wound more harm.  Not waiting to see Partash’s reaction, the bugbear moved backwards towards the desk, and raised his freshly reddened longsword and stood waiting for the warforged, smiling wryly.

Forced to helplessly watch these events unfold, Carver moved to shelter his wounded friend, stepping between Partash and his assailant.  Then the warforged worked his precise magic, subtly reshaping his build to imbue himself with new strength with which to finish the fight.  His smooth metal exterior seemed to blur and swirl in the light.  Powerful new metal tendons lifted from the surface of his armor, lacing across his body, more than doubling the power in his motions. 

The woman, still coughing and gasping, contented herself with her companion’s blow to the archivist, and moved behind the bugbear’s back for shelter.  She flung her torn cape over her shoulder and fumbled at her belt for a small glass vial.  She put the end of the blue potion in her mangled mouth as best she could, and tipped back her head to swallow.  Instantly, her coughing stopped, and when she wiped the blood from her mouth, no fresh blood came.

While trying to stop his side from bleeding, Partash prayed to il-Yannah quietly.  The powers answered him, calling up a faint shimmering glow over all his body, shielding him from further blows.


[sblock="Combat Information"]Doral Kinsman
14 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20
AP 7
_Bull’s Strength_

Partash
12 HP
AC 16 + 2
AP 7
_Minklinked
Shield of Faith_

Dragen Kessler
37 HP
AC 16
AP 7[/sblock]

*Outside the Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Dragen*

Dragen made his way quickly and quietly to the water’s edge, striding past a few wary pedestrians avoiding that side of the street.  He drew close enough to the glowing windows to see the scene inside.  He saw then that it was none other than some of his companions, as he had half suspected, fighting a strange pair, surely those same folk Glasia had been so worried about.  As he approached, he watched a large bugbear swing violently and strike Partash, and Carver’s large build move to protect him.  The bugbear was now standing in the open center, but Dragen’s companions were still crowded about the entranceway, forcing him to slow his step and decide more carefully how to aim his arrow.

OOC: Dragen has joined the fighting order, see Combat Information above.


----------



## Bront (Sep 30, 2006)

Carver reaches in to grapple the bugbear with his new found strength.  "Subdue the girl," he calls.

OOC: +7 to hit touch attack, +7 to grapple, but he does provoke an AoO


----------



## James Heard (Sep 30, 2006)

*Outside the Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Dragen*



> Dragen made his way quickly and quietly to the water’s edge, striding past a few wary pedestrians avoiding that side of the street. He drew close enough to the glowing windows to see the scene inside. He saw then that it was none other than some of his companions, as he had half suspected, fighting a strange pair, _surely those same folk Glasia had been so worried about_. As he approached, he watched a large bugbear swing violently and strike Partash, and Carver’s large build move to protect him. The bugbear was now standing in the open center, but Dragen’s companions were still crowded about the entranceway, forcing him to slow his step and decide more carefully how to aim his arrow.



Dragen shrugged, and ignored the motions of his companions, concentrating only on the movements and shadowed outlines of the dead men who challenged them.

"You might want to surrender now, before I get annoyed." he said, letting his eyes light with the simple pleasure of using the bow for his intended purpose. Truly, was there any better feeling in all the world than to feel the rush of the string at your cheek and squash a life with nothing more than the flick of two fingers?

And then, as per instructions, he loosed an arrow at the woman to "subdue" her by launching an arrow at her. The warforged was prone to exaggerated motives and careless speach anyways, and besides, Dragen was not one to shy away from violence when violence clearly had its purpose. Careful? What was a little blood shed between soldiers in battle. Or whatever the warforged possessed instead of blood, the poor bastard. 

Dragen sighed as he readied another arrow, _I was damned to ever worry about this. This is what I was made for. This is my purpose. Wars past, but what was I thinking trying to explain myself to common folk and children? _

_"Folk Glasia had been talking about"? Since when have I been paying attention to a word_* that*_ one said?_ Dragen shook his head. Strange thoughts indeed.


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## stonegod (Oct 1, 2006)

The kobold-cum-halfling kept walking forward, occasionally glancing intently around. What he was looking for was not to be seen, but the halfling disguise's eyes glowed slightly each time. The girl most likely did not know that the negotiator was detecting the aura of her spell, thus keeping track of her. But, whenever he spoke in a soft whisper, it was always just close enough to be heard.

"Your _invisibility_ may not last to much longer, but be prepared for anything when we find our companions. Though we escaped, they may not have. Remember, we must survive first, regardless of cost." 

The hidden kobold kept his pace quick, and approached the dock impatiently.


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## Deuce Traveler (Oct 1, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen*

Doral looks in nervous anticipation when he senses another presence coming through the entrance, but relaxes and is thankful to see his ally approach rather than the enemy.  He fires another blast at the woman with his wand, clearly not interested in subduing her any more than Dragen is.  If he can get through without attracting an AoO, he will run for the stairs and give Morika's door a sharp kick, yelling "Awaken, my friend!  We are under attack!"


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## MadMaxim (Oct 1, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen*

As Partash sees the warforged step between him and the attackers, he mutters a silent prayer to il-Yannah to heal his wounds, so that he can join his companions once again and put an end to the fight.

OOC: Partash casts _cure light wounds_ on himself.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Oct 3, 2006)

OOC:  It's been ruled that Doral can only cast MM _and_ run up the stairs in one round by spending an action point.  Would you still like to go ahead with it?


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## Deuce Traveler (Oct 3, 2006)

OOC: Doral will then only run up the stairs and pound on the door, if able.  If he is unable to do both of those actions in one round, he will instead stay in the fight and use the wand against the woman.


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## Bobitron (Oct 3, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> "Your _invisibility_ may not last to much longer, but be prepared for anything when we find our companions. Though we escaped, they may not have. Remember, we must survive first, regardless of cost."
> 
> The hidden kobold kept his pace quick, and approached the dock impatiently.




Glasia touches Vhir's shoulder lightly to show she heard his warning and continues to follow, running through her inventory of spells in her mind.

_Spells Memorized (x means cast): Detect Magic, Read Magic, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation X, Shield, Mage Armor, Obscuring Mist, Sleep, Shatter, Invisibility X, Scorching Ray_


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## Ringmereth (Oct 6, 2006)

A post is forthcoming. Check back tomorrow.


----------



## Ringmereth (Oct 7, 2006)

Doral, wand still in hand, dashes into the room, skirting around the edge of the room and out of the reach of the bugbear. The thug thrusts his sword out, but quickly withdraws it; he seems to deem defense more valuable than the runaway beguiler. 

Kinsman leaps up the stairs, taking them two and three at once, and is at the upper landing in a moment. A short dash carries him to Morika's quarters. The beguilers knocks and yells, ignoring a distressed elven patron of the Argotch cringing at the sound of the melee downstairs. 

On the other side of the thick door, Morika's mind wades into conciousness, albiet prematurely. As the shifter turns her head to the sealed portal, pangs of agony spark through her head, but the urgency in her companion's voice brings her into an impaired conciousness.

Downstairs, Carver bashes into the vicious bugbear, who attempts to stave him off with a quick sword thrust, only to strike at a obtuse angle, deflecting the blade away and leaving him off-balance as the Warforged grabs the goblinoid's arm in a viselike grip. The two cross morningstar and longsword; with a snarl, the bugbear pushes back at Carver--but the artificer holds his ground and holds the enemy's arm tenaciously.

His beady eyes indicating some surprise, the bugbear killer tries to twist his hand and the shortsword in it into Carver's joints, Muscles shaking, both grapplers struggle over the blade. It haltingly jerks back and forth, waving in short arcs, but for all his foe's effort, Carver's superior hold keeps the little sword at bay.

Partash, heart pounding, utters his prayer, and il-Yannah's healing washes over him like cold, fresh water flowing across his body and his wounds. As quickly as his side was torn, the mangled flesh knits back together. As he looks back into the inn, he notes the woman, still angry as a demon, glaring daggers across the room and trying to find an opening in Carver and the bugbear's struggle to help with a strike of her scimitar. 

"Scrap of tin! Duller'n'a--hhuuhgh..." she screams, first in anger, and second in shock as her epithets are interrupted by a whistling blur over Partash's shoulder that materializes as a long, barbed arrow in the killer's throat. She raises a hand, dropping the scimitar to clatter at her feet, and grasps the mortal wound as air continues to leak from her punctured windpipe and mouth in a terrible wheezing hiss. Blood falls to the floor as she falls to her knees, defeated. Outside the Argotch Inn, the arrow's sender fluidly draws a second arrow; Dragen Kessler has found the fight.

[sblock=Combat Info]
Doral Kinsman
14 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20
AP 7
_Bull’s Strength_
Grappling

Partash
22 HP
AC 16 + 2
AP 7
_Minklinked_
_Shield of Faith_

Dragen Kessler
37 HP
AC 16
AP 7

Morika Kevsecks
34 HP
AC 10 (flat-footed, unarmored)
AP 6
Sickened[/sblock]


----------



## Isida Kep'Tukari (Oct 8, 2006)

_There were drums, drums from the dancers celebrating the victory.  Morika curled up next to the fire, watching her cousins dance, leaping into the air, dancing for victory, for luck, for health and good hunting.  The drumming was infectious, relentless, and soon the young shifter had to join in.  She was only ten years old, but loved every minute of it.  She lept and twirled, spun and twisted, hearing all the drumming, drumming, drumming..._

Drumming.  Pounding.  Someone was pounding at the door.  _Damn your ears and eyes and that of your children unto the fifteenth generation you thick-headed honorless pieces of *dung!*_ Morika snarled mentally as she swam into unwelcome consciousness.  Her head was already pounding with what was certain to be the grandmother of all hangovers, her eyes blurred and felt stuffed with sand, and her mouth was so foul it didn't bear thinking about.  Shuffling over to the door, she yanked it over, murder on her mind.  _If this isn't a life-or-death emergency, they're getting beaten.  And even if it is, I might beat them anyway!_ she thought grouchily as she looked to see who was there.

"*What?*" she snarled, probably looking twice as bad as she actually felt.


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## stonegod (Oct 8, 2006)

The kobold was impatient. It was slowed by this cursed cage he was forced to carry, a burden that rightfully belonged to his invisible tail. Occasionally it may have entertained the thought of leaving it behind, but no outward sign of that was visible. But a few time it made cross halfling eyes at the few common folks which crossed their hurried paths. Anyone who saw those eyes felt uncomfortable, and quickly picked up their pace. 

_They better be there. I am *not* in the mood to have to find them._


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## Deuce Traveler (Oct 8, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen*

With his own blood up, Doral ignores Morika's angry question and simply says in between gasps of breath, "To... arms... for battle..."

That said, he runs back down the stairs, using his spell, _Whelm,_ on the bugbear if he is able.

OOC: After seeing Partash go non-lethal, I'd like to have a bugbear for questioning, too.


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## James Heard (Oct 8, 2006)

*Outside the Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Dragen*

Words had no meaning. Sounds outside him were dull and unimportant.

_Thump, da-Thump_, Two beats of his heart. The bowstring was primed. Dragen exhaled and blinked. Somewhere ahead of him, the metal man clung to his attacker.

Here a peek, there a peek. The moments became patterns. The patterns wove themselves into the intricate dance of his heart within his chest. Here a peek, there a peek, here an ear, there a shoulder, the back of its hand danced into view.

Here a peek, there a...a swift motion from his navel to his neck to drawn in a quick breath of air, as quickly released as the two fingers upon the string, dancing backwards in a practiced arc to gather another softly feather shaft and pull it free like a hawk diving for a rabbit in a field, pulling its prey upwards to rest upon the caloused forefinger of the opposite hand, lifting upward just so to clear the distance of the shaft on the next release.

Dragen was sure that the arc of each arrow slowed in time before it hit, but he had long passed craning his head to worry over the lick of each polished and sharpened tip. Bugbears were soft, and soft things died for Dragen more easily than harder things. 

_Thump, da-Thump_. Between heartbeats, Dragen drew back the bowstring to take another life.

_So like a god, I whisper out and a life ends._ Dragen smiled, truly at peace.

OOC: Dragen shoots. Dragen has Precise Shot, eliminating any normal penalties for firing into melee. If the target has cover for some reason, barring total cover, Dragen has Sharp-Shooting, which reduces their cover to +2. He's not yet going into Rapid Shot, because I don't want him chancing a total -4 modifier to his attacks and missing. After he fires, Dragen will take a five foot step in any direction that doesn't smack him into a wall, off a ledge, or within reach of an obvious combatant.


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## MadMaxim (Oct 8, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen*

_By the ancestral spirits!_ As the arrow flies past his head, Partash is hit with a sense of panic, realizing that he was mere moments from having his skull penetrated by that arrow. As the female attacker falls to the ground, he can't help feeling a little disgusted and a little sorry for her. _May the gods have mercy on your soul..._

Then Partash gets torn out of his thoughts as he hears the bugbear grunt and struggle to get out of Carver's grib. He raises his heavy mace and tries to bludgeon the creature into unconciousness.

OOC: Partash tries to strike the grappling bugbear for nonlethal damage.


----------



## Isida Kep'Tukari (Oct 8, 2006)

Morika growls loudly at Doral, and the beast spirit within her rises.  She crouches down, a roar ripping from her throat as horns emerge from her skull and her muscles bulge with power.  A feral gleam enters her eyes as she allows the green power to flow through her, then she springs down the stairs, aiming for the first hostile creature attacking one of her traveling companions.

OOC: Free action, shifting.  Swift action, casting _shifter prowess_ (RoE pg. 190).  If possible, move action by charging (Jump +13) to nearest hostile, then attack: Gore charge +9 (2d6+6/x2, B).  If she can't reach a hostile this round, then she just moves to get into a position to do so next round.


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## Bront (Oct 10, 2006)

Carver will attempt to pin the Bugbear.

OOC: Dragen, the Bugbear and Carver are grappling, so firing into that would be bad.  Not sure who else is around to fight with the girl biting it.


----------



## Dark_Jackalope (Oct 13, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen, Morika*

A terrible and unexpected bellow came from the upper hallway, as Morika’s entire body convulsed and then constricted in a fluid movement.  Her muscles rippling momentarily as her body swelled to a mold of brutish strength even greater than her usual form.  Dark and deadly-curved horns grew up form her wild hair, the final touch to her transformation.

Doral sprinted panting back to the stairs and rushed down. His hand caught the banister at the foot of the steps and clenched tightly, and he began to speak the words of his enchantment.  Focusing intently on the bugbear, all the other swirling movement faded from his thoughts, as he forced the spell into the bugbear’s mind.  The creature subtly checked back his actions, seeming to take on a new weariness through no apparent physical cause.  He wrestled well against his metal foe, but the edge in his eyes was lacking now.

Morika leapt from her crouch, and pounded down the narrow hallway on clawed feet.  She reached out and caught the wall at the end of the corridor, which opened onto a landing overlooking the lobby, preventing her momentum form carrying her all the way to the staircase.

Two heavy forms struggled in the center of the room, both of them heaving and straining against the other’s force.  The bugbear wrenched hard at his arm and tried to regain a better grasp on his sword with the other, but he was unable to free himself from the adamantine grip.  Carver pressed him harder, trying to twist his body towards the ground.  The bugbear shuffled sideways, arching his back and pulling his body out from under Carver’s crushing form.  Still, the warforged doggedly kept his hold, and the two remained locked in combat.

The bugbear had not, however, anticipated Partash’s response when he pulled away from Carver’s attempt to pin him down, and the archivist used this most fortunate opportunity to thrust the butt of his mace handle into the bugbear’s skull.  He felt it connect squarely with the bugbear’s head, and the bugbear loosed a responding roar of confusion and anger.

Morika used the momentum from her charge down the hall to swing easily up onto the banister, where she paused only for a fraction of a second to assess the situation below, picking out the clear target in the knot.

Dragen also studied the combat in the middle of the room, and as soon as he saw the bugbear step slightly away from Carver’s body, his fingers moved to loose his arrow.  Yet even as the feathers slid past the string, he saw an unexpected factor move into place: Partash stepped quickly towards the bugbear, also to make use of the opening.

A bold cry issued from above as Morika unfolded her muscles and launched from the balcony, soaring towards the planked floor.  She impacted the ground, sending a deep shudder across the floorboards, dropping into a crouch to keep her balance.  She tipped her eyes up towards the tangle before her, only half noticing Partash jump back hastily to narrowly avoid Dragen’s wayward arrow.  She braced her muslces, and hardly stopping to regain her wind from the landing, single-mindedly hurtled her entire body forwards headfirst, her deadly horns flying towards the bugbear’s unsuspecting back.

The bugbear’s armor resisted her charge, but the collision was magnificent, and both horns tore through hardened leather and found flesh.  The force pushed both of them forward, knocking the bugbear into Carver, whose study stance broke their momentum.  The now thoroughly besieged bugbear yelled and shook from startled pain, and twisted away before the shifter’s horns could burrow in.  Morika staggered sideways, her fluid movement broken, and her horns wet with blood.


[sblock="Combat Information"]Doral Kinsman
14 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20
AP 7
_Bull’s Strength_

Partash
22 HP
AC 16 + 2
AP 7
_Minklinked
Shield of Faith_

Dragen Kessler
37 HP
AC 16
AP 7

Morika Kevsecks
34 HP
AC 12  _[no armor and shield]_
AP 6
_Shifted
Sickened_[/sblock]


----------



## Bront (Oct 13, 2006)

Caver attempts to crush his foe, and bring him to unconsiousness.

OOC: Grapple for Nonlethal damage.  He did get his damage in the first round, right?


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## Deuce Traveler (Oct 15, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen, Morika*

_"Damn... just damn..." _ Doral thinks to himself as he watches his allies slam into the bugbear.  If they wanted to make this a quiet operation, such a plan was surely ruined now.  Gathering his wits he cast another _whelm_ at his foe.  A live but weakened prisoner may be a worthwhile source of intelligence at this juncture.  He also moves over the body of the sleeping man he knocked out earlier, so that he may cut his throat the next round.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Oct 16, 2006)

Morika grinned at the bugbear, her face obscenely happy under her nausea.  Casting around for something hard and portable to use for a weapon, Morika will grab a chair to smash the bugbear over the head with.

OOC: If there's a chair or something in range, she'll grab that to use an as improvised weapon.  If not, she'll back up to be ready to charge next round with her horns.


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## MadMaxim (Oct 17, 2006)

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen, Morika*

"Fall you foul villain..." Partash mutters under his breath as he keeps raising his mace to strike the bugbear.


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## James Heard (Oct 24, 2006)

Dragen sighed. 

Resigned to doing nothing important in the fight by the actions of his fellow party members, Dragen instead directed his arrows at the fallen, beginning to methodically shoot them to make certain they were dead.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Oct 25, 2006)

*Streets of Port Verge (nighttime) – Vhir, Glasia*

Vhir and Glasia press on quickly through the wet night, the determined kobold leading them through the dark streets towards the other inn with a thoughtless ease.  Almost as soon as they left the main boulevard, the young woman noticed her form was becoming visible again.  She was at first a mere trace under the light of the streetlamps they were striding past, but the spell faded quickly and she soon returned to full visibility.  Without time to stop, Vhir led them around two more corners, and the glow of the Argotch Inn came into view at the end of the street by the docks.

A few people had gathered on the wet paving stones across from the inn windows, by the look of them would-be patrons of the adjoining bar.  They seemed to be hesitantly assessing the movement within.  As a young girl and an annoyed-looking halfling approached, they quickly looked nervously about and then continued on their way up the street and back into the dark city, as if they had seen nothing.

*Argotch Inn, Port Verge (nighttime) – Doral, Carver, Partash, Dragen, Morika*

Pausing only momentarily to witness Morika’s startling entrance, Doral resumed his focus on the careful words of his incantation.  Once again the struggling bugbear’s mind yielded to Doral’s spell, further breaking his resolve against the warforged.  Seeing that his spell had done its work, the beguiler slipped quietly towards the sleeping man on the floor near the desk.

In a surge of retaliation to Doral’s unseen assault and to the slowly winning warforged, the bugbear let loose a growl of haughty defiance.  This time he purposefully locked arms with his metallic foe, and pulled Carver’s abdomen downwards to meet his swiftly approaching knee.  Nevertheless, the bugbear’s attempt to knee Carver and escape was in vain, and his kneecap rang loudly against Carver’s sturdy adamantine armor.  He loosed a small string of unintelligible curses and clenched his teeth, tenderly dropping pulling his leg back to shield his wounded knee.

Carver, however, would not allow such an opportunity to pass, and he unflinchingly kicked the bugbear.  Sure enough, an adamantine boot made contact with the bugbear’s leg, shattering his kneecap.  The bugbear held none back in his ensuing cry of pain, now well beyond words.

The others made short work of him.  Partash thrust the blunt wooden handle of his mace into the bugbear’s hard skull again, pushing him down towards the ground forcefully.  The bugbear’s scream was reduced to a deep and guttural howl.  Then Morika followed suit with lovely wrought-iron candelabra she found by the stairs.  The smoke from the five candles, which extinguished as she swung, traced a wide circle through the air, and the curling ironwork left a near-perfect impression copied onto his forehead.

The bugbear’s last groans quieted as the warrior fell unconscious, emitting only a faint rasping breath.  Everyone else stopped, their minds and bodies momentarily subdued in that moment of suspended time that follows every intense fight.  Yet seemingly immune to such effects, Dragen strode casually over to the fallen woman, peered down at her faintest dying breaths, and coolly put another arrow through her throat.

The quick thud broke the silence, and marked the end of their first battle together as a group.  Before anyone could move or speak, however, there was a sudden rush of motion as the terrified goblin darted out from behind the front desk and sprinted for the front door.

“By the gods, in my own inn!”  He swung open his door, and then nearly ran into a halfling who was hurrying in.  Argotch stopped momentarily to stare in confusion at his new guests, before yelling emotively at the halfling, “In my own inn!” and continuing on into the rain.

There was another pause as the newcomers looked over the wreckage and blood smears that were once an inn lobby.  Only Partash could see through Vhir’s guise and recognize him immediately, though Doral quickly figured formed a guess that it was him by his slightly odd and familiar posture and gait.


[sblock="Final Combat Info"]Doral Kinsman
14 HP
AC 17
AP 7
_Mindlinked_

Carver Banderelli
33 HP
AC 20
AP 7
_Bull’s Strength_

Partash
22 HP
AC 16 + 2
AP 7
_Minklinked
Shield of Faith_

Dragen Kessler
37 HP
AC 16
AP 7

Morika Kevsecks
34 HP
AC 12  _[no armor or shield]_
AP 6
_Shifted
Sickened_

Vhir
21 HP
AP 7
_Disguised_

Glasia Domarus
11 HP
AP 7[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Oct 25, 2006)

"Hello kobold," Doral says to the 'halfling' without emotion as he bends over, takes out his knife, and slits the throat of the trident-wielding, unconscious warrior. As he goes through the man's belongings for anything of interest or value, he adds, "Do you think you can quickly interrogate the bugbear for where are target is located?  Maybe we can salvage this wreck of a mission, though I'm still contemplating how we'll escape this place."


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## Bront (Oct 25, 2006)

Carver rises again, grabing his morningstar and shield and putting them away.  "Doral, Parlinor, are you ok?  It appears my attempt to neutralize the bugbear seems to have been successfull.  I hope I didn't break him beyond repair."


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Oct 25, 2006)

Morika whirls at Doral's words, blinking heavily at the sight of a halfling instead of a kobold.  Within her her beast spirit raged, telling her to reduce the bugbear to his fundemental parts with only her bare hands, to bash him to red paste, to paint the ceiling with his blood...  Through her aching head Morika took several large breaths, and with a convulsive shudder, let her beast spirit retire to within her breast again.

"Doral... that's a halfling..." she finally managed to get out, trying to point out the obvious.  Now that the song of battle no longer played in her blood, her hangover was reexerting itself with a vengence and all she wanted to do was sleep right here on the bloody pub floor.


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## stonegod (Oct 25, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> "Hello kobold," Doral says to the 'halfling' without emotion as he bends over, takes out his knife, and slits the throat of the trident-wielding, unconscious warrior. As he goes through the man's belongings for anything of interest or value, he adds, "Do you think you can quickly interrogate the bugbear for where are target is located?  Maybe we can salvage this wreck of a mission, though I'm still contemplating how we'll escape this place."



The newcomer did not immediately address Doral's question, instead looking around the wreckage of the inn. He quickly put down his cursed burden of a cage, not looking back at the tremulous girl that had followed him. A wry, "I see you made it out as well" was directed at the bowman, but he said nothing else for a moment, staring intently around. [Vhir _detects magic_ and peers about the fallen.]



			
				Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> "Doral... that's a halfling..." she finally managed to get out, trying to point out the obvious.



The 'halfling' smirked. "Oh, indeed, dear shifter. Nothing more than a wretched halfling." Getting back to business, the 'halfling' rubbed his chin, his devious mind working quickly. "Now, we can interrogate the prisoner, but we will need a safe place to do so. That cursed goblin is probably getting the watch right now. Dragen may be able to put an arrow into him before he gets that far, but it may be best to fade into the night instead of drawing more attention to ourselves. Anyone have suggestions of where we should hole up? Construct, you have a residence nearby, correct?"


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## Bobitron (Oct 25, 2006)

Glasia lets the enchantment fall from around her where she stands outside as she hears the group start to discuss the plans. Entering the room, she reaches out and takes the cage from Vhir with a smile and nod of thanks.

"So long as Carver isn't so well known that inquiries might lead those we seek to hide from straight to us, that should work nicely," she suggests.

Looking around the room, she seems to notice the state of the inn. "So much blood..." Eyes wide, she looks to her companions. "Is anybody hurt? I have potions that can help heal."


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## Bront (Oct 26, 2006)

"I couldn't bring people to my shop after Bim died when I tried, so I think they must have forgotten about it," Carver says.


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## James Heard (Oct 26, 2006)

Dragen shrugs at the kobold's words and nods.

"Goblins are slightly more sturdy than kobolds, but they die more or less just as easily." He turned to look at the warforged.

"You. Do not do what you did in this fight again. When you grab your enemy you become an equal target to your opponent no matter how skilled I am with my weapon. The gods, in their infinite capriciousness and evil, have decreed that skill is not the arbiter of war once someone grabs someone. Then, and only then, chance only takes hold. Only do this thing when in a shield line, grab hold of your opponent and no matter how many arrows rain down like crows to feast upon you, chance might save you, as two sides of a coin. The ancient giants of lore themselves could not do any better without the most precise of training, nothing less than a single technique in all the worlds of gods and men is enough to overcome this handicap." Dragen made a grumbling sound in his throat.

"If you continue to do such things then there is no point to my presence. As it stands now the only thing keeping me in such unpleasant company as some of these is the payment in coin I have received. Understand, I tell you this not harshly, but only because it is truth." he said, spreading his hands in explanation.

"Now, if someone besides the cave beast would care to tell me who this dead flesh belongs to, how their throats came to smile for your blades, and why you killed them; I would be very pleased."


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## Bront (Oct 26, 2006)

James Heard said:
			
		

> "You. Do not do what you did in this fight again. When you grab your enemy you become an equal target to your opponent no matter how skilled I am with my weapon. The gods, in their infinite capriciousness and evil, have decreed that skill is not the arbiter of war once someone grabs someone. Then, and only then, chance only takes hold. Only do this thing when in a shield line, grab hold of your opponent and no matter how many arrows rain down like crows to feast upon you, chance might save you, as two sides of a coin. The ancient giants of lore themselves could not do any better without the most precise of training, nothing less than a single technique in all the worlds of gods and men is enough to overcome this handicap." Dragen made a grumbling sound in his throat.



"At the time, you were not in combat, and he was the biggest danger to my friends," Carver explains.  "Once I grappled him, it made him an easier target for those next to me, and kept him from attacking anyone else.  I am more resistant to damge than they are, so such action seemed prudent.  I did not mean to marginalize your skill with a bow."


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## James Heard (Oct 26, 2006)

The archer dismissed the explanation with a gesture.

"Unimportant. I speak as much to curse the devils that call themselves Man's masters as anything else, and the more urgent question is still unanswered. Who are they, and why did you kill them?"

"I am assuming, of course, that it wasn't some simple fancy to spill blood."


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## MadMaxim (Oct 26, 2006)

Partash breathes heavily after the fight and realizes that he's not fit for this. He's obviously used to sitting behind a desk reading forbidden lore. He replies to the concerned warforged: "Don't worry about me, Carver. I'm fine, all things considered. My prayers were heard and my wounds have been healed." He feels slightly sick to his stomach when sees all the corpses lying around and puts a hand in front of his mouth.

When Carver and Dragen start arguing, he walks over to Dragen and pads him on the shoulder. "Excellent shooting, archer. But next time you might want to signal your arrival instead of just starting to shoot and be so close to putting one of your arrows through my skull." He walks into the street and looks up and down it to make sure that the attackers don't have any extra backup coming. Then he concentrates a little to get in contact with Doral:

_Doral. I believe we have to get out of here, before any possible reinforcements arrive. We survived this time, but who knows whether we'll do that the next time? Either way, we've been exposed and have to get to a safe place so that we can question the bugbear."_


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## James Heard (Oct 26, 2006)

"You're mistaken. I was never anywhere near putting any arrow into you for any reason. If it seemed to be so, it must have been from the excitement of not attempting to notice that I was there in first place - which I trust you realize would have been a rather poorer outcome if I were in aid of the people you attacked?"

"This is still not telling me what is going on though. I assure you all, I await with baited breath to hear the exciting and interesting tale that led to dead people on the floor here."


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## stonegod (Oct 26, 2006)

James Heard said:
			
		

> "This is still not telling me what is going on though. I assure you all, I await with baited breath to hear the exciting and interesting tale that led to dead people on the floor here."



The 'halfling' pauses to look at the bowman, then continues his examination of magical auras, removing each magical item he finds.

"As the wizard was to tell you before you left prematurely, news of our arrival here has been leaked to the Prince. He sent these to 'deal with' this half of the party; another is most likely on the way to our suites if they are not already there." The odd halfling then gestures in the vague direction of the warforged and the druid. "One of you pick up our captive so we can get out of here to Carver's. I suggest we all get out the back. As the others have pointed out, we have little time."


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## James Heard (Oct 27, 2006)

"I see. So, the government sent someone to arrest you all, and you killed them."

"Good to know, for the next time when some pompous know-it-all deigns to chastise me for possessing a knack for violence. At least I show up during the battle, and not afterwards just in time to tell everyone else to move the bodies."

"I'm going to go somewhere where I can protect you all from yourselves better, and not listen to the pious and offended tell everyone where to mop..

Dragen exits the back door of the building, scans the area for any obvious signs of trouble coming, and if he sees none, begins to look around the streets and buildings for a position where he can observe the rest of the party better as they try to figure out where they're taking the captive peace officer and take on threats to them with as much distance and cover/concealment possible. If they begin to make their way out of that range, he'll spend alternate rounds leapfrogging behind them from position to position, to either cover their advance or rear.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Oct 27, 2006)

"Halfling... you're not... you're... what?" Morika manages to get out, her mind clearly not working very clearly.  "If... more coming to kill us... have my blessing if they shop... stop my head hurting... go sleep... now..." The shifter woman slumps down on the stairs, clutching her head with her hands, trying to keep her brains inside her skull.  "Head... split like melon... melon... ooo... urk..."


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## Deuce Traveler (Oct 27, 2006)

Doral looked up from his bloody work and stared at Partash, a grimace of disgust on his face.  He never enjoyed murder, but at times it was necessary lest a vengeful enemy turn up at the worst of times.  _"Agreed.  At the very least, we need to get out of here and hide away or else risk a blood bath.  It seems the law in this town are nothing to be trifled with, and we are not ones to go down quietly ourselves."_

Doral wiped his blade clean off the clothes of his victim and strode quietly between Dragen and Vhir in order to stop their argument before the archer walked out.  His words weren't directed towards them, however.  "Carver, grab the bugbear as our fried suggested, please, and lead us toward your old home.  And thank you for a job well done."

He then turned towards Dragen and watched him leave thinking, _"So helpful, yet so dangerous to this mission.  What to do about that one..."_

Turning towards Morika he says, "I'm sorry, but we need to move.  Are you together enough to watch our backs?  I plan to hang back and see if anyone follows us, myself.  The rest can take the center of our spread out column."

Staring at the 'halfling', he nods in welcome and adds, "I think a certain individual would be most affected at twisting the bugbear's mind for information when we are in the clear?"

He inadvertantly thinks for a moment, _"I don't know if I can hold this group together.  Are we meant to succeed or just to be a distraction?  I honestly don't know how we are going to get out of this one.  Perhaps this group is doomed and I should..."_ Doral stops himself, not sure if Partash can hear his thoughts.  He makes an effort to clear his mind once more.

He leaves out the back with the party, although he takes the rear in order to keep an eye out for danger.


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## Bront (Oct 27, 2006)

Carver easily hoists the body up of the bugbear, "Follow me."

He leads them to his and Bim's old shop.


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## stonegod (Oct 27, 2006)

The halfling shrugs at the bowman's 'concerns' about 'the law,' and holds back a smirk as Doral 'took control' of the situation. _My words from another's mouth always seem to be better received. Good thing that is the way I like it._ 

As they leave the building, the halfling takes to the center of the group, right in front of one of the warriors. He had plans in case they were all discovered. The rest of the group would not like it, but survival was survival.


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## Bobitron (Oct 27, 2006)

Glasia lingers with the diguised kobold, curious to see what he is staying behind to do.

"Can I help you, Vhir?"


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## stonegod (Oct 27, 2006)

OOC: Vhir is not staying behind, he's clumping in the middle with the rest of the group, making sure he is in-front of/near one of their warrior types (possibly Morika).


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Oct 27, 2006)

"Bu.. er... meh," Morika finally manages to get out, and tromps upstairs and down again swiftly, this time hauling along her backpack and a particularly grumpy expression.  "Where e're we en' up, goin' seep one we ge' ter..." she says to the others in a sentence that's _almost_ comprehensible.  Hand closed on iron candelabra she had used to knock the bugbear unconscious (she apparently forgot the drop it), she tromps out with the others, bloodshot eyes firmly convinced she's in some kind of nightmare.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Oct 29, 2006)

*Argotch Inn and Back Streets, Port Verge (nighttime) – everyone*

[sblock="Doral:"]As the others discussed the situation, Doral crouched on the bloodied floor and quickly searched over the man, who until a moment ago had been sleeping peacefully.  Besides the breastplate and the masterworked trident he had been wielding, he also had a light crossbow strapped to his back.  Further examination yielded only ten bolts for his crossbow, an assortment of coins worth 67 gold, and a simple necklace, just a shark’s tooth on a black cord.[/sblock]
The group somewhat tiredly lifted themselves from the dirtied room and followed Dragen’s exit towards the back.  They passed through the door behind the goblin’s front desk and through a narrow wooden hall with cramped storage rooms branching off of it.  As they walked, they filed into a narrow line, Carver’s sturdy silhouette with the bugbear over his shoulder leading the way.  In his shadow walked the out of place looking ‘halfing’, accompanied by the uneasy looking young wizard and her caged hawk.  After them, the kind archivist was assisting Morika move along despite her powerful headache, and Doral took up the rear to keep watch.

They spilled quietly into the service alley, where a wretched looking stay dog growled in surprise but mercifully did not bark.  They marched along in near silence, their feet somberly lightly splashing the puddles underfoot.  In the alley, the rain seemed to run and drip off buildings more than fall form the skies, creating a constant chatter of running, dripping, and slashing water.

Carver peered around the corner before venturing into the cross street, one of those which ran parallel to the waterfront.  There seemed to still be more people gathering at the inn’s front, though at this point it only seemed to be curious and worried neighbors and patrons of the pub.  Deciding that none of the observers were paying any attention to the cross street and the service alley, Carver led the group across and over slightly into another alley, trying to be inconspicuous despite having a battered and unconscious bugbear over his shoulder.

Dragen, who had found a place to observe the group from within the service alley, watched them file across the street and head for another alleyway, and then moved to follow unnoticed from a distance.

The various spells that had been working on the travelers faded one by one as they walked through Port Verge.  The cool rain felt good on their sore bodies, however, serving to sooth the burn of wounds and tired muscles.  Carver led them with a comforting precision, and in this way, the procession made its way north through alleys and small back streets, trying to quickly and casually cross those streets upon which other people walked.  Though there weren’t many people out on this cold and wet northern night, they still encountered the occasional partially drunk sailor or hurried townsfolk.  It didn’t seem as if the local law enforcement had caught up with them yet, however the sight of the warforged carrying a bugbear over his shoulder was still a suspicious one.  They also didn’t dare slow down, lest the Prince’s men be on their heels, and discover where they were planning to hide.

After a while, as they approached the wealthier districts higher on the hillside, they came to a broad and brightly lit boulevard which stood between them and the district in which Carver’s shop stood.  The line of travelers stopped at the corner of the narrow side street they had been walking along, hesitantly looking out across the brightly glistening wet pavement.

A little way up the street, there was a crowd of people, finely dressed and mingling about under the awning in front of an upscale looking theater.  It appeared to be a group of nobles and other prominent members of society leaving after tonight’s performance.  As if to confirm this theory, a two-horse carriage came trotting past the group’s side street at a smart pace and stopped beside the crowd, allowing one of the couples to get in.

As they watched, the traffic of carriages began picking up, and a team of law enforcement officials appeared to direct traffic, and keep an eye on this valuable crowd and protect them from pickpockets.  Judging by the somewhat large quantity of officials, unless the Prince usually keeps high security around the theatrical performances, they might well also have been sent to watch for the ‘spies’ said to be at large.

The end of the performance seemingly could not have come at a worse time, and time seemed to be running out before they were noticed and finding shelter in this area became impossible.


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## MadMaxim (Oct 29, 2006)

*Argotch Inn and Back Streets, Port Verge (nighttime) – everyone*

Partash slowly lets go of Morika and silently approaches Doral. "What should we do now, Doral?" He whispers. "Most of my prayers won't do us any good right now, so I was hoping that you might have something up your sleeve for this kind of situation? We need to either disguise ourselves like our little 'halfling' here or distract the city guards somehow."


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## stonegod (Oct 29, 2006)

In the shadow, the 'halfling' keeps an eye on the distant crowd attempting to judge distance. He let the others try to reason out a way, but his mind was quickly at work. He mentions casually, "Does the fog usually come in at this time of night?" with a pointed glance at Glasia.

OOC: Few things. First, Did Vhir's _detect magic_ find anything on the corpses/bugbear? Second, since _disguise self_ is 10 min per level, should has its 40min passed? Finally, how far away is the awning with the aristoracts. It is within 30'? If not, how far?


----------



## Deuce Traveler (Oct 29, 2006)

Doral pockets the 67 gold pieces worth of coins, and the simple necklace after his companion casts _detect magic_ on it and some of the other items.  He'll share the goods later.

Later, the beguiler pulls up behind the group as the party considers how to get around the crowd below.

"Does the fog usually come in at this time of night?" Vhir asked.

"It does now," Doral answered, and cast _obscuring mist_ at the close edge of the crowd.  Once the spell was finished he turned towards Carver and asked, "My friend, can you get us around another way or is our situation so desperate that we must hide in the nearest alley?"  The half-joke, makes Doral ponder his choices, and he looks for any sign of a local sewer access.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Oct 30, 2006)

"Hide 'forged... bugbear... don't carry... stand him up... make him look drunk.  We can stagger 'cross stree', I'm no goo' fer mush else.  Jus buncha drunks goin' home..." Morika manages to get out, remembering, at least a little, that most don't look at drunkards as a matter of course.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Oct 30, 2006)

OOC to Vhir: First, there was no trace of any magic on either of the fallen bodies, and though the bugbear doesn't count as fallen, I guess it's fair enough to mention that his longsword bears a faint glow, and he also has on him three potions, two of which are identical. Second, as mentioned, all the spells acting on the group have now faded, including the 'halfing' disguise. Third, the theatre is, to be precise, three buildings down from their side street, or roughly 150 feet. (Sorry for not mentioning that one earlier.)


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## Bront (Oct 30, 2006)

Carver shrugs, not realy use how carrying a drunk man is different from carrying someone else who's unconsious.  He'll try to accomidate for anyone willing to help him though.  "He's getting heavy.  My enchantment is worn off."


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## Ringmereth (Oct 31, 2006)

I note here that Warforged don't get tired, so if you're able to lift the bugbear at all, it's no particular effort to keep doing so all night.


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## Bobitron (Oct 31, 2006)

ooc: Sorry stone, misread that.

Glasia does her best to fit in with her companions, but she notes that however they bunch up she always ends up walking a step behind the group. _Ah well,_ she thinks. _I'm not here to make friends,_ she decides firmly.

Holding the cage to her face, Glasia quietly speaks to her familiar. "Watch for any who would delay us," the wizard asks in a whisper to the bird. "Yes, I'm sorry, dearest, I know you don't like the rain." Opening the cage she carries, she lifts her arm to send Cloudchaser aloft into the rain-soaked air.


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## James Heard (Nov 3, 2006)

Far behind the party, observing them, Dragen waits impatiently for the group to continue moving.


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## Bront (Nov 4, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> I note here that Warforged don't get tired, so if you're able to lift the bugbear at all, it's no particular effort to keep doing so all night.



OOC: Yes, I'm aware of that, but he'll get noticably heavier when Carver's strength drops 4 points, even if he can still carry him.


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## stonegod (Nov 8, 2006)

With the fog up and their possible pursuers out of sight, the kobold began to scurry ahead towards the warforged's shop. "Quickly," it hissed. "This won't last long. We best hope that they do not know of our hideout."


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## Bront (Nov 8, 2006)

Carver leads the way as best he can.


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## MadMaxim (Nov 9, 2006)

Partash follows close behind the warforged.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Nov 10, 2006)

*Streets of Port Verge (nighttime) – Everyone*

The beguiler quickly and quietly worked his craft, sending a chill pale cloud pouring into the well-lit street.  A lone hawk beat its wings and emerged from the mist, the vapor playing over its white feathers, almost making it appear to be a mere phantom.

The cold air and wet grounds aided the spread of the mist, as it slowly spread out like thick batter onto a pan.  Though the fog did not extend far enough to nudge at the ankles of the theatergoers, a few of the curious ones had diverted their attention it its abrupt appearance from the alley a little ways up the street.  The police forces that had been floating near the crowd took notice as well, and at a nod from the captain two officers began to stride leisurely towards the fog.

At this moment, a rather small and oddly shaped figure darted out of the fog on the opposite side of the street from where the fog had spread from, walking as quickly as it could and disappearing abruptly into an alleyway.  One of the officers turned to the other unsurely, and they craned their necks around to see if their commander had seen the figure.  The captain, however, was preoccupied, awkwardly chatting with some of the wealthy patrons still waiting of earthier carriages to arrive.

The two officers quickly turned again to the fog.  They heard distinct metal splashes and rings on the wet paving stones, and the high ring of rain hitting hollow metal plating. Either someone in full armor was crossing the mists next, or it was one of the few warforged in Port Verge.  The two officers hesitantly resumed walking towards the silvery cloud, their hands now read to draw their weapons.  In the thin swirls at the end of the cloud, there slowly manifested a large shadow.  At the edge of the mist, the mass solidified into what appeared a sturdily built figure helping a friend so drunk or ill he could no longer walk.  However, they too quickly disappeared into an alley.

The sharp northern wind that so often cut through the hillside town stirred up for a short second, flicking rain in the officers’ faces.  They were now hurrying towards mist and the alley the figures had disappeared into.

Just as they couldn’t see into the unnatural fog, those crossing within it could not see the officers approaching.  The two men were only fifteen feet away when another pair made the quick dash from the end of the mist into the alley.  It was yet another pair, with one helping the other along.  This time, however, the officers had the chance to notice that these were no wandering drunkards: both the figures were well armed.

Doubts removed, the two guardsmen rushed forward now.  Suddenly, a frightful shrill cry came form above, and a flash of sleek white dropped towards the two men.  The white hawk pulled out of its dive in front of the officers, crying in alarm, beating its wings at the air between the men and the fog.  The bird’s fear and haste coursed magically through empty space, and into the mind of its master.  From within the fog came the sound of a quick gasp and running footsteps, and a young girl burst out of the cloud, tugging at a young half-elf’s arm to be sure he hurried after.

One of the guardsmen drew his sword, and charged past the distressed bird and towards the alleyway.  At that moment, however, there came the sharp sound of horses’ hooves kicking at pavement, and the snap of a crop as a carriage driver urged his balking horses through the fog towards the theater.

“Watch ‘er!” the second officer called out, and the first one quickly pushed himself up against the brick wall of the building as the large black carriage materialized from the mists and came bursting past them.  Water sprayed up from the wheels, and the horse-driver called out commands in attempt to slow his team back into a dignified trot.  The two officers glanced at each other, then quickly made for the alley down which the band of figures had disappeared.  Suddenly, out of the mists themselves flew an arrow, clacking against the brick near the officers’ heads.  The shot had flown wild, as any sent through the mist is probable to do, but it was enough for the two officers to turn and dive into the cloud, determining that whomever had loosed the arrow was a greater threat.

Dragen, though he had been keeping well behind, watched his companions run into the fog, and then heard Cloudchaser’s warning scream.  Unfortunately, he had to abandon his previous intents to defend the group, lest he loose them completely on their way to Bim’s old shop.  Coolly backtracking and taking another route through the streets, he quickly lost the guardsmen, and within a few more minutes he caught sight of the group yet again.

They walked with great haste through the cold night, following Carver on a convoluted path of streets and alleys.  By the time their hearts settled and the immediate danger passed, they had come to a very quiet part of the city.  It seemed to be almost entirely shops, with a few dark apartments on upper stories.  Though the occasional light seeped through gaps in window shutters, most of the buildings were well shut against the wet chill this night, and those who lived inside them were remaining comfortably in their homes.

After one last left turn, Carver came at last to a stop at the door of a moderately sized shop.  A sign dripped over the door that read “Banderelli Artifice and Alchemical“, though it was hard to see anything in the duty shop windows by night.  The warforged set the still-unconscious bugbear gently down on the pavement, and unlocked the steel door.  He stepped inside and lit the closest lamp.  The rest of the group filed silently in, dripping muddy rainwater onto the dusty floorboards of the shop.  A small distance away, Dragen watched them at last arrive at their shelter.


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## stonegod (Nov 10, 2006)

In the shadowy light, the kobold's eyes glinted, red and purple, red and purple. It make a quick glance about the shop, keeping an eye out for hidden dangers and lurking spies. Once it is secure in the knowledge of their safety, it turns to its companions.

"The guards are sure to be antsy. Best we do this quick. We will need someone to bind that thing"---the kobold gestured dissuasively at the unconscious minotaur---"and then Partash will need to heal it back to wakefulness." Rounding on the the construct, Vhir continued, "I will need a means of enlarging my size or decrease its---fear works best if the primal fears of the predator consume it. Do you have the means?"


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## Bront (Nov 10, 2006)

"I have a potion of enlarge, but it won't last very long," Carver says.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Nov 10, 2006)

Morika had collasped once inside the door, her staggering gate now not entirely due to nausea and pain, but exhaustion as well.  "We gon' haf fight _again?_" she growled at Vhir.


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## stonegod (Nov 10, 2006)

Isida Kep'Tukari said:
			
		

> Morika had collasped once inside the door, her staggering gate now not entirely due to nausea and pain, but exhaustion as well.  "We gon' haf fight _again?_" she growled at Vhir.



The kobold favored a glance in the hung-over shifters direction, giving her a toothy smile full of sharp teeth. "I'll put this into terms you will appreciate. We are being hunted, dear shifter. The fight has chosen us, and it is in our best interest to fight in on our own terms."

Busying itself around the shop, the kobold nods at the constructs reply. "Hmm. It may have to be enough." The kobold makes its way around to Doral. "Anything else you can do to make it more... malleable? Or to verify the veracity of what it will speak?"


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## James Heard (Nov 10, 2006)

At last falling inside behind his companions, Dragen notes the creature's intent and shrugs.

"Slide something cool and sharp inside his trousers. Even the dead pause at that sometimes, so strong are the instincts of preservation."

Seeing everyone look at him he continues, "Interrogation takes no mean skill when a creature is convinced its life and livelihood is under the knife. Which it would be, because honestly I don't care one way or the other. If I was ready to kill it then I'm certainly not going to pause to emasculate it, and lucky for it for the option."

He squints.

" It IS a he, isn't it? All monsters look the same in the dark."


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## MadMaxim (Nov 10, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> "The guards are sure to be antsy. Best we do this quick. We will need someone to bind that thing"---the kobold gestured dissuasively at the unconscious minotaur---"and then Partash will need to heal it back to wakefulness."



Partash looks at the kobold and answers "Very well, Vhir, but he'll regain conciousness almost instantly, so we had better have him tied to something properly." Once the bugbear has been securely tied up, Partash mutters a prayer to il-Yannah, makes a couple of gestures and touches the bugbear. The surge of positive energy instantly heals many of the bugbear's severe wounds, leaving only small cuts. "He's all yours now, sir. I hope you know what you're doing."

OOC: Partash casts _cure moderate wounds_ on the bugbear. And Partash still goes by the name of Parlinor Tashlov to conceal his kalashtar heritage.


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## Bront (Nov 10, 2006)

"Well, I can probably make you speak better for a bit, or stronger, or heartier.  Well, not you, but make an item that will for a bit.  Oh, and I can..." Carver will, if unchecked, eventualy describe every 1st and 2nd level infusion, every potion he has, and then start on some wild theories of things he thinks he can do eventualy.


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## Bobitron (Nov 10, 2006)

James Heard said:
			
		

> " It IS a he, isn't it? All monsters look the same in the dark."




_Why don't you grab down there in that fur and find out,_ Glasia thinks sourly.

She takes a mental inventory of her spells and shakes her head. "Nothing here, Vhir. I'm going to look over the shop to make sure we're safe."
ooc: I'll Spot my head off while they interrogate, looking carefully out the windows.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Nov 10, 2006)

stonegod said:
			
		

> The kobold favored a glance in the hung-over shifters direction, giving her a toothy smile full of sharp teeth. "I'll put this into terms you will appreciate. We are being hunted, dear shifter. The fight has chosen us, and it is in our best interest to fight in on our own terms."
> 
> Busying itself around the shop, the kobold nods at the constructs reply. "Hmm. It may have to be enough." The kobold makes its way around to Doral. "Anything else you can do to make it more... malleable? Or to verify the veracity of what it will speak?"



  "Why d' we always have t' fight in th' worse siterashuns... curse I say..." Morika mutters darkly, levering herself to her feet and trying to get the blood flowing properly in preparations for the coming battle.


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## Deuce Traveler (Nov 12, 2006)

Doral considers the question for a moment and says, "I have a spell that will make him feel as if I was a trusted and close friend.  I could then try to persuade him to help us, if he is able to give up the information.  I also have a spell that will let me understand his native tongue, but he seems to understand Common fine enough."

Doral does not mention that he can read thoughts, and before they interrogate the creature, he casts _detect thoughts_ and concentrates on the bugbear...
[sblock]
...and party members if he has a free moment to spare away from the bugbear.
[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Nov 12, 2006)

Doral adds, "Glasia, thank you for the warning in regards to the guards.  You acted promptly and impressively.  May I ask how your own magic is holding up?  I am beginning to feel drained, myself, and will probably benefit from some rest."


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## Bobitron (Nov 13, 2006)

Glasia blushes slightly at the compliment. 

"I didn't come with much prepared that might help in our current situation. But I'm feeling well enough, and I have scrolls to supplement my memory." She cranes her neck to the side to look out the window.


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## Ringmereth (Nov 18, 2006)

*Banderelli Artifice and Alchemical, Port Verge (nighttime) – Everyone*

The tired group, shedding drops of rainwater onto the dusty wood floor, drags the bugbear's body into the shadowy shop. The front room, once filled with Carver's master's creations, is devoid of enchanted valuables, but components and reagents still lie scattered on tables and strewn on the floor. Wary Vhir glances in the room's corners, lit dimly by lantern-light, and sees only his allies and their prisoner.

With Carver's aid, 'Parlinor' drags the unconcious bugbear up onto a table, sweeping a ledger and strangely shaped bones to the floor to clear it. Lacking rope, he looks about for a length from one of his companions. 

Meanwhile, at the window, Glasia gazes past a corner pane of cracked glass into the night. She spies an old man hobbling on a cane under the opposite building, taking advantage of what shelter from the elements its eaves afford. She glances either way, but the only other movement is the unrelenting rain, falling in showers and streaming off roofs, dripping steadily from signposts and shingles.

[sblock=Doral]The beguiler's spell gives him a view of the captive's mind, but that mind is closed for the moment; his forced sleep is dreamless. Turning to his companions, he can sense surface thoughts, like Glasia's dry mental response to Dragen.

OOC: if you want to get a more thorough description of what other PCs are thinking, you can't really read their minds without their players noticing. The spell will let you have in-character knowledge of any thoughts they put into their posts, but if you want more detail, you or I will have to ask other players for it.[/sblock]


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## MadMaxim (Nov 20, 2006)

*Banderelli Artifice and Alchemical, Port Verge (nighttime) – Everyone*

"Ready to work your 'magic', Vhir?" Partash asks the kobold.


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## Deuce Traveler (Nov 20, 2006)

*Banderelli Artifice and Alchemical, Port Verge (nighttime) – Everyone*

Doral nods to the kobold, "I'm also ready."


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## stonegod (Nov 21, 2006)

The kobold double checks the bounds that hold the bugbear, then instructs Carver on some appropriate infusions to bolster their efforts. "This belt, infuse it with the capability to frighten and turn the will; this cloak, you can focus it to strengthen the presence." Then, making sure their captive is in an indelicate position, with someone's sharp weapon pointed at sensitive areas, the kobold looms over the incapacitated bugbear. He then signals Parlinor to heal it enough to consciousness.

As the beast awakens, it sees the glowing red/purple eyes stare intently into its own. "Time to speak, little one. Time to tell us everything you know." And with that, the interrogation began.

OOC: Ask Carver to infuse _skill infusion: intimidate_ and _eagle's splendor_. So, that's an Intimidate check +21 (+19 base, -4 size, +4 infusion, +2 eagle's splendor). He'll spend an AP if the roll is less than 25.


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## Bront (Nov 25, 2006)

Carver will assist Vhir if he is able to.

OOC: He'll cast whatever Infusions are needed.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Nov 25, 2006)

"You know... you think you're pretty sh-smart," Morika observes to Vhir.  "Don't think I could help with this guy, unless you juss wan' me t' be my own sweet self."  The shifter woman's brain was slowly beginning to work, and somehow it was percolating that they might be in danger.  However, that was currently small potatoes compared to her pumpkin-sized headache.  But threatening someone was usually fairly entertaining, and it might take her mind off the nausea.


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## Ringmereth (Nov 25, 2006)

While Carver transfers the energy of his infusions into the kobold's garb, Parlinor spots a length of rope looped around Morika's rucksack. With it, he binds the hairy humanoid's limbs to the table as securely as he can, with several knots looped on top of each other. Testing the bonds, the priest finds them secure. 

With a little less grace than he might desire, Vhir, his face like a demon's, hoists himself onto the table. He plants his legs on either side of the bugbear's shaggy head, and with a nod to the priest of the Soverign Host, watches through blood-colored eyes as his captive awakes. 

The bugbear's eyes flutter open marginally as it groans deeply, but in an instant they go wide in shock. Stretching his neck away from the hellish kobold, he flexes his thick, bulging muscles and strains at his bonds, violently trying to break free as he roars curses. The table wobbles unsteadily; its legs were probably not built to hold well over two hundred pounds of angry goblinoid. Before his convulsions rip it apart, a fit of coughing cuts them short--the magical healing did not restore all of his injuries, it seems.

"What in Khyber are you?" he rasps, spraying heavy drops of spittle onto the terrifying kobold.

The action point wasn't necessary for the intimidate roll.


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## Bobitron (Nov 27, 2006)

Glasia looks away from the interrogation, keeping her attention focused outside the window. _Poor creature,_ she thought. _He has a employer he serves just like we do._ Concentrating on anything other than the events happening in the room, her mind wanders back to home and her sister.


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## stonegod (Nov 27, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> "What in Khyber are you?" he rasps, spraying heavy drops of spittle onto the terrifying kobold.



The eyes flicker darkly. "I am the bones of the world and the might of the fiends, the boundary between flesh and madness. But I am the one who asks the questions. You are to be the one who answers." Vhir makes sure to drive his point home.

Looming over the monster, Vhir continues, "Your _master_ sent you out here in the night. What were your goals? What do you know of those you sought, what were your told, and what were you to do with them? Are there other hunters, seeking that which they cannot bind? I want your specific instructions. The more you tell us, the better it will be. For later."

OOC: That's the first part of Vhir's questions---who is after us and how? We'll get to the Baron afterwards.


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## Ringmereth (Dec 3, 2006)

The bugbear's eyes veer away from his interrogator, flicking nervously between dimly lit figures. "The Prince ain' gonna stand for this. Damn it, he--" His gaze inadvertantly meets the warlock's, and he stops cold. "I, I mean... I.. I'll tell yeh," he exclaims, breathing heavily. "Nobody told me yeh were more'n a kobold."

"All he tells me, when he calls us in, I mean, me an' Lilikan and Nalnor and Jebbedo an' his, 's that there's a buncha Blacksurf spies a-runnin' through town. Seven of 'em: a sneak-like 'alf-elf, two men, one a priest, one with a big bow. An' shifter lady, a 'forged, an', an', um... a girl. And you," he adds quickly.

"He sent me an' my crew--I mean, Lili's crew--for yeh. He ain't 'specially worried if they an' I bring the lot in dead or breathin', or... clinkin'?" The killer's brow wrinkles in thought. "What'er sep'rates a movin' 'forged from a dead'un. 'Cept for you, kobold--I mean..." He mutters and mumbles in fear for a moment, unable to decide how to address Vhir. "Meaning's that he weren't so int'rested in you as a stiff, with you in charge. Or thinking you're in charge."


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## James Heard (Dec 3, 2006)

Dragen snorted.

"Big bow! Hah! It's not the _size _of the bow though, it's how..." Dragen actually manages to color his face a bit as he discontinues his cliche.

"I'm sure this all very informative, but could we make him scream now? Then perhaps the sudden, inevitable, perpetual silence?" the archer says with a hint of eagerness.


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## Deuce Traveler (Dec 3, 2006)

Doral considers what has been said, and thinks out loud, "Well, I'm sure this Lili is the woman we faced earlier, and Nalnor may have been the gentleman with the trident, so that leaves us to face Jebeddo and his crew.  It would be useful to know what they look like and their capabilities.  Is there some kind of prison area in the Prince's home or near the barracks?"  He'll concentrate his mind reading on their captive during this.

He glances at Vhir, after his "out loud" thoughts, and then begins to check out if there is a cellar, since they'll need a place to store a dead body.


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## stonegod (Dec 4, 2006)

Vhir smirked when the captive indicated that he was leader. The kobold knew better. No one lead, especially here. You acted for your survival, and you use whatever you could do ensure that. That was all that was happening here. But the note that the Prince wanted him alive... that was something to save for later.

The kobold nodded at Doral's "advice," but kept its attention on the bugbear. They were all pawns in a game, but this pawn was going to get to the other end of the board. "I am in charge... of you. Now, tell us about this Jebbedo and his gang. What the look like. What they do, their talents. And then, I want you to very precisely tell me where the Baron is, who and what is guarding him, and how to get at him. Clearly. We wouldn't want Dragen there to have to clear up... misunderstandings. He'd enjoy that."


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## James Heard (Dec 4, 2006)

'Not really, but I wish he'd get around to answering questions so I can get to the business of butchering him. It's something that you want to take your time with so the stumps are sewn up properly and don't ruin your packs before you dump it all into the ocean...and I just know that here in this lot I'm going to be the only tailor for his meat."

"Though...if you've got fancy enough clothes and you're real convincing, maybe one of the bleeding hearts here will become convinced that you're Vhir here's sidekick. Honestly, it's all one and the same to me. I figure I'll end up having to hack everyone up anyways, one way or the other, eventually."

"I admit, its voice is pretty annoying though. Maybe we should just start cutting now just to shut it up, then one of the priests can carry around an ear or something and compell the spirit to tell use everything we need to know at our leisure, like when I'm sleeping."

Dragen shrugs, obviously bored with the whole interrogation and torture routine.


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## Ringmereth (Dec 9, 2006)

The half-elf beguiler looked around the rear of the room, looking under tables and racks. No trapdoors or cellars were to be found. Moving to the dark back room adjacent to Vhir's improvised interrogation chamber, he made out a few heavy crates piled to one side, as well as another door, which opens into a closet. With some care, either one could contain a bugbear's body.

[sblock=Doral]_That Karrn's crazy!_ the bugbear thinks, becoming increasingly panicked. _Need t' get out, he'll cut me up, that Khyber-damned coward! Maybe Jebbedo followed 'em, maybe someone's lookin' for us... what if they ain't? An' the kobold, he's not gonna stop him... what Baron? I dunno the Baron. They mean Prince?_[/sblock]

Still leaning over his victim, Vhir listens intently to the prisoner's revelations: "I, yeh, I know that. J-Jebbedo," he stammers, "he went t' th' Scepter for yeh. Uh, two pirates wi' him. Oh! He's a gnome. Jebbedo. Good 'un wit' a crossbow an' locks... an' sneakin'. Don' know who he took... quiet ones, like 'im, I bet. Men, both. Dark clothes, an'... swords, if I remmeber right. All 'em are good wi' blades." He licks his thick lips, gaze flitting between his interrogator and presumed executioner.

"Um... there ain't a, uh, Baron in th' Direshark Princ'pality. Yeh mean Kolberkon? Th' Prince? He's in 'is manor, or he was a couple'a hours ago. Got his guards, dozen, maybe more... an th' Brothers. No way teh see Prince without seein' 'em two ladies. They--I mean, 'ey're 'is pers'nol bodyguards. Elf wimmen... 'Brothers' is jus' a name. All 'is bes' guards been called 'The Brothers'. Them ladies are dang'rous," he explains. 

"No way would I try t' break in'ta th' Prince's. Ain't, um, just a house, y'see. Made to be tough to break in'ta. Like a fort, a castle. Go in th' front door an' yeh like as not t' come out w' extra holes in yeh... gotta get in 'is yard firs', an'... uh, pro'bly a floor up," the bugbear tells Vhir. He pauses nervously, mouthing bits of words, trying to keep looking useful. "I ain't gonna say yeh shoul' use it, but there's a tunnel. Inta' th' basemen' of the manor, from them barracks. Ain't gonna 'spect yeh in through there... but there's pirates, merc'naries 'anging 'bout in there."


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## MadMaxim (Dec 10, 2006)

Partash looks at Doral: "Do you think we can trust this fellow? Maybe he's setting us up for another ambush..." He whispers to the beguiler.


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## Deuce Traveler (Dec 10, 2006)

In answer, so to let the interrogators in the know also, Doral says out loud, "I detect that he is not attempting a lie.  He doesn't know that the Prince has taken Baron Gaardasci captive and is holding him somewhere."

Doral maintains his concentration on the captive to see how he reacts to the news.


"Also, this sneak of a gnome he is talking about may be on the lookout for us.  It might be wise if we bar the door until we figure out who to post outside and keep watch.  Are there any other ways in or out of this place, my friend?" Doral asks the warforged.


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## Bront (Dec 14, 2006)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> "Also, this sneak of a gnome he is talking about may be on the lookout for us.  It might be wise if we bar the door until we figure out who to post outside and keep watch.  Are there any other ways in or out of this place, my friend?" Doral asks the warforged.



"Just the front door.  Oh, and the back door too.  And the windows could be used I guess.  And I think someone could climb up the chimney if they wanted," Carver says.


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## James Heard (Dec 14, 2006)

"We should make the fixings for a fire then."

...

"Has anyone ever had whatever that is we're interrogating before? If we eat it then there won't be as much left to dispose of when we kill it. I might even be able to make use of some of the long bones in my arrows and bowcombs."


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## Deuce Traveler (Dec 14, 2006)

In a rare moment of true humor, Doral looks Vhir's victim over for a moment and answers, "No... definitely too chewey..."


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## Bront (Dec 14, 2006)

Carver answers, quite seriously, "I believe bugbear is a delicacy in Q'barra, or at least that's one of the rumors I've heard.  Having no need to eat, I've not tried anything."


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## James Heard (Dec 14, 2006)

"What sorts of spices do they have in Q'barra for bugbear? Do you think you might have any of them here? We won't have to salt the meat to cure it before cooking will we? Salting takes longer than almost anything. Have you _tried_ eating? Maybe you _can_ eat. I wonder what a fat warforged would look like. If you accomplished it you'd likely be the only one. In Q'barra they do a lot of quick cooking in those wide pans don't they? We'll need a hot fire, and a sharp set of knives to get him into small enough pieces that he won't seem chewy. And some rice, I think they eat a lot of rice and salt in Q'barra. Ohh, my stomach is rumbling already!"


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## stonegod (Dec 16, 2006)

Vhir suspected the Doral was using some sort of magic on the bugbear, perhaps reading its mind or detecting lies, so he waited for it to answer before continuing his questioning. But he knew that time would be ending soon, and the time for madness and blood to begin.


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## Ringmereth (Dec 17, 2006)

[sblock=Doral]_An' how'd I know who th' Prince has in 'is cells?_ he wonders. _Damn, I should know, I shoulda, shoulda listened for somethin'. I can't 'elp 'em, what're they gonna do wi' me now?! Can't lie, half-elf'll might tell. How's 'e know?_[/sblock]

As the party discusses the feasability of consuming their prisoner in various ways, Vhir notices him straining at his bonds again. _"Yeh gotta stop 'im!"_ he whispers frantically to the kobold above him, nodding towards the cannibalistic archer. "Yeh ain' gonna eat me, y' don' wan'ta do that! I can still 'elp! I... uh, I could get yeh in'ta the barracks! I... act like I caught you all an', an' take yeh to th' tunnel," he stammers, addressing the group as a whole. 

[sblock=Doral]_Damn, damn it, they can't do 'is t' me! I ain' sign on as fishbait or worse!_[/sblock]

At the window, the boredom of Glasia's watch duty is broken when two dark figures come into into view on the far end of the street, perhaps a hundred yards away, on the opposite side of the road. Wind blows their cloaks as they trudge closer through the rainy night.


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## MadMaxim (Dec 18, 2006)

"And how do we know you'll not doublecross us and truly hand us over to your employer, master bugbear? I'm certainly not interested in spending the rest of my life in some pirate's prison." Partash is clearly starting to get irritated about the lack of action taking place. He's obviously feeling that this interogation isn't going anywhere.


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## James Heard (Dec 18, 2006)

Dragen whistles cheerfully as he begins to look on kitchen shelves and to peek inside cupboards.

"I think my bow knife is sharp enough, perhaps you've got one of those large Q'barran pans lying around here somewhere? And a large bucket for the blood when we bleed him? My mother used to make a nice blood pie, if you've got some potatoes growing around here and some flour...."


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## Deuce Traveler (Dec 18, 2006)

"I have to agree with Partash that what the bugbear proposes may be too risky, although we do need to slip inside somehow.  Oh, and he's telling the truth.  His willingness to help us increases with every cooking ingredient that Dragen finds," Doral announces patiently.


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## Bobitron (Dec 18, 2006)

Ringmereth said:
			
		

> At the window, the boredom of Glasia's watch duty is broken when two dark figures come into into view on the far end of the street, perhaps a hundred yards away, on the opposite side of the road. Wind blows their cloaks as they trudge closer through the rainy night.




Glasia's eyes, starting to glaze over as she withdraws into her thought to avoid dwelling on the interrogation, snap open as the two approach. Warily, she pulls her body in tight to the wall to minimize her silohuette as she watches the two figures.


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## stonegod (Dec 19, 2006)

The kobold's eyes never turn from the captive, but to Doral he states, "Unless you have a means to bind his will, than to fire it is." To the captive, all he says, "Of course, you can tell me where this tunnel is, who are the guards, and the general layout of where the Prince would hold such 'important' prisoners."


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## Deuce Traveler (Dec 19, 2006)

Doral shakes his head. "I could make him see me as an ally, but it wouldn't be a true binding.  I cannot make him betray someone or something he wouldn't be willing to betray for a friend."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Dec 20, 2006)

Head swiveling back and forth to take in the all-important conversation, the bugbear blinked nervously when Vhir addressed him again.  He drew a quick breath, stole a glance in Dragen’s general direction, and then said as clearly as his shaking voice could manage:

“Ah swear I ain't gonna cross yeh! Whad’a I care if one pirate loses a pris’nor to another? I’m ’ere for the Prince’s protection, tha’s all... _protection’s_ what I'm loyal to.”

[sblock="Doral:"]_Host, this better work... I ain’ gotta worry about the Prince if th’ crazy kobold don’ want me dead. Look at him! An’ that butcher..._[/sblock]
The bugbear’s voice climbed a notch with his last declaration.  His eyes swept over the group then stopped on the kobold’s face, fearfully trying to decipher how his suggestion was received.

Even as the bugbear spoke, the two figures in the rain Glasia were watching drew closer.  They strode along, neither wanderingly nor particularly intentionally, their gait unaffected by puddles and gutter rivulets.  The young wizard saw no telltale gestures, but she couldn’t see their faces yet, so she did not know if they walked in silence.

The gap between them and the storefront shortened, and soon they would be close enough to notice the candle flickers coming from the shop.  The figures showed no sign of slowing or turning, and Glasia could not discern whether or not they were guards.  All the same, what pedestrians would be out on a wretched night like this?


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## Deuce Traveler (Dec 21, 2006)

"We can get the information, and if he tells the truth we can just knock him out and tie him up for his friends to find him after we are done," Doral lies.  "Of course, if we sense he's lying I think we just hand him over to our cook."The beguiler adds, jerking a thumb towards Dragen.  He then goes to check the room's entrances and also checks for a back way out, all the while concentrating on the bugbear.


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## stonegod (Dec 21, 2006)

The kobold's voice draws to a low menace, crisp, and clear. It is a sign of annoyance. It is the tone of someone who wants to be answered. "Details. Entries, guards, and wards. All of it. _Now_."


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## Bobitron (Dec 21, 2006)

"Two people approaching," Glasia hissed, her voice just far enough above a whisper to cut through the conversation. "Should we extinguish the flames?"


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## stonegod (Dec 22, 2006)

The kobold scowls at the wizard's words. He gaze at the prisoner intensifies. "You will remain quiet now, I *will* have some bugbear for dinner." He does not turn from the bugbear, but he addresses the group. "If they come close, kill them. It is time we get this job done, and we cannot allow any other delays."


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## MadMaxim (Dec 27, 2006)

Partash grips his mace tightly and tries to find a suitable place to hide. "Somebody move that bugbear out of here. We can't risk him alerting the people outside. Glasia extinguish the flames. I'd rather that we avoided further fighting." His voice is a little shaky making it obvious that he isn't used to be the one in charge, but on the other hand he's not interested in the whole party blowing its cover just because Vhir feels like tormenting the bugbear.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Dec 29, 2006)

The young wizard blew out the lamp without pause. A thick and uncomfortable darkness filled the room, and all further words were stilled.  Only the rain showering on the windows and cobble street, and heavy and nervous breathing, were audible.

As their eyes adjusted to the darkness and their ears to the quiet, the sound of footsteps began to drum through the cold air.  Glasia, pressed to the wall but still able to see the figures, watched them approach.  The low ring of their footsteps grew louder and clearer as they drew closer.

Then, abruptly, the sound died.  The figures stopped in the street across from the shop, turning to face the storefront, one pointing.  As all those within collectively held themselves as still and quietly as possible, even the bugbear, the two figures’ voices drifted through the sound of the rain, too muffled to understand.

After a few aching moments of this exchange, the two figures turned and continued on their way, sloshing through the rainwater puddles.  They turned at the next cross street, and began to stride in a safely different direction.  As they passed under the light of the corner lamp, Glasia saw that they were indeed guardsmen.

All around the room, pent up breaths of air were released, and there was a rustling as people relaxed.  Vhir returned his attention to the bugbear, seemingly unperturbed.

Craning his head to look past the kobold, the bugbear whispered, “They gone?”   The kobold only nodded silently, and the bugbear gave him another nervous glance before going on in a hushed tone.

[sblock="( Doral: )"]_There's no bargaining with 'im, he ain't gonna play but I gotta live somehow, can't let them drop me offa dock with a dagger—no, maybe they won't let 'im, they know I can still help._[/sblock]
“Prince's manor's, it's, it's got a tall fence all 'round. Always two guards in front, in nice armor an' the works, fer show. Then, uh, two at th' manor front doors. Yeh'll run in'ta more inside—I don' know how many, it changes, see? Might be five, mebbe ten. They stay close ta th' front, though; they ain' allowed upstairs, 'less the Prince or the Brothers say so... but they won' just sit on their arse if yeh break int' the secon' floor, either.”

“And the wards? The Prince?” Vhir said sharply.

Eager to please, the bugbear babbled on. “Prince's floor stays locked, most'a the time... don' know if there's no wards. Ah don't go tryin' t' look in 'is private rooms. He's like as not to feed yeh to his sharks for it... this one, uh, maid girl. She gets light fingers wi' his things... she lef' without an arm, an' we all knew where it went.”  He stopped, breathing deeply and still looking up at the kobold.

“More. You’ve only told us ways _not_ to go in.”

The prisoner whined quietly, but continued. “Oh—the place got a big double doors, on the east side by th' fencin'. Bit 'eavy fer just sneakin' through, but there ain't any pirates guardin' it. Leads in'ta the kitchen. Prince Kolberkon don' like 'is servants trackin' mud through th' halls when they bring th' groceries...”

At that point the kobold cut him off with a threatening glance and a visible flexing of his clawed fingers.  The bugbear, afraid to break eye contact, sat in fearful silence, awaiting his fate now that he had at last revealed something of use.

[sblock="Doral:"]Doral finds that besides the front door and the door to the second room, there is also a door leading outside and a staircase to the apartment above in the back room.  Other than the steel front door, all the doors were simple and wooden, including the one at the top of the staircase.[/sblock]


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## MadMaxim (Dec 29, 2006)

Coming out of his hiding place, Partash says: "I don't want to ruin it for everyone, but the divine powers granted to me are close to spent. I will need some rest to clear my mind for another day's heroic efforts. I believe Doral and Glasia must feel the same way."

Then he turns to Carver. "Is it possible for us to rest here, Carver, or do we have to find shelter some other place?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Dec 29, 2006)

Doral nods at Partash in thanks.  "I agree that I could use a few hours of rest to recharge, but the fact that those guards came close to this building makes me wonder if we shouldn't just move while we still have the advantage of darkness and since we are causing them to react to us instead of vice versa.  Still, we'll likely need you at full strength.  We can rest while someone guards our tied up new friend.  We might not have to kill him either, since it's likely that his employer will want to kill him when he finds out that he was a snitch.  At this point, it's in his best interest that we succeed, or at least distract the Prince long enough for him to get out of town.  That is...after he wakes up from us knocking him out again."

Doral walks up to the bound bugbear and speaks directly to him, removing his dagger from the folds of his clothes.  "Unless you would prefer for us to kill you quickly.  You won't enjoy your life once the Prince or his surviving allies chase down those responsible for the coming fiasco, and I can understand it if you want to choose the easy way out."


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## stonegod (Dec 31, 2006)

The kobold looks at the bugbear one last time, the turns around as if it has stopped existing. It looks at Partash. "Rest will only give our enemies more time, but if resting will be the difference between success and failure, so be it. It can give our wizard here more time to prepare more... appropriate powers." He looks over to the hungover shifter. "And give others time to... recover. But, it may be best to move to another location if this one is suspect. Getting interrupted will do the sleeping little good."



			
				Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> Doral walks up to the bound bugbear and speaks directly to him, removing his dagger from the folds of his clothes.  "Unless you would prefer for us to kill you quickly.  You won't enjoy your life once the Prince or his surviving allies chase down those responsible for the coming fiasco, and I can understand it if you want to choose the easy way out."



There is a glint in the kobold's eyes at Doral's words. It turns once again towards the bound creature, a waiting look on its face.


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## MadMaxim (Jan 6, 2007)

Partash responds to the kobold's question: "I believe it will make a difference between succes and failure... My assistance is limited if I can't channel the magic of my gods."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jan 6, 2007)

Doral nods to Partash, "Very well, then.  Let us and Glasia rest and restore our powers upstairs.  We need to have a watch by both our window and the prisoner.  Carver, I'm not sure if you need to rest, but can you watch our 'guest' and make sure he doesn't escape until we are ready to let him go.  We might as all get comfortable, my friends.  We'll be here for a few hours."  Looking at the bugbear he grabs a gag and approaches him and adds, "You don't have to answer my question right away.  Think upon it."  If he doesn't have an answer now, Doral will gag him and while concentrating on his thoughts.


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## Bront (Jan 7, 2007)

"I've no need to rest tonight," Carver says.


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## MadMaxim (Jan 7, 2007)

Partash begins heading upstairs to find a place to rest.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jan 12, 2007)

The bugbear’s anxious and desperate eyes watched Doral approach him.  As the beguiler raised the gag, he blurted out stumblingly, “I ain' keen fer' dyin' yet. Skippin' town's no pro'lem 'ere, an' th' Prince won't be worried 'bout his own, long as he thinks o' gettin' yer head onna pike.”  The bugbear’s glance slid towards the kobold as he spoke, but then snapped back towards Doral, saying with eager reassurance, “Some ship or 'nother can take me."

His hopeful look lingered another moment, but then faded as Vhir looked away and Doral bound the gag across his mouth.  He seemed resigned, but he still sat tensely upright even after the group started to wander away.

[sblock="Doral:"]_Dol Dorn bless 'em... if they don' finish the Prince or come damn close--why in Khyber did I 'ave t' find them bleedin' spies?_[/sblock]
Everyone made their way up the worn stairs in the back room, filing past a bugbear meat-deprived Dragen.  The upper apartment was modest, with two bedrooms and a small communal room.  The group quickly and quietly found a place to pass what remained of the night, exchanged a few civilities, and then let the hours wash by.

Carver, home for the first time in a long while, nonetheless dutifully watched their captive whilst reminiscently poking about the shop at the various materials and items, at one point deciding to dust the quiet store.  Throughout the night, a pair of city guards on their rounds would occasionally pass by the storefront, but none slowed or paid any heed to the building.

Somewhere in the dark hours between night and morning, the rain stopped.  Soon after, windows flickered to life one by one with muted candlelight in apartments all down the street.  Dawn came very cautiously to the sky, slowly paling from deepest night-velvet to a watery blue, but never warmed with any yellows or pinks that Carver could see from the north-facing shop.

As the dawn emerged from between buildings and behind rooftops, fishermen emerged from their homes and migrated towards the wharves.  A chill fog rolled up from the sea to greet them, pouring through the city streets as it did every morning.  The seagulls stirred excitedly, filling the air with their distant shrill calls.  By the time the light was strong enough to reach down into the bottom of the high and narrow spaces between buildings and begin to warm the cold stone streets, the city had woken, and was alive with the sounds of merchants and shoppers, sailors’ wives gathering on corners to chat, and the mingled chorus of children and dogs.

The bugbear was awake too now, and sat staring silently out into the street, watching the thin flow of townsfolk wandering down this particular street.  In the apartment above, the others began to stir, having finally gained a full night’s rest.  They gathered again in the shop, concealed both by the grimy windows and the passersby’s apathy to the forgotten establishment.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jan 13, 2007)

Doral wakes, takes out some of his trail rations, and chews on some of the dried meat.  As he thinks thoughtfully to himself, he takes out his spyglass and observes the streets for signs of soldiers and other threatening activity.

Once satisfied, the beguiler quietly checks his equipment, taking pains to avoid making loud noises that may wake any still-sleeping companions, and walks down to visit Carver.  "I'm sure it must be good to be home, my friend, despite the circumstances.  We'll knock out our new friend and be on our way soon enough," he says, taking his waterskin out and enjoying a sip.


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## MadMaxim (Jan 14, 2007)

Partash wakes up from his dreamless slumber, sits up and looks around the room. Doral is already up. The kalashtar crosses his legs and makes strange gestures with his hands as he prays to il-Yannah to show him the way of enlightenment. He whispers in quori: "Fill me with the wisdom and strength to vanquish my wicked kindred spirits of Dal Quor. May the light shatter their hideous forms and usher a new and peaceful era for our people. Grant me endurance to face whatever evil they conjure up and help me become a worthy friend of my allies. Please assist us in our quest and let your light shine upon our path so that we may take the right one."

After his prayer, he puts on his clothes and armor and picks up all of his other belongings. He breaks out a trail ration and eats it, though his enjoyment concerning the meal is rather limited, but it serves its purpose of filling his stomach.

Afterwards, he walks down the stairs and looks for the bugbear and Carver. "Good morning, gentlemen."

OOC: Partash prepares the same spells that he had prepared for yesterday.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jan 14, 2007)

"Hello, Partash.  That was an interesting prayer I heard.  Did your god show his favor," Doral asks politely over his cup of water.


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## MadMaxim (Jan 15, 2007)

Deuce Traveler said:
			
		

> "Hello, Partash.  That was an interesting prayer I heard.  Did your god show his favor," Doral asks politely over his cup of water.



"It certainly feels that way, Doral, but what are we planning to do today?"


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## Deuce Traveler (Jan 15, 2007)

"Oh, the usual," Doral answers nonchalantly.  "I thought we'd break into a highly fortified building, snatch the prisoner, evade an island full of guards, and then escape said island on a ship most likely owned by men who wish us dead.  That is, unless, you have other plans."


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## stonegod (Jan 15, 2007)

The kobold wakes from sleep with one eye open first, to ensure everything is as it should be. Noting no one has gotten up yet, he feigns sleep some more until he hears the motion of Doral and Partash._ It is an interesting prayer_, the kobold thinks, and stashes that bit of information away for later.

The kobold comes down the stairs just in time to hear Doral's sarcastic comment. The team, if it could be called that, was breaking. His life was not endangered yet, so the job was the more important task, and he did not want the others to get distracted yet. Not until the job was done. Then it did not matter.

Cooly, to Doral's statement, the kobold interjected, "But that is entirely what we plan to do today. Because the alternative---failure---would leave us envying our prisoner." Once down the stairs, the kobold added, "Now we must plan."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jan 15, 2007)

Doral nods to the kobold, "Very well.  I could go in the appearance of a beggar and scout this entrance that our guest has spoken.  My getting there is not likely to be a problem.  However, getting the rest of this quite noticeable group into position nearby is going to be the real challenge.  Currently, Carver and you are most easily recognized, while I have a feeling our bowman is not going to be convinced into going disguised."


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## stonegod (Jan 15, 2007)

The kobold smiles, a grim, unsettling thing. "The mageling has magical talents of deception, of disquise, that we may utilize if you have nothing sufficient. We will need to consult with her to make sure her choices are... sufficient."


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## MadMaxim (Jan 16, 2007)

"Well, I believe divine forces will guide our steps, so I'm optimistic about our mission, even though it looks rather impossible right now."


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## Deuce Traveler (Jan 16, 2007)

"Unfortunately, I'm limited in what I can do to help the group as a whole.  I can cast a mist to hide our presence like I had before, create an image as a distraction, or turn someone invisible.  Carver sticks out the most, so if I cast that last spell it should be on him.  What can Glasia do for us?"


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## stonegod (Jan 16, 2007)

The kobold snorts. "Our waif has a talent for deception like you, it appears, though I doubt she casts it as such. Hiding from Khyber is the way of you folk when its part of your nature. Even those that accept some of the madness cannot decide their side." It looks up towards the second floor, where, if anyone checked, they would be sure to have found where Dragen was before the kobold came down stairs.

"But she also can call forth fire and find lost objects, if what she told me last night was of any use. She only had one scroll of disquise, unfortunately. That ability would have been... useful."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Jan 28, 2007)

Glasia woke to the sound of some of her companions’ voices in the shop below.  She quickly and quietly straightened herself up, breaking a piece off her meager breakfast for Cloudchaser before descending the worn and homely stairs.

She entered the pale sunlit shop to hear the kobold discussing her merits, causing all within the room to turn at her unexpected appearance.  She said “Good morning” in the most unobtrusive way possible, crossing over to the group.

“If it’s any help, I studied a few spells from my book last night I thought would be appropriate for today’s ventures.  I can make one of us invisible or call again a hiding mist, if we need it; or to confuse our enemies, I can make mirror illusions of myself or evoke phantom sounds.  I also have spells for sending whispered messages over distances. And yes, I have a scroll for finding simple objects, as well as one for creating silence.”   She looked from face to face, hoping she chose her daily repertoire well. _I’ve never infiltrated a place before, let alone a pirate prince’s well-guarded manor._

The warforged smiled brightly at her, somewhat diffusing the heavy mood of the morning. The bugbear turned his silent observation towards the girl also, but offered her only a blank and tired look, the fear and desperation worn away over the lonely night.


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## Deuce Traveler (Jan 28, 2007)

Doral nods to the girl in appreciation.  "I think that will work.  Glasia can cast the spell on Carver, and I can make Vhir invisible.  That will take care of the two of us that stand out the most.  The rest of us can do little things to change or hide our appearance, then as we get close to the barracks we can briefly use magical mist to obscure our approach if we really need to, unless someone has another idea."


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## MadMaxim (Jan 30, 2007)

"That sounds like a promising approach, Doral."


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## stonegod (Jan 30, 2007)

"We do as we must. I do not care to be a 'prisoner' in any case. However, recall that only your four"---the kobold points at Doral, Carver, Partash, and upstairs towards where the shifter is sleeping---"were the goal of the bugbear, so keeping the three that were of the other group hidden may be ideal."


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## MadMaxim (Feb 3, 2007)

"So, you and Glasia will be turning invisible and Dragen will be covering us, if the bugbear suddenly decides to hand us over to his employer?" Partash asks Vhir.


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## stonegod (Feb 4, 2007)

MadMaxim said:
			
		

> "So, you and Glasia will be turning invisible and Dragen will be covering us, if the bugbear suddenly decides to hand us over to his employer?" Partash asks Vhir.



"The _charm_ will take care of that. None of us should approach if the bugbear's will is its own. Period."


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## Deuce Traveler (Feb 4, 2007)

"So be it," Doral says.  He hides the motions of his hands and casts _charm person_ on the prisoner.


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## Isida Kep'Tukari (Feb 4, 2007)

Morika awakes much later that morning, perhaps the last of her group to arise.  She had wanted to write off her drinking binge, fight, and lengthy torture session of the bugbear as a terrible nightmare, but the faint headache behind her eyes negated that.  Taking a few moments to rebraid her hair and brush the remaining dried blood out of it, Morika goes to the nearest window to catch a glimpse of free sky.

Staring into the late dawn sky, she chants softly in the Druidic tongue, a language comprised of Sylvan words, animal calls and whistles, the faint rustling sounts of trees and plants, and the occasional deep thumps of stones.  Her words are directed at herself and the beast spirit within her breast, and she little mind to her surroundings.  Her form seems to grow a little larger, her muscles swelling slightly as she calls for strength to attend her.  With a battle on the horizon, she could afford nothing less than all of the power her spirit could grant her.

When finished, she padded to the front room to see the others, only to watch Doral begin fascinating incantations on the bound bugbear.

"But he was so nice and cooperative last night," she comments with a lopsided sneer, contemplating her clawed hands with unseemly interest.

OOC: Spells prepped are same as yesterday, and Morika is taking Strength as her +2 ability bonus for the day (granted as per her Feral Spirit shifter druid substitution level).


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## Deuce Traveler (Feb 4, 2007)

"Yes, he was cooperative before, but now he realizes that we are all now friends.  Or at least that I have his best interest at heart," Doral says while patting the bugbear on the shoulder and moving to cut his bonds.


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## stonegod (Feb 8, 2007)

"Ask him once again where political prisoners would be kept. Make _sure_ that if he does not know where they are, then where they would not be. I do not like having to storm this place blindly. It would be best if he know were our Baron was, but apparently that is not to be."


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## Dark_Jackalope (Feb 12, 2007)

The bugbear watched Doral loose his bonds, and looked up at the gathering group with a new expression of intrigue.  While still not particularly happy looking, he had exchanged his anxious and apprehensive manner for a more comfortable one.

In direct answer to Vhir’s question, the ungainly humanoid said, in a more hardened and drawling tone than the night before, “We usu’lly keep prisoners in th’ prison cells unde’ th’ barracks, but I havn’t seen eny new ones lately.”  

Sensing an imminent and frustrated dismissal by his new  “friends”, the bugbear continued, a shadow of pleasure touching his face as if crossing the Prince gave him some private happiness.

“But we don’ usu’lly get import’nt prisoners, more like common law-breakers.  Yet th’ Prince hardly doesn’t ‘ave enemies… So ah figure ‘is Highness has a particul’r place for those prisn’rs.  Probably right in ‘is manner, ah’d bet.”

Seeing he had the group’s attention, he broke out in a toothy smile for the first time.  “Th’ Prince might ‘ave cells under his manor, or mebbe they’re up in ‘is private chambers, if this prisn’r you’re looking for is real important.  Ah don’t b’lieve they’re in th’ barracks, though, ’ll tell you that.  An’ probably not in the commons on th’ first floor a’ the manorhouse, either.”

On that note, the bugbear concluded his speech, and began to root around for his bag.  “’M starved!” he commented casually, as if this was his normal state of being.

“There’s a kitchen upstairs, though it’s been many years since I’ve cooked anything for somebody in it,” Carver offered.

The bugbear’s fist emerged from his small leather sack with a cut of dried meat.  “Nah,”  it answered, “Ah’ve still got a bit leftov’r from last night.”   He sat back down in the chair in which he had until recently been bound, seeming to forget this earlier treatment.  His aggressive and proactive personality was already beginning to show as he became comfortable with his “fellows”, with an oddly artificial air of helpfulness masking what was probably a normally more independent and solitary attitude.

“So, yeh all really gonna take an imporant pris'ner right outta the Prince's hands? Well then, what's the plan? We better get movin' fast, yeh know. They be s'pectin' me at th' barracks soon.”


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## Deuce Traveler (Feb 15, 2007)

Doral ponders the choices before nodding to himself.  "Very well.  I'll be one of your 'prisoners' so that we can get into the barracks.  Perhaps we can say that Morika here switched sides and helped you bring us in, since she was being recruited by some of your fellow strongmen.  Of course, Carver will not be seen at all..."  Doral moves his items and weapons into his backpack and slings it back to his shoulders.  He gets ready to cast _invisibility_ on Carver, watches his allies make similar preparations, then puts his hands over his head in a gesture of surrender before allowing himself to be marched out.


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## James Heard (Feb 15, 2007)

Dragen watches everything with a disinterested eye while making a rough breakfast. Clearly, the magecraft and protections of his companions are not a high priority for him.


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## MadMaxim (Feb 17, 2007)

"I'll join as a "prisoner" as well. After all, I was one of people who fought last night and would probably have been recognized by some of the Prince's other men." Partash puts his mace in his backpack and straps it to his back. Then he turns around to ask the bugbear: "I was wondering, where do you keep the prisoners' equipment?"


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## stonegod (Feb 26, 2007)

Vhir nods to the girl wizard to begin her invisibility charm; it seems eager to begin this stage of the mission. As for Dragen... if he stayed behind to snipe from a distance, that would be useful. And if he came along as a 'prisoner', well, more bodies to be shields.


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## Ringmereth (Mar 22, 2007)

So, first Dark and I were busy, then we were in Italy. All apologies for completely slacking off here. With that said, we're back in business, new and improved, with way more time on our hands.

On with the game---I'm speeding it ahead a little here.

Spells are cast and weapons stowed as the team makes their last preparations. Vhir and Carver, most conspicuous among their companions, vanish with a few mystical words. Morika, her face savager than before, elects to play the traitor. 

Priest, wizard, and spy all slip their weapons out of sight to act as prisoners. "Maybe yeh should tie yerselves. We ain't trustin' crim'nals to be nice when w' bring 'em to th' jail," the bugbear observes, gesturing casually to the rope he was bound with the previous night. "Ah can do it so it ain' trouble t' slip out." Reassured by Doral's faith in the charm, the three allow their prisoner to bind them. The knots, while thick, take only seconds to break free from. 

Boredom on his face, Dragen watches the preparations as he chews methodically at his breakfast. Uninterested in giving up his bow, the archer announces that he will trail the group from a short distance. 

Finished at last, the party waits for the street to clear, then hurries out of the building. The bugbear, one of his swords in hand, motions for the brutish shifter to lead the captives forward as he walks behind them. Invisibly, Vhir and Carver trail the five as quietly as they can manage, while the archer nonchalantly strides out of the abandoned shop and follows with lazy footsteps. His bow, wrapped in cloth, appears to the casual observer an ordinary, nondescript bundle. Above the procession, Cloudchaser swoops in broad arcs, uncaged by the wizard shortly before the group's exit. 

The scattered crowds that bustle about Port Verge's streets make way for the procession without question. No one dares rest their eyes too long on the menacing bugbear, though the prisoners attract many long stares. Behind them, the kobold and warforged desperately scramble through openings in the crowds, barely missing the bodies of oblivious townsfolk and travelers going about their business. 

Turning a corner, the bugbear points to a grim grey building. "There," he snarls. Two guards flank the barracks' door; one, hefting a spear, strides forward. "Thesh, we been wond'rin where th' hell ye gone! Rest o' yer men's dead, an' no word from ye!--an' who in Khyber's that?" The sentry, clad in chain and badly scarred on the cheek, points suspiciously to Morika.

"She--she ain' one ah them," the bugbear stumbles. "Turned on 'em, gave 'em up. We caught 'ese 'uns in th' night, all sleepin'." He makes for the door. "Don' stand there, addle-brain! Get 'em in 'ere." The guard shrugs and beckons his partner; they haul the bound trio into the barracks without complaint.

The room, lit by torches, is 40 feet long and half as wide. Double bunks line the right wall, and a long table is placed opposite them. Six soldiers lounge on benches next to it, idly gambling away coppers at a dice game. On the far end of the room, a barred door seperates the living quarters from prison cells. Left of it is a crude kitchen with oven, cupboards, and a table strewn with scraps of a meal. The 'prisoners' glance around the room, preparing to make their move, as one of the gamblers rises and approaches them, a cruel grin on his face.


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## Ringmereth (Mar 22, 2007)

For improved clarity in potential combat situations, we're trying out maps. Crude, yes, but we're all on the same page with regard to the basic layout of things. If anyone knows of better utilities for this sort of thing, please let me know.

Anyway, the dots represent you (matching your text color), the bugbear (brown), and the guards (red).


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## MadMaxim (Mar 24, 2007)

Partash casually looks around the room to count the number of guards while trying to avoid their attention. _Eight guards in total so far... I wonder if we can overpower them if a fight breaks out for whatever reason. Now, I just hope Doral's charm is powerful enough to keep the bugbear on our side, because otherwise we're in an immense amount of trouble._

OOC: Good to see you back again, Ringmereth. It's not like you aren't allowed to take some time off. I was just wondering if you'd give us an update on your situation, just so I didn't have to check the game everyday to avoid something passing me by.


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## stonegod (Mar 26, 2007)

A small shape ghosts amongst the living, a smirk on its unseen face. Anonymity had its privilege, and as long as his "fellows" made no mistakes, things would proceed smoothly.

OOC: Take 10 on Move Silent (13). If the door to the barracks is open and unblocked, try to squeeze in.


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## Deuce Traveler (Mar 26, 2007)

Doral hangs his head low and tries to look non-threatening and defeated, while dwelling on how well he could get loose and use a _whelm_ spell, if needed.  _Great... a grown-up bully.  Looks like I've got to be ready to receive some pain._  Unless his life, his possessions, or those of his comrades are threatened the half-elf intends to continue his charade.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Apr 1, 2007)

Vhir crossed the stony street, walking directly towards the unshaven guard outside the door.  Yet Glasia’s magic served him well, and the man noticed nothing.  The kobold stepped over the wooden threshold into the barracks, careful not to touch the door, and found himself standing immediately at the other door guard’s right hand.  In front of him was Partash, quietly absorbing his surroundings.  Vhir did the same, trying to move out of arm’s reach of the guard should he move his arm.

The man from the gambling table pulled up to the group, planting his heavy boots firmly apart on the wooden floor.  “Capt’n,” the bugbear nodded. Shooting a sidelong smirk at him, he turned to silently survey the group with a faint self-satisfied sneer, arms crossed.  His eyes were a sharp green-grey, and his hair a nondescript dark brown in a thick bristling shock.  His whole figure seemed harp and slightly exaggerated; an observant eye would see that under his rough-hewn act he was actually a vain man.

“So you’re th’ Blacksurf lot, ehh? Yeh don’t look like much to me. Two scrappy boys, they send me? And a little girl… pretty little girl.”  Arms still crossed, he ducked his head down slightly to try and catch Glasia’s downcast eyes, a jaunty smile on his roughly shaven face. If he did not look so cruel and predatorial, he could have been handsome.

But Glasia did not respond, and the guard’s attention shifted to Morika, who was keeping to the back of the group.  He dropped on hand to his side and brought the other up to hold his chin in thought, and crossed through the group towards her. “And you came with them? Yeh look more like what I’d expect from th’ Blacksurfs. I can see why you abandon’d this sorry crew. But could I trust ye’ to join us here?” He looked back at the bugbear expecting an answer.

“She’s th’ one who tol’ us where these were. We had to kill th’other ones in ah fight; they were tougher, but she led us tah these sleepin’ in their beds like childr’n,”  the bugbear supplied matter-of-factly.

In a terse tone, as if familiar with the bugbear’s usual intellectual capacity, the man said to him, “And did it not occur to you it could be a trick, lieutenant? They are spies, after all. The purpose ah’ spies, lieutenant, is to infiltrate.” The bugbear looked at the ground, and the man gave a short laugh to reinforce the elementary obviousness of his statement

He turned his head to the shifter again, his green-grey eyes stared unblinking into her own for a moment, the smirk still not gone from his face. Morika smiled back, revealing her abnormally sharp teeth. Surprisingly, the man broke out in a genuine grin, apparently pleased with what he saw. “You, I’ll give you a benefit of th’ doubt. I want yuh’ to help me… I need to extract all the useful inf’rmation from your former colleagues before I rid m’self of them. I thought I might give you the honor of extraction.”

He paused to appraise the trio a last time. “Not the girl though.” He extended his muscled arm and ran his broad and well-trimmed fingernails through Glasia’s hair, that small self-satisfied smile never leaving his face. “We’ll keep her.”

As if this had been some prearranged cue, the guards at the table got up, one crossing towards the door to the room with the holding cells, the others heading towards the group. The guard by the inside of the door swung his arm out and pulled the wooden door shut, though Vhir heard no lock click into place. Out in the morning sunlight, the other guard casually stepped in front of the portal and clasped his hands behind his back, shutting away the dark proceedings within from the innocent summer day.


[sblock="Situation Map"]Note: I've placed a little black X on the Captain's dot.



[/sblock]


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## Deuce Traveler (Apr 1, 2007)

Doral sighs as he realizes that Glasia lacks the training to handle this ordeal properly.  The girl was liable to get hurt, or worse.  _The mission comes first._  The thought reaches his mind, but then he knows she has too much information.  She would break quickly, and their mission would be just as jeopardized, but with the party weakened by one and enemies at the ready to their rear.  That's how he explains his protective actions to himself, anyway, in the future moments he had to reflect.

"Well, we tried to do this the nice way."  Breaking loose, he casts _sleep_ at the group of men by the far table.

Watching the bugbear carefully, Doral adds slickly, "These men don't seem to like very you much."

OOC: If those two colored dots outside the door aren't allies that can take out the man outside, Doral will open the door and cast _whelm_ at the man outside instead.


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## Dark_Jackalope (Apr 2, 2007)

OOC: Those two dots outside are Carver and Dragen. They'll be able to make a move on the outer guard.


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## MadMaxim (Apr 2, 2007)

Partash watches as Doral acts on his gut feeling and quickly acts to incapacitate the captain: "You had better not touch that woman again, you pitiful excuse for a man..." Partash raises both his hands to make some strange motions with his hands as he utters a prayer to il-Yannah in Quori and points at the captain. "Your incompetence will be obvious for all to see... Captain..."

After finishing of his spell, Partash retrieves his mace from his backpack and readies himself for combat.

OOC: Partash casts _curse of ill fortune_ on the captain. He casts it defensively if there's any chance of getting struck down by a nearby guard. Then he draws his heavy mace.


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## stonegod (Apr 6, 2007)

The kobold curses to himself as the others blow the ruse for nothing more than the girl's churlishness. They could have at least waited until the thugs were in a vulnerable state. With a dark thought Doral's way, the warlock called upon the power of Khyber, calling forth foul flying fiends to harry his foes.

OOC: _summon swarm_ (bats) in the large clump of guards.


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## Ringmereth (Apr 7, 2007)

Never fear, we haven't disappeared again, but are merely hoping that Morika replies here. If not, we'll get this show on the road in a day or so.


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## Ringmereth (Apr 15, 2007)

A flurry of motion erupts as the party responds to the Captain's threat. Before even Doral reacts, Morika flies into a rage; teeth bared to the guard under pretense are again exposed, this time with real malice behind them. Pulling her scythe free of her pack, she swings it in a silvery arc, striking sparks off the Captain's armor. 

As Morika charges in, Glasia , wrenching her jaw away from the Captain's grasp, contorts in scared fear. "No you won't!" she cries, pointing her casting hand at him. _Ar'taei! In--_ahh!". A fist strikes her nose with a wet _thunk_, bloodying it and ruining the young wizard's incantation. She stumbles away towards the corner of the room, a hand raise to her wounded face. Still smirking, Mirren draws his sword--a thin, basket-hilted rapier--with a flourish and counters Morika's attack with a high thrust. The shifter ducks left, but her shoulder is still grazed by the keen blade.

Partash, condemnation barely out of his mouth, raises his arms, calling upon his divine knowledge to place a curse on the head of the guards. A moment later, his mace is in his hands, and he braces himself for a fight. Beside him, Doral incapacitates three of the guards; those behind the table slump to floor, comatose. His comment to the bugbear has its desired effect, as well; a determined look on his face, Thesh seizes his blade and, bounding to the rear of the group, assaults the inner door guard. "Stop, you stupid, smelly fur--ugh," the man yells to no avail as the bugbear attacks. Despite the man's attempt to parry the blow, his former ally strikes him with a powerful stab; the sword sinks deep into the man's chest, emerging with a deep red stain. 

The remaining guards react swiftly. The man by the table picks up a halberd from the table and moves in to support his commander. He tries to bury it in the raging shifter's side, but misses. The follow-through of its butt end knocks her side, though, leaving what will likely become a pretty bruise the next morning. The other guard, standing near the cell doors, grabs a spear off a rack on the wall and hurls it towards the melee. It barely misses Doral, hits the far wall, and clatters to the ground. Below the action, Vhir unleashes his Khyber-given abilities, and bats--hundreds and hundreds of bats-suddenly materialize, swarming around the already-fallen guards.


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## MadMaxim (Apr 16, 2007)

Partash once again raises his left hand and calls upon _il-Yannah_ to grant his fellow adventurers and himself good fortune in the fight. He takes great care to avoid his enemies.

OOC: Partash casts _bless_


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## Deuce Traveler (Apr 16, 2007)

Doral glanced for a moment at the spear that lay near him, but then brought his attention once more to the fight at hand.  This is closer to combat than I generally like to be.  The beguiler then positioned himself to cause more havoc.

OOC: Casting _color spray_ at the two closest guards if Doral can get them both without also getting Morika.  Otherwise, he'll take out his _wand of magic missiles_ and use it against the guard who just threw the spear.


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## stonegod (Apr 18, 2007)

The kobold continued its concentration, eyeing any foolish enough to try to approach it. They would regret it, certainly. The kobold grinned in evil glee at the thought.

OOC: Concentrate on _swarm_ unless someone comes in melee; if so, back up away from the combatant and _voice of madness_ them.


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