Dahme'dre gives him a gentle smile and a nod backing away from the feature. "Ahh... Withering Wards..." She tries the phrase, as she tries to keep her skepticism to herself. "Where were these when they were needed." She glances toward the woman seated behind him, and keeps her tone low, so as not to embarrass him before his guards. "I once met a man" she suggests softly, "who wished to sell me a stone that warded Lions from his presence." She gauges his following before she continues. "He demonstrated its power indicating no lions had come as we spoke... I understand the value of some precautions, but sometimes value can be found in protecting the cautious from shadows." Ironically Dahme'dre knows all too well what terrors can lurk in the shadows. "I left him with his stone, yet I have not faced any lions."
Kuori stands tall, a pillar of strength. She seems to want to say something, but resolutely does not.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
Valen gradually paces in a few steps and takes in the room, the occupants, the guards, etc. Arcane circles held no interest for him, but he was always vigilant around potential foes.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The old man gives a weary sigh at Dahme'dre's sarcasm, relaxing slightly as she pulls back from the ward.
He explains, as if talking to a child, "These wards are imitations, albeit exceedingly pale ones, of those which protected Thar against the Withering. If you question their efficacy, I encourage you to open your eyes now that you are beyond the capitals walls and compare the fate of nobility within to that without."
He gives a weary sigh, indicating the wards, "truth be told even these are barely enough to shield this one office, and will burn down in days." His tone clearly indicates this to be an event he dreads, and likely one he does not plan to be around for.
Rubbing his eyes in exhaustion, he admits, "I must confess, this seat has proven a nightmare to manage. The criminality which seeps from every pore of this city as soon as I depart and the peace of the Empire fades tears down what little stability I am able to carve out while I am here." He pauses, looking at you contemplatively for a moment, eyes resting on the various weapons, clearly evident on your persons. "Still, as fate has landed you in my office at this dire hour, perhaps you would be open to helping the good people of Arion in this dark hour?" he asks, his voice tired but with a shrewd, calculating note.
"I should note that I don't doubt the power and potency of The Withering. The lingering effects of the curse will stand for generations. I also don't doubt the existence or ferocity of lions." Dahme'dre adds.
Duty overtakes Valen's common sense and before he knows, he's side-by-side with Dahme'Dre, "How fortuitous for you, then, that you should have us come upon your city. As a Bastion steward, I am obligated to help any way I can whereever I go," a momentary pause hangs before the ruse is remembered, "To the extend that My Lady permits, of course."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The Duke allows Dahme'dre's second commend to pass him by with the practiced deafness of an experienced courtier. He blinks as Valen steps forward, clearly surprised at the breach of protocol permitted to Member of a noble's retinue.
"Er, yes," he says, recovering his composure, "You are to be commended Lady, for having such dedicated and... spirited retainers."
He waves a hand around the walls, indicating the town beyond. "Arion is infested with parasites and is dying from their touch," he says abruptly, "a plague of thieves, hoodlums, murderers and rapists whose stupidity and mutual antipathy has prevented their banding together into an organised gang on whose leadership the Withering could work its touch."
"With no leaders and no organisation, the very best efforts of my Royal Guard are like swatting smoke. The miscreants simply fade away during a Sitting, and reemerge upon my departure," he continues, visibly frustrated. A vein in his head pulses noticeably. "Attempts to root them out while we are present are fruitless, with an entire Sitting spent chasing a single thug only to learn she knows the whereabouts or intentions of no others."
He looks you over again. "Your arrival offers an opportunity, if you've the mettle and courage to seize it." He rubs his hands together. "Early tomorrow morning, my cohort and I will decamp and leave the town, letting it be known that one of my Withering Wards failed early." He continues, "tonight however, my men will sit and drink in the taverns, alehouses and brothels of Arion and let it be known that a second noble, one of considerable beauty and even greater personal wealth is in Arion."
"With the Royal Guard withdrawn, every brute with a club will seek their chance to claim such a prize. All you would have to do is walk, without great subterfuge through the town to the northern gate... walk and survive."
"You ask that we only continue with our plans unchanged except to remain within Arion through the night. However, in doing so our only reward will be added dangers?" She asks, but she also adds, "What will you do when The Withering has faded? Will you stay here then? It sounds as if that is what Arion truly needs."
The old man smiles knowingly, and says with no small hint of irony, "Ah, how swiftly concern for the peasantry fades when the notion of selfless sacrifice is floated." He shakes his head dismissively, "worry not M'Lady, I would not see you risk your life without reward."
He snaps his fingers, and the royal guardsman behind him steps forward with a bag clinking with gold. "This is a fortune by today's standards," he says by way of explanation, "but truth be told a fraction of what I stand to earn should lasting law and order return to Arion."
He hands the bag of gold over to you, Dahme'dre, before adding with a dark smile, "do me the great service of hiding that well upon your person, I would not want to see it in the hands of criminals if you are not quite so able as you appear."
"Very well," Dahme'dre says, "we will leave you to your wards, farewell" she turns to her companions "We will depart Arion in the morning."As they move to leave the room a small tremor rattles the building.
"What, do you think?" She asks her allies once they are in private. "Should we make any preparations tonight before we depart?" In a lower voice she adds, "Should we wait to depart at all? Would you like to get a better idea of who we're dealing with? It hardly seems wise to take on the entire town, if every man, woman, and child will take up arms to take what there is to be had."
"Let them come at us. I have already sacrificed one city without a fight, I am not willing to do so with another."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
"Not the idealistic approach I had hoped for. If it gets us out of here faster, then so be it. After the last flight from a city bent on killing us all, I'm good with leaving as quickly as possible."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"If the guard spends the evening spreading rumors, maybe we should spend the evening listening to rumors. There may be more to this than we know." Dahme'dre suggests, as she strides through the outer doors, opened before them by her spectral hand. "Probably not enough in here to get us on horse back, but maybe we can get some shopping in." She gives the purse a gentle shake.
Dahme'dre, the purse jangles heavily in your hand. A solid weight. As you surmise, with the high level of inflation in the Empire it's probably not enough to outfit you all with fast horses but it's certainly enough to do some genuine provision shopping. If you can find adequate vendors.
Emerging from the Duke's heavily warded seat of power, the party, is once again on the dusty streets of Arion. The guard who led you from the gate leaves you with directions, west for the marketplace, east for the craft's quarters and the name of a passable tavern or two where you can wash the dust from your throats. Diplomatically, he notes attempting to leave town with the gold before the plan can enter into motion would be frowned upon in a most terminal way.
(Shall we take a moment in an alley to count the purse so as to avoid drawing attention?)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
If we go into an ally to count the purse, Erdan will put up a minor illusion at the head of the alley of some 5ft tall stacked barrels, for added privacy.
"I think listening to rumors would be a good idea. We don't know if this Duke is telling us the whole truth of the situation. If he is, then I think we can handle a few thugs."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Dahme'dre gives him a gentle smile and a nod backing away from the feature. "Ahh... Withering Wards..." She tries the phrase, as she tries to keep her skepticism to herself. "Where were these when they were needed." She glances toward the woman seated behind him, and keeps her tone low, so as not to embarrass him before his guards. "I once met a man" she suggests softly, "who wished to sell me a stone that warded Lions from his presence." She gauges his following before she continues. "He demonstrated its power indicating no lions had come as we spoke... I understand the value of some precautions, but sometimes value can be found in protecting the cautious from shadows." Ironically Dahme'dre knows all too well what terrors can lurk in the shadows. "I left him with his stone, yet I have not faced any lions."
Extended Signature
Dahme'dre looks back to Kuori and Aio to see how they are handling the situation.
Extended Signature
Kuori stands tall, a pillar of strength. She seems to want to say something, but resolutely does not.
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
Aio blinks at the sudden attention. Her beak opens slightly before ultimately shutting without a sound.
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
Valen gradually paces in a few steps and takes in the room, the occupants, the guards, etc. Arcane circles held no interest for him, but he was always vigilant around potential foes.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The old man gives a weary sigh at Dahme'dre's sarcasm, relaxing slightly as she pulls back from the ward.
He explains, as if talking to a child, "These wards are imitations, albeit exceedingly pale ones, of those which protected Thar against the Withering. If you question their efficacy, I encourage you to open your eyes now that you are beyond the capitals walls and compare the fate of nobility within to that without."
He gives a weary sigh, indicating the wards, "truth be told even these are barely enough to shield this one office, and will burn down in days." His tone clearly indicates this to be an event he dreads, and likely one he does not plan to be around for.
Rubbing his eyes in exhaustion, he admits, "I must confess, this seat has proven a nightmare to manage. The criminality which seeps from every pore of this city as soon as I depart and the peace of the Empire fades tears down what little stability I am able to carve out while I am here." He pauses, looking at you contemplatively for a moment, eyes resting on the various weapons, clearly evident on your persons. "Still, as fate has landed you in my office at this dire hour, perhaps you would be open to helping the good people of Arion in this dark hour?" he asks, his voice tired but with a shrewd, calculating note.
"Our time here in Arion will be short, but we are nothing if not capable." Dahme'dre says confidently, "What need has found the people of this town?"
Extended Signature
"I should note that I don't doubt the power and potency of The Withering. The lingering effects of the curse will stand for generations. I also don't doubt the existence or ferocity of lions." Dahme'dre adds.
Extended Signature
Duty overtakes Valen's common sense and before he knows, he's side-by-side with Dahme'Dre, "How fortuitous for you, then, that you should have us come upon your city. As a Bastion steward, I am obligated to help any way I can whereever I go," a momentary pause hangs before the ruse is remembered, "To the extend that My Lady permits, of course."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The Duke allows Dahme'dre's second commend to pass him by with the practiced deafness of an experienced courtier. He blinks as Valen steps forward, clearly surprised at the breach of protocol permitted to Member of a noble's retinue.
"Er, yes," he says, recovering his composure, "You are to be commended Lady, for having such dedicated and... spirited retainers."
He waves a hand around the walls, indicating the town beyond. "Arion is infested with parasites and is dying from their touch," he says abruptly, "a plague of thieves, hoodlums, murderers and rapists whose stupidity and mutual antipathy has prevented their banding together into an organised gang on whose leadership the Withering could work its touch."
"With no leaders and no organisation, the very best efforts of my Royal Guard are like swatting smoke. The miscreants simply fade away during a Sitting, and reemerge upon my departure," he continues, visibly frustrated. A vein in his head pulses noticeably. "Attempts to root them out while we are present are fruitless, with an entire Sitting spent chasing a single thug only to learn she knows the whereabouts or intentions of no others."
He looks you over again. "Your arrival offers an opportunity, if you've the mettle and courage to seize it." He rubs his hands together. "Early tomorrow morning, my cohort and I will decamp and leave the town, letting it be known that one of my Withering Wards failed early." He continues, "tonight however, my men will sit and drink in the taverns, alehouses and brothels of Arion and let it be known that a second noble, one of considerable beauty and even greater personal wealth is in Arion."
"With the Royal Guard withdrawn, every brute with a club will seek their chance to claim such a prize. All you would have to do is walk, without great subterfuge through the town to the northern gate... walk and survive."
"You ask that we only continue with our plans unchanged except to remain within Arion through the night. However, in doing so our only reward will be added dangers?" She asks, but she also adds, "What will you do when The Withering has faded? Will you stay here then? It sounds as if that is what Arion truly needs."
Extended Signature
The old man smiles knowingly, and says with no small hint of irony, "Ah, how swiftly concern for the peasantry fades when the notion of selfless sacrifice is floated." He shakes his head dismissively, "worry not M'Lady, I would not see you risk your life without reward."
He snaps his fingers, and the royal guardsman behind him steps forward with a bag clinking with gold. "This is a fortune by today's standards," he says by way of explanation, "but truth be told a fraction of what I stand to earn should lasting law and order return to Arion."
He hands the bag of gold over to you, Dahme'dre, before adding with a dark smile, "do me the great service of hiding that well upon your person, I would not want to see it in the hands of criminals if you are not quite so able as you appear."
Erdan is slightly uncomfortable by the whole situation, but will keep up his ruse until they leave. He will remain silent along the wall.
"Very well," Dahme'dre says, "we will leave you to your wards, farewell" she turns to her companions "We will depart Arion in the morning." As they move to leave the room a small tremor rattles the building.
"What, do you think?" She asks her allies once they are in private. "Should we make any preparations tonight before we depart?" In a lower voice she adds, "Should we wait to depart at all? Would you like to get a better idea of who we're dealing with? It hardly seems wise to take on the entire town, if every man, woman, and child will take up arms to take what there is to be had."
Extended Signature
"Let them come at us. I have already sacrificed one city without a fight, I am not willing to do so with another."
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
"Not the idealistic approach I had hoped for. If it gets us out of here faster, then so be it. After the last flight from a city bent on killing us all, I'm good with leaving as quickly as possible."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"If the guard spends the evening spreading rumors, maybe we should spend the evening listening to rumors. There may be more to this than we know." Dahme'dre suggests, as she strides through the outer doors, opened before them by her spectral hand. "Probably not enough in here to get us on horse back, but maybe we can get some shopping in." She gives the purse a gentle shake.
Extended Signature
Dahme'dre, the purse jangles heavily in your hand. A solid weight. As you surmise, with the high level of inflation in the Empire it's probably not enough to outfit you all with fast horses but it's certainly enough to do some genuine provision shopping. If you can find adequate vendors.
Emerging from the Duke's heavily warded seat of power, the party, is once again on the dusty streets of Arion. The guard who led you from the gate leaves you with directions, west for the marketplace, east for the craft's quarters and the name of a passable tavern or two where you can wash the dust from your throats. Diplomatically, he notes attempting to leave town with the gold before the plan can enter into motion would be frowned upon in a most terminal way.
(Shall we take a moment in an alley to count the purse so as to avoid drawing attention?)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
If we go into an ally to count the purse, Erdan will put up a minor illusion at the head of the alley of some 5ft tall stacked barrels, for added privacy.
"I think listening to rumors would be a good idea. We don't know if this Duke is telling us the whole truth of the situation. If he is, then I think we can handle a few thugs."