Although your attempt to Grapple the cultist falls short, Skorbor catches on and lends a hand, Arutha. He snatches the witless rogue by the cowl, squeezes around his neck, and shoves him down to his knees at your feet. "Answer the questions, or the blade takes you."
Skorbor doesn't know any of the properties enchanted into the Warrior. He just saw you use it skillfully and assumes you can make good on a threat.
OOC His action lends Help to the first skill check you roll to get the cultist to talk.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Walking over and picking up his discarded sword, Arutha looks at the cultist meaningfully as he then cleans the blood off his blades using the garments of one of the dead cultists, then he runs the two blades against each other meaningfully before sheathing his normal longsword and walking back towards the restrained cultist, Warrior in hand. "I have trained in the use of a blade since I was a child. I know exactly where to use it to draw blood and create intense pain without killing. I can prolong the agony until you are begging for the release death would give and then deny it, again and again. I want to know some things and you will tell them to me. The only question is how much pain you can endure until you tell me what I want to know." Arutha speaks in a low gruff tone that is intended to speak to the darkest fears of the cultist. "Are you willing to cooperate or shall I begin with my "gentle" ministrations?" At that Arutha smiles with a predatory smile. He hoped that this man would not realize that he was only trying to persuade him and would not actually be able to torture him as he said he would for he truly was not that kind of man. 8
(why can I not roll well when I really want to. Ugggghhhh. This would have been so cool if I rolled well)
"A prisoner," the pale woman says to you, Norvalor, with a slight gasp. She leans forward into the iron bars, pressing her body close into the cold metal. "Prisoner," she sighs. "We are all prisoners in this flesh we were given. Without choice or consent, I might add. The boy is not innocent. He is drow. You are not innocent. You conspired with him."
"That's where yer wrong, T'vul," a prisoners says. "Yer bein' the only one conspiring."
"You simple judge a person by their looks, so close minded. He is but a child who couldn't pick the outcome of his birth. All children are innocent, it is how they are raised that changes them into what they learn to believe that they are. If you treat a child as an outcast and monster he will grow up into the thing that he believes he is. If you treat a child like he has great potential for good he will grow up believing that and pursue that!" Norvalor say with vigor. What he said seemingly coming from some life experience that he might of had. Pain and might shimmering in his eyes.
"I hate when people believe that their pompous ass is so righteous for doing whatever they feel like just because they know that as long as their racists there will be people to support them." Norvalor is no seething. "who ever just said it was right all you're doing is conspiring here, and seeing the dark energy around here i would say you're a cultist. One that believes they can better the world and make it a utopia. Am I right? What you fail to realize is that what ever dark patron you are contacting is simple using you for there own gain just like any person in power......"
Gramdal, you hear the genasi say, "The Zhents are here, too, gentlemen."
The remark is cryptic. It may bode well. It may not that a Zhentarim agent is among Jhaval's attendees.
The Zhents? Hmmm What does this half-djinn mean? Gramdal whispers to Kelten "The Zhentarim are here..."hopefully no one else hears him. Besides that, Gramdal will continue to observe things as they unfold. He will also see if he can spot anyone who might be with the Zhentarim.
A moment later, Kouronath recognizes you, Cath. "Hail, adventurer, Defender of the Wyrm's Gate! How might I be of service to you," he smiles.
"Zavakk you say," he adds. "What urgent news needs the marshal's ear?"
Cath looks up at the man wondering if he is daft? He has explained this twice so far, it appears a third time is needed. Keeping a straight face and trying not to reveal his annoyance with the man he answers him.
"Do you remember the child that entered the gate with me? That child is lost and I need Zavakk's aid. I fear there is trouble."
Cath sighs inwardly as he realizes that that this man's memory of the event is gone. Which is probably all well and good, can't really have foot soldiers of the Fist talking about a drow let in the city. Time for a new tactic.
"Kouronath, I need to speak with Zavakk regarding a deadly threat to the city. It's very important, where can I find him? Is he here? Can you summon him?"
"Sure, friend." Kouronath excuses himself and steps away, lifts the flip top on the counter, and disappears into a backroom. He returns a moment later. "The marshal should be along shortly."
Minutes pass. Kouronath looks around anxiously, tapping his foot. "Not sure where he is. He'll be along soon."
"Hail, and well met, adventurer!" Zavakk emerges from a different door against the back of the hall, calling out to a friend as he extends a hand. He's thirty feet away from you when you hear Zavakk's voice in your head. What is it, friend, Cath Redaxe?What news must I hear?
The cultists shivers under the threat you promise to bring, Arutha. He knows he's out-matched and out-muscled. And on his knees. Not the best position to be under a blade. One swing an he could lose his head. It'd roll away, stop, and with wide open eyes stare at his headless body.
Skorbor squeezes a littler tighter as you begin your interrogation.
T'vul steps into a light stroll as she moves around the outside of your cell, Norvalor. If it weren't for your dark vision, you'd only hear her footsteps. Slow and carefully paced, the sound of a slowing heartbeat. She smiles at you, and only you with pearly white teeth. She takes care of herself you notice. Interesting habit for someone who venerates the god of death.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Using the edge of the blade to pretend to shave some hair off his arm Arutha looks at the Cultist and let his eyes grow hard. "Where do you come from and who sent you here?"
Cath looks at Zavakk as he approaches, relief touching his face. Without speaking he answers back, focusing his thoughts and his unspoken words at Zavakk.
The drow child Traever is missing. He left last night with one of the companions I entered the city with, Norvalor, and they have not returned. I was told you could help, that the wands you have can track him.
Zavakk smiles jovially at the man he calls friend. His manners are cool. His voice in your mind however is sharp and concerned. Yes. We can. How do you know this? No matter.
He says aloud, "A fine day when Sir Kayagar takes time away from his musicians to visit us. Excuse me, old friend. I was on my way to welcome a traveler."
Kayagar bellows with laughter. "Ever the keeper of the keys, my dragonborn friend. Good day, and good tidings." He waves and turns his attention to a different matter.
"Hello, Cath." The marshals extends his hand in welcome. Its for show, you know. How long has the boy been missing? And why didn't you report his disappearance sooner? Time is important, dwarf.
"Don't touch that food," Traever snarls. "It's poisoned. I can't cast spells."
A moment later, Kouronath recognizes you, Cath. "Hail, adventurer, Defender of the Wyrm's Gate! How might I be of service to you," he smiles.
"Zavakk you say," he adds. "What urgent news needs the marshal's ear?"
Although your attempt to Grapple the cultist falls short, Skorbor catches on and lends a hand, Arutha. He snatches the witless rogue by the cowl, squeezes around his neck, and shoves him down to his knees at your feet. "Answer the questions, or the blade takes you."
Skorbor doesn't know any of the properties enchanted into the Warrior. He just saw you use it skillfully and assumes you can make good on a threat.
OOC His action lends Help to the first skill check you roll to get the cultist to talk.
"**** off! How am i to trust anything from a person who imprisons a child that hasn't even reached drinking age!" Norvalor says with a snarl.
OOC: I have established that Norvalor doesn't know anything about his patron yet, but does he know how to summon that connection?
Walking over and picking up his discarded sword, Arutha looks at the cultist meaningfully as he then cleans the blood off his blades using the garments of one of the dead cultists, then he runs the two blades against each other meaningfully before sheathing his normal longsword and walking back towards the restrained cultist, Warrior in hand. "I have trained in the use of a blade since I was a child. I know exactly where to use it to draw blood and create intense pain without killing. I can prolong the agony until you are begging for the release death would give and then deny it, again and again. I want to know some things and you will tell them to me. The only question is how much pain you can endure until you tell me what I want to know." Arutha speaks in a low gruff tone that is intended to speak to the darkest fears of the cultist. "Are you willing to cooperate or shall I begin with my "gentle" ministrations?" At that Arutha smiles with a predatory smile. He hoped that this man would not realize that he was only trying to persuade him and would not actually be able to torture him as he said he would for he truly was not that kind of man. 8
(why can I not roll well when I really want to. Ugggghhhh. This would have been so cool if I rolled well)
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
"A prisoner," the pale woman says to you, Norvalor, with a slight gasp. She leans forward into the iron bars, pressing her body close into the cold metal. "Prisoner," she sighs. "We are all prisoners in this flesh we were given. Without choice or consent, I might add. The boy is not innocent. He is drow. You are not innocent. You conspired with him."
"That's where yer wrong, T'vul," a prisoners says. "Yer bein' the only one conspiring."
"You simple judge a person by their looks, so close minded. He is but a child who couldn't pick the outcome of his birth. All children are innocent, it is how they are raised that changes them into what they learn to believe that they are. If you treat a child as an outcast and monster he will grow up into the thing that he believes he is. If you treat a child like he has great potential for good he will grow up believing that and pursue that!" Norvalor say with vigor. What he said seemingly coming from some life experience that he might of had. Pain and might shimmering in his eyes.
"I hate when people believe that their pompous ass is so righteous for doing whatever they feel like just because they know that as long as their racists there will be people to support them." Norvalor is no seething. "who ever just said it was right all you're doing is conspiring here, and seeing the dark energy around here i would say you're a cultist. One that believes they can better the world and make it a utopia. Am I right? What you fail to realize is that what ever dark patron you are contacting is simple using you for there own gain just like any person in power......"
The Zhents? Hmmm What does this half-djinn mean? Gramdal whispers to Kelten "The Zhentarim are here..." hopefully no one else hears him. Besides that, Gramdal will continue to observe things as they unfold. He will also see if he can spot anyone who might be with the Zhentarim.
Cath looks up at the man wondering if he is daft? He has explained this twice so far, it appears a third time is needed. Keeping a straight face and trying not to reveal his annoyance with the man he answers him.
"Do you remember the child that entered the gate with me? That child is lost and I need Zavakk's aid. I fear there is trouble."
Kouronath gives you a blank stare, Cath. A troubling blank stare.
OOC You may attempt an Insight check, if you'd like. But it's obvious something is missing — his memory.
Cath sighs inwardly as he realizes that that this man's memory of the event is gone. Which is probably all well and good, can't really have foot soldiers of the Fist talking about a drow let in the city. Time for a new tactic.
"Kouronath, I need to speak with Zavakk regarding a deadly threat to the city. It's very important, where can I find him? Is he here? Can you summon him?"
"Sure, friend." Kouronath excuses himself and steps away, lifts the flip top on the counter, and disappears into a backroom. He returns a moment later. "The marshal should be along shortly."
Minutes pass. Kouronath looks around anxiously, tapping his foot. "Not sure where he is. He'll be along soon."
"Hail, and well met, adventurer!" Zavakk emerges from a different door against the back of the hall, calling out to a friend as he extends a hand. He's thirty feet away from you when you hear Zavakk's voice in your head. What is it, friend, Cath Redaxe? What news must I hear?
The cultists shivers under the threat you promise to bring, Arutha. He knows he's out-matched and out-muscled. And on his knees. Not the best position to be under a blade. One swing an he could lose his head. It'd roll away, stop, and with wide open eyes stare at his headless body.
Skorbor squeezes a littler tighter as you begin your interrogation.
OOC. You may roll again.
T'vul steps into a light stroll as she moves around the outside of your cell, Norvalor. If it weren't for your dark vision, you'd only hear her footsteps. Slow and carefully paced, the sound of a slowing heartbeat. She smiles at you, and only you with pearly white teeth. She takes care of herself you notice. Interesting habit for someone who venerates the god of death.
Using the edge of the blade to pretend to shave some hair off his arm Arutha looks at the Cultist and let his eyes grow hard. "Where do you come from and who sent you here?"
9
(apparently he burped when he spoke)
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Cath looks at Zavakk as he approaches, relief touching his face. Without speaking he answers back, focusing his thoughts and his unspoken words at Zavakk.
The drow child Traever is missing. He left last night with one of the companions I entered the city with, Norvalor, and they have not returned. I was told you could help, that the wands you have can track him.
Norvalor just watches her as he tries to subtilely remove his bindings.
Zavakk smiles jovially at the man he calls friend. His manners are cool. His voice in your mind however is sharp and concerned. Yes. We can. How do you know this? No matter.
He says aloud, "A fine day when Sir Kayagar takes time away from his musicians to visit us. Excuse me, old friend. I was on my way to welcome a traveler."
Kayagar bellows with laughter. "Ever the keeper of the keys, my dragonborn friend. Good day, and good tidings." He waves and turns his attention to a different matter.
"Hello, Cath." The marshals extends his hand in welcome. Its for show, you know. How long has the boy been missing? And why didn't you report his disappearance sooner? Time is important, dwarf.
T'vul glides around the cell. Her leisure steps are unnerving, her manners slow and arrogant. "You defend this creature? Why?" she asks you, Norvalor.