On a scrap of parchment, Daewen scrawls in stunningly beautiful and ornate script: "Master Crestfall, we must make haste and deliver this map and associated intelligence to the city authorities posthaste! No time to dilly-dally around the city markets." She then delivers the message to Doc, and stands by at attention, awaiting his orders.
Zhi felt no awe at the magnificent architecture spanning the dwarven village. In fact, the structural integrity could be considered interesting - part of Zhi's brain indulged in random calculations which only sought to bolster his respect for Dwarven architects - and the other was focused entirely on one thing; warmth.
He had expected the Underdark to be warm. Volcanic vents and all. Yet this place was stone-cold. Zhi huddles into his coats and broods to himself, wishing only to be above land and basking in the sun above. This place didn't even have any Orzhov representatives, being so...out of touch. He frowns and curls his snout into a usual sneer. This place held little interest to him besides being a setback in the party's goals.
Even worse was the ladder. Zhi's worst enemy. He is known to be so weak he isn't actually able to lift his own body weight - and much to his chagrin, certainly had to be helped up the latter. Pride in sufficient need for recovery, he barely even pecked at the food - he usually doesn't eat, anyways; perhaps that's why he's so frail - and spent the night by tracing a tiny hut in the air and disappearing inside where he could manually control the temperature. And boy oh boy, did he turn that thermostat up. It almost reminded him of a day in the 120 degree deserts. Zhi sighs. Any who wanted a conversation with Zhi would see him curled into a tight ball in a swelteringly hot, dry-aired Tiny Hut as he silently broods to himself. Something has been bugging him.
Where nobody else could hear him (unless a very poorly-timed visit to his Tiny Hut happened), he traces two Sending spells in the air - one giving an update to the Orzhov, the other...targeting Kasha. For some strange reason he didn't understand, he felt an obligation to contact the druid. Why did he care? Yuan-Ti were emotionless. He had no reason to care about Kasha's well-being. She was a liability. Yet here he was, sending a telepathic message. To Kasha - "This is Zhi. I have been instructed by Doc to contact you. Are you alive? If so, where?" he mentally asks. Zhi is so bad at lying that even Kasha can tell Doc had nothing to do with Zhi asking. Zhi snarls - why was he getting attached to people?
Regardless, when morning comes, Zhi exits the Tiny Hut wound around his bed and recommends the party wastes little time in delivering the information they gathered. No other place - aside from any magical emporium - captured his interest, and he would rather, ah - "Let us not waste time indulging in idiotic pleasantries. We have a mission we must complete. Dabbling in comforts is useless," he snarls, arms calmly folded behind his back as he attempts to hide the fact that he's sore from walking. And climbing that damned ladder. That's all it took to tire him out.
Much to your happiness, or concern, either or, your Sending spell goes unanswered. Most troubling indeed. This could either mean Kasha had died, or she's not Kasha at the moment.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Raza has a fleeting feeling of something in the area and looks around but shrugs and goes back to reading her poetry book as nothing seems out of the ordinary.
"Tis only safe to speak further on this matter when we visit the confines of the Merchant Circle chambers within the Trade Gonjola. Tomorrow I will go to the council meeting and make sure we have time to get our case across the following day. For now, get some sleep."
Miah took us to see Maylorin Obsidianaxe first thing on the day of the Merchant Circle's planned meeting. Maylorin told us that every single dwarven trading caravan has been destroyed or captured in recent times. The attacks are coming from House Gullion of the Drow.
You enter a large stone-floored chamber with solid pink walls, illuminated by the ethereal rose light emanating from the crystal and further enhanced by a circle of torches. Marble steps descend into the chamber proper where an ornately carved, circular wooden table sits in the center of the room. Members of the Merchant Circle take their seats, and Mayor Torin Stonetooth calls the meeting to order.
"Today we have guests," says the mayor to the council, then, looks at us. "Please, take a seat."
First the group discusses a few matters left over from their previous meeting. After the Merchant Circle has finally finished discussing new trading laws regarding certain types of poisonous mushrooms, the floor is passed to Maylorin.
"Since you've left me with little time, i'll get right to the heart of the matter. As you know, our trade caravancs have been attacked time and time again by the drow from the city of Holoth and our people taken as slaves. Diplomats attempting to contact the drow have also disappeared, never to be seen again. Our once great force of skildpadders and merchants has been reduced only a smattering of minor traders and beasts of burden. Just three are fully trained as attack beasts! From reports obtained after encounters with the dark elves, it appears that one house is responsible for this shift in behavior." As he speaks Maylorin pulls out a Drow house insignia pin and set it upon the table. There is a murmur around the room.
"Indeed, this is the symbol that was found at each and every engagement we've been able to get evidence from." Maylorin reaches into his pocket again, drawing out his closed fist, he scatters a further dozen or so pins across the table, all exactly the same as the first. With his re-clenched fist crashing down on the table and his voice raised, Maylorin states, "This accursed insignia, this bane of the lives of all who live in Embla, is the symbol of House---"
Before he finishes his sentence, a crossbow bolt pieces the spot between his neck and shoulder, black ooze dripping off the shaft, and Maylorin convulses in agony before sliding out of his seat and under the table. The entire circle erupts as missiles and daggers coated in poison appear out of nowhere, hitting Torin the Mayor first, then the other members of the Merchant Circle. Blood spills across the table and falls to the floor as the shadowy forms of lithe dark elf assassins rush across the walls and ceiling.
It's initiative time. The Merchant Circle has been ambushed.
Raza is listening intently as Maylorin speaks and let's out a startled gasp as the bolt pierces him, almost falling out of her chair as she scrambles to stand and figure out what is happening.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Daewen has been watching the proceedings from the side walls, in the shadows and out of the spotlight where she’s most comfortable. She’s a solder, after all, and not a diplomat or politician in any way, shape, or form. When the crossbow bolts start to fly, she immediately thought back to an earlier mission where something similar happened, but the previous time it was a hobgoblin attack. Different enemy, same result. Just one more reason why she’s glad she chose the career she did…much more interesting stories to be brought back to her Queen!
The meeting is boring. Mock has never liked meetings, and that hasn't changed since joining the Order. She sits with her group, arms crossed over her chest, leaning back against something solid, and tries her best not to show her boredom. Some people get offended by that, she's heard. Then the crossbow bolt comes flying onto the scene, and people are dying.
"Oh, thank the gods," Mock mutters as she pushes herself up into a standing position.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
In the meanwhile, Zhi was filing his claws and fangs while the dwarves were speaking. He rolls his eyes and prepares himself to cast. "Do not worry about Maylorin. I can speak with him even while he's dead," Zhi rasps.
MY BOLOGNA HAS A FIRST NAME Daewen18, Neph18,Drow2(18)(AC15/HP45), Drow3(18)(AC15/HP45), Drow5(16)(AC15/HP45), Drow4(12)(AC15/HP45), K'Chouk(11)(AC15/HP78), Drow1(11)(AC15/HP45), Drow6(10)(AC15/HP45), Zhi10, Mock10, Raza5
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On a scrap of parchment, Daewen scrawls in stunningly beautiful and ornate script: "Master Crestfall, we must make haste and deliver this map and associated intelligence to the city authorities posthaste! No time to dilly-dally around the city markets." She then delivers the message to Doc, and stands by at attention, awaiting his orders.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Portents: 20, 8
Zhi felt no awe at the magnificent architecture spanning the dwarven village. In fact, the structural integrity could be considered interesting - part of Zhi's brain indulged in random calculations which only sought to bolster his respect for Dwarven architects - and the other was focused entirely on one thing; warmth.
He had expected the Underdark to be warm. Volcanic vents and all. Yet this place was stone-cold. Zhi huddles into his coats and broods to himself, wishing only to be above land and basking in the sun above. This place didn't even have any Orzhov representatives, being so...out of touch. He frowns and curls his snout into a usual sneer. This place held little interest to him besides being a setback in the party's goals.
Even worse was the ladder. Zhi's worst enemy. He is known to be so weak he isn't actually able to lift his own body weight - and much to his chagrin, certainly had to be helped up the latter. Pride in sufficient need for recovery, he barely even pecked at the food - he usually doesn't eat, anyways; perhaps that's why he's so frail - and spent the night by tracing a tiny hut in the air and disappearing inside where he could manually control the temperature. And boy oh boy, did he turn that thermostat up. It almost reminded him of a day in the 120 degree deserts. Zhi sighs. Any who wanted a conversation with Zhi would see him curled into a tight ball in a swelteringly hot, dry-aired Tiny Hut as he silently broods to himself. Something has been bugging him.
Where nobody else could hear him (unless a very poorly-timed visit to his Tiny Hut happened), he traces two Sending spells in the air - one giving an update to the Orzhov, the other...targeting Kasha. For some strange reason he didn't understand, he felt an obligation to contact the druid. Why did he care? Yuan-Ti were emotionless. He had no reason to care about Kasha's well-being. She was a liability. Yet here he was, sending a telepathic message. To Kasha - "This is Zhi. I have been instructed by Doc to contact you. Are you alive? If so, where?" he mentally asks. Zhi is so bad at lying that even Kasha can tell Doc had nothing to do with Zhi asking. Zhi snarls - why was he getting attached to people?
Regardless, when morning comes, Zhi exits the Tiny Hut wound around his bed and recommends the party wastes little time in delivering the information they gathered. No other place - aside from any magical emporium - captured his interest, and he would rather, ah - "Let us not waste time indulging in idiotic pleasantries. We have a mission we must complete. Dabbling in comforts is useless," he snarls, arms calmly folded behind his back as he attempts to hide the fact that he's sore from walking. And climbing that damned ladder. That's all it took to tire him out.
Much to your happiness, or concern, either or, your Sending spell goes unanswered. Most troubling indeed. This could either mean Kasha had died, or she's not Kasha at the moment.
DC15 Perception check: ?!?!?!
Zhi frowns. Strange. Perception: 5
OOC: Not sure if that DC15 Perception check was meant for Zhi and Zhi alone, or for anyone/everyone. If everyone, here's Daewen's check: 18
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
It's for everyone.
Neph perception, "Where the hell is Kasha? We need her here!"
Perception : 10
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Raza has a fleeting feeling of something in the area and looks around but shrugs and goes back to reading her poetry book as nothing seems out of the ordinary.
Perception 10
Aroraception: 7
D&D 5E BEYOND: Ada - Sorceress / Isa - Sorceress / Naris - Oathbreaker Paladin
CYBERPUNK RED DISCORD: Isa - Solo 5 / Angel - Solo 5 / Faun - Tech 5 / Raja - Nomad 5
PATHFINDER 2e DISCORD: Crystal - Sorceress
Some of you notice a very large bat peering into the dwelling from an unshuttered window. When noticed, it flies away.
"Tis only safe to speak further on this matter when we visit the confines of the Merchant Circle chambers within the Trade Gonjola. Tomorrow I will go to the council meeting and make sure we have time to get our case across the following day. For now, get some sleep."
Neph takes a much needed rest, long rest. He awakens feeling refreshed, glad to have survived the previous Drow encounter.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
THE NEXT DAY
Miah took us to see Maylorin Obsidianaxe first thing on the day of the Merchant Circle's planned meeting. Maylorin told us that every single dwarven trading caravan has been destroyed or captured in recent times. The attacks are coming from House Gullion of the Drow.
You enter a large stone-floored chamber with solid pink walls, illuminated by the ethereal rose light emanating from the crystal and further enhanced by a circle of torches. Marble steps descend into the chamber proper where an ornately carved, circular wooden table sits in the center of the room. Members of the Merchant Circle take their seats, and Mayor Torin Stonetooth calls the meeting to order.
"Today we have guests," says the mayor to the council, then, looks at us. "Please, take a seat."
First the group discusses a few matters left over from their previous meeting. After the Merchant Circle has finally finished discussing new trading laws regarding certain types of poisonous mushrooms, the floor is passed to Maylorin.
"Since you've left me with little time, i'll get right to the heart of the matter. As you know, our trade caravancs have been attacked time and time again by the drow from the city of Holoth and our people taken as slaves. Diplomats attempting to contact the drow have also disappeared, never to be seen again. Our once great force of skildpadders and merchants has been reduced only a smattering of minor traders and beasts of burden. Just three are fully trained as attack beasts! From reports obtained after encounters with the dark elves, it appears that one house is responsible for this shift in behavior." As he speaks Maylorin pulls out a Drow house insignia pin and set it upon the table. There is a murmur around the room.
"Indeed, this is the symbol that was found at each and every engagement we've been able to get evidence from." Maylorin reaches into his pocket again, drawing out his closed fist, he scatters a further dozen or so pins across the table, all exactly the same as the first. With his re-clenched fist crashing down on the table and his voice raised, Maylorin states, "This accursed insignia, this bane of the lives of all who live in Embla, is the symbol of House---"
Before he finishes his sentence, a crossbow bolt pieces the spot between his neck and shoulder, black ooze dripping off the shaft, and Maylorin convulses in agony before sliding out of his seat and under the table. The entire circle erupts as missiles and daggers coated in poison appear out of nowhere, hitting Torin the Mayor first, then the other members of the Merchant Circle. Blood spills across the table and falls to the floor as the shadowy forms of lithe dark elf assassins rush across the walls and ceiling.
It's initiative time. The Merchant Circle has been ambushed.
Raza is listening intently as Maylorin speaks and let's out a startled gasp as the bolt pierces him, almost falling out of her chair as she scrambles to stand and figure out what is happening.
Init 5
Neph jerks upright as the arrows and bolts start to hit, looking for cover.
Initiative : 18
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Daewen has been watching the proceedings from the side walls, in the shadows and out of the spotlight where she’s most comfortable. She’s a solder, after all, and not a diplomat or politician in any way, shape, or form. When the crossbow bolts start to fly, she immediately thought back to an earlier mission where something similar happened, but the previous time it was a hobgoblin attack. Different enemy, same result. Just one more reason why she’s glad she chose the career she did…much more interesting stories to be brought back to her Queen!
Daewen’s initiative: 16
Stealth for hiding in the shadows: 21
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
The meeting is boring. Mock has never liked meetings, and that hasn't changed since joining the Order. She sits with her group, arms crossed over her chest, leaning back against something solid, and tries her best not to show her boredom. Some people get offended by that, she's heard. Then the crossbow bolt comes flying onto the scene, and people are dying.
"Oh, thank the gods," Mock mutters as she pushes herself up into a standing position.
Initiative: 10
In the meanwhile, Zhi was filing his claws and fangs while the dwarves were speaking. He rolls his eyes and prepares himself to cast. "Do not worry about Maylorin. I can speak with him even while he's dead," Zhi rasps.
Zhinitiative: 19
Daewen18, Neph18, Zhi10, Mock10, Raza5
Drow1: 7
Drow2: 13
Drow3: 16
Drow4: 8
Drow5: 20
Drow6: 6
K'Chouk: 16
MY BOLOGNA HAS A FIRST NAME
Daewen18, Neph18, Drow2(18)(AC15/HP45), Drow3(18)(AC15/HP45), Drow5(16)(AC15/HP45), Drow4(12)(AC15/HP45), K'Chouk(11)(AC15/HP78), Drow1(11)(AC15/HP45), Drow6(10)(AC15/HP45), Zhi10, Mock10, Raza5