Grexes positions himself against the near wall, out of line of sight of the window. Closing his eyes, he listens closely, trying to discern a shift in stance, the brush of hand or leather against stone, even a sharp breath, to discern the general position of the archer. (21) Assuming he hears little, or not enough to give him much useful information, he will speak out in a low voice.
The monster folds its wings back, allowing it to streak downward. Whether it is focused on you, Carzi, or the centaur, you cannot tell because the three of you are in such close proximity to one another. You know you have time for at least one more shot before it descends upon you...
The apprentice scrunches up his face in an expression of deep thought. "Pose as a student attending one of her lectures? I don't think these schools closely monitor who attends these lectures. Possibly you can have a word with her before she leaves the room? Just a thought."
You launch the fleeing assassin upward as if he is little more than a child. He is dead long before he smashes into the ground and skids along the street, where he ends up in a twisted, lifeless heap. His crossbow clatters on the cobblestones at least 20' away.
Turning your head in both directions, you're confident that no one has been a witness to what just occurred.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Grexes
Feeling secure about where you've placed yourself, you strain your senses to pick up any sort of clue about who, or what, has been watching the goings-on in the alley. The only answer to your question is another sharp snap of a crossbow string...
Ranged attack: 9 for 6 piercing damage, if successful
...the bolt, which is intended for Tark, misses narrowly and, with a resounding SHUNK, sticks in a barrel. A stream of expletives pour from Tark's mouth as he scurries across the alley to stand near you.
Whoever stands on the other side of the open window seems unwilling to talk.
“Well… it’s already dead no?…”Moneo asks. Then, as the undead is beginning to speak, he hears the clop clop of hooves, rolls his eyes, and says, half to himself, “One gods damned thing after another…”With a quick sigh and a shrug he realizes there’s little for it, says quickly, “Back to the sword!” And then yells, “What the **** is that?!” Then frantically looking around, ‘spots’ the guard and continues, “Guard! Help!” and ‘panics’ a bit waiting for assistance.
The minotaur quickens his pace slightly as he makes his way directly toward you, Pherebus, and the Returned. Stopping approximately 15' away, he glances first at the pile of debris (that was once the barrel containing the Returned); second, at the contents of your boat; and, lastly, at the Returned. He has suspicion written all over his face. Gripping the hilt of his longsword, he says bluntly, "Explain yourselves."
You notice that most of the guard's attention is focused upon the Returned (who stands motionless and silent).
Pherebus locks eyes with you, as if to say, This is your mess. Now clean it up.
Deciding that the truth is generally the best, and that this shit really is crazy, Moneo starts to stammer as he continues to back up from the Returned towards the guard, hoping that his companion will pick up on his acting and start to do the same, and says, “We… we were just unloading some cargo here and one broke open. When a… a hand came through I thought someone needed help. But then th…this came through!”
Robin nods to the apprentice. She doesn't believe she can pull off passing herself off as a student, but, if security is so lax, she figures she might be able to get close enough to speak to the author regardless. She decides she should likely clean up a bit, as the faint smell of smoke still clings to her after the incident with the book. Returning to her accomadations, she washes up and lets her hair out of the tie she had put it in. Brushing the long red curls a bit, she makes herself a bit more presentable, then decides she should try to time getting to the author's classroom about when the classes let out for the day. If that is not for a while, then she will take time for lunch and look into some other avenues between now and then. If it is soon, then she would head straight to the classroom area.
"Be ready to shoot when it gets close,"Calliope responds, not taking her eyes off the griffon. She waits for it to get a bit closer, then fires again...
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Mekleon searches the assassin’s body, before taking a part of its brown cloak that isn’t already smeared with blood and wiping his horns off with it. He retrieves his javelin, as well as the crossbow, and looks it over before tossing it on the body.
Investigation(?): 2
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Grexes growls at Tark and gestures towards the window, making an inquisitive handsign used by pit-fighters during grueling training sessions. The sign asks if the opponent has had enough, and or if he is able to continue, all without the watchful masters knowing, of course.
"Unloading some cargo?" repeats the watchman, questioningly. He maintains his grip on his longsword as he takes another look at the pieces of the broken barrel.
Striding forward a few steps so he stands within ten feet of three of you, he turns his attention to the Returned. "What do you say? Is this true?"
The Returned, to your chagrin, replies, "These two brought me to this place, but I do not know where I am."
Looking at you, the watchman asks, "Playing games with me are you? What, then, is supposed to be in these barrels?"
You sense that he doubts the story you've presented.
(A persuasion may be in order for your next post :))
The next morning you wander into the large circular building that houses the Nyklean school of philosophy. Not decorated as elaborately as other Meletian buildings, the place is impressive and imposing nonetheless. You discern immediately that the general public is permitted in the entry hall and adjacent quadrangle; so, your presence there is nothing out of the ordinary. Within twenty minutes you learn that this very evening a philosophic debate will be held in the Markea, one of the outdoor auditoriums in Meletis. The event is open to the all citizens of Meletis and will feature two leaders from the Formalist school and two leaders from the Nyklean school, one of whom will be Sophelia herself. The topic at hand is "Destiny and Morality: Can Both Exist?"
Arriving sufficiently early to procure a seat near the front of the auditorium, you ensure that you will have a good view of Sophelia, the individual seemingly responsible for penning the text that came to life and attacked you. She is a thin, olive-skinned human with long black hair, and she dons a simple grey robe. Through the ebb and flow of the debate you conclude that she is highly intelligent, extremely observant, thrifty with her words, and, above all, patient and even-tempered.
The debate concludes and the moderator announces that those in attendance may pose questions about what was discussed. After a few questions, some pertinent and insightful and some irrelevant and obtuse, a centaur several seats to your left asks rather confrontationally, "Nykleans, what say you about the death of the mage?! Your writings are in the midst of the discussion surrounding it!"
The moderator attempts to shut down the centaur's question, citing its irrelevance to the night's debate, but Sophelia intervenes. "I say this. Regarding the mage's death, it is a tragedy. Regarding the cause of his death, please allow the Reverent authorities to complete their investigation and state their conclusions."
Simultaneous murmurs of agreement and discontent rise from the crowd, and you ponder how to proceed with your own encounter in the library...
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Calliope
Risking the chance of being spotted, you fire another arrow. This time, your aim is true, and you watch the feathered shaft stick into the griffon's side. Carzi fires her crossbow again...
Attack: 16 Damage: 9
...and she gives a soft grunt of approval at the success of her shot.
The centaur stands his ground, javelin in hand and waiting for the griffon to come within range. The griffon, however, realizes that the battle is not its to win on this day. Had the centaur been alone, the story may have ended differently, but the winged beast flaps its wings, ascends into the evening sky, and begins to fade into the distance.
The centaur, aware that someone has come to his aid, calls out. "Thank you, mysterious friends. I live because you have come to my rescue. Will you show yourselves?"
Your search provides you with the following information about the assassin: he carries a dagger and a small, leather coin purse. Additionally, the underside of his right wrist bears a tattoo of the letter M.
Tark nods, and you see anger and resolve in his face. "We are easy targets in this alley, however," he whispers. "Our new enemy is sure to send reinforcements, no?"
Calliope gives a rude gesture to the griffon's retreating back. Then, despite the afternoon heat, she takes the knee-length blue coat that's rolled up on the side of her pack and slips it over her shoulders. Standing up and giving a quick nod for Carzi to do the same, she takes a few steps towards the centaur. Her bow is still in hand, though without an arrow nocked.
"You're bleeding," she points out. "Is there somewhere we can escort you where you can get help? I'd hate for that thing to circle back the second you're alone."
Mekleon leaves the items on the assassin’s body and rushes back to where Pim was shot, muttering a prayer to Iroas to sustain the man’s life. If he encounters any guards or similar people he lets them know what has occurred, and the location of the assassin’s body.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Grexes grunts. "Time is against us. We must find a new approach." With that, Grexes looks up towards the top of the wall. Without tools or other preparations, is it scalable? Could Grexes's powerful limbs give Tark enough leverage to breach the top, and perhaps find some way to help Grexes up as well?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Grexes positions himself against the near wall, out of line of sight of the window. Closing his eyes, he listens closely, trying to discern a shift in stance, the brush of hand or leather against stone, even a sharp breath, to discern the general position of the archer. (21) Assuming he hears little, or not enough to give him much useful information, he will speak out in a low voice.
"Speak. Who shot the sentry?"
Calliope
Carzi watches your shot fall short and murmurs, "It's no use, Calliope. My crossbow can't reach the griffon."
Perception for griffon: 22
The monster folds its wings back, allowing it to streak downward. Whether it is focused on you, Carzi, or the centaur, you cannot tell because the three of you are in such close proximity to one another. You know you have time for at least one more shot before it descends upon you...
Robin
The apprentice scrunches up his face in an expression of deep thought. "Pose as a student attending one of her lectures? I don't think these schools closely monitor who attends these lectures. Possibly you can have a word with her before she leaves the room? Just a thought."
Mekleon
You launch the fleeing assassin upward as if he is little more than a child. He is dead long before he smashes into the ground and skids along the street, where he ends up in a twisted, lifeless heap. His crossbow clatters on the cobblestones at least 20' away.
Turning your head in both directions, you're confident that no one has been a witness to what just occurred.
Grexes
Feeling secure about where you've placed yourself, you strain your senses to pick up any sort of clue about who, or what, has been watching the goings-on in the alley. The only answer to your question is another sharp snap of a crossbow string...
...the bolt, which is intended for Tark, misses narrowly and, with a resounding SHUNK, sticks in a barrel. A stream of expletives pour from Tark's mouth as he scurries across the alley to stand near you.
Whoever stands on the other side of the open window seems unwilling to talk.
“Well… it’s already dead no?…” Moneo asks. Then, as the undead is beginning to speak, he hears the clop clop of hooves, rolls his eyes, and says, half to himself, “One gods damned thing after another…” With a quick sigh and a shrug he realizes there’s little for it, says quickly, “Back to the sword!” And then yells, “What the **** is that?!” Then frantically looking around, ‘spots’ the guard and continues, “Guard! Help!” and ‘panics’ a bit waiting for assistance.
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
Moneo
The minotaur quickens his pace slightly as he makes his way directly toward you, Pherebus, and the Returned. Stopping approximately 15' away, he glances first at the pile of debris (that was once the barrel containing the Returned); second, at the contents of your boat; and, lastly, at the Returned. He has suspicion written all over his face. Gripping the hilt of his longsword, he says bluntly, "Explain yourselves."
You notice that most of the guard's attention is focused upon the Returned (who stands motionless and silent).
Pherebus locks eyes with you, as if to say, This is your mess. Now clean it up.
Deciding that the truth is generally the best, and that this shit really is crazy, Moneo starts to stammer as he continues to back up from the Returned towards the guard, hoping that his companion will pick up on his acting and start to do the same, and says, “We… we were just unloading some cargo here and one broke open. When a… a hand came through I thought someone needed help. But then th…this came through!”
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
Robin nods to the apprentice. She doesn't believe she can pull off passing herself off as a student, but, if security is so lax, she figures she might be able to get close enough to speak to the author regardless. She decides she should likely clean up a bit, as the faint smell of smoke still clings to her after the incident with the book. Returning to her accomadations, she washes up and lets her hair out of the tie she had put it in. Brushing the long red curls a bit, she makes herself a bit more presentable, then decides she should try to time getting to the author's classroom about when the classes let out for the day. If that is not for a while, then she will take time for lunch and look into some other avenues between now and then. If it is soon, then she would head straight to the classroom area.
"Be ready to shoot when it gets close," Calliope responds, not taking her eyes off the griffon. She waits for it to get a bit closer, then fires again...
Attack: 13 Damage: 9
Might as well attempt to hide again. Stealth: 24
Iris - Tiefling Cleric | Cassandra - Elf Warlock | Solace - Tiefling Monk | Tempest - Hexblood Monk | Lex - Fire Genasi Barbarian
Lilyn - Triton Ranger | Candor - Changeling Bard | Echo - Changeling Warlock/Bard | Rowan - Fairy Wizard
Mekleon searches the assassin’s body, before taking a part of its brown cloak that isn’t already smeared with blood and wiping his horns off with it. He retrieves his javelin, as well as the crossbow, and looks it over before tossing it on the body.
Investigation(?): 2
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Grexes growls at Tark and gestures towards the window, making an inquisitive handsign used by pit-fighters during grueling training sessions. The sign asks if the opponent has had enough, and or if he is able to continue, all without the watchful masters knowing, of course.
Moneo
"Unloading some cargo?" repeats the watchman, questioningly. He maintains his grip on his longsword as he takes another look at the pieces of the broken barrel.
Striding forward a few steps so he stands within ten feet of three of you, he turns his attention to the Returned. "What do you say? Is this true?"
The Returned, to your chagrin, replies, "These two brought me to this place, but I do not know where I am."
Looking at you, the watchman asks, "Playing games with me are you? What, then, is supposed to be in these barrels?"
You sense that he doubts the story you've presented.
(A persuasion may be in order for your next post :))
Robin
The next morning you wander into the large circular building that houses the Nyklean school of philosophy. Not decorated as elaborately as other Meletian buildings, the place is impressive and imposing nonetheless. You discern immediately that the general public is permitted in the entry hall and adjacent quadrangle; so, your presence there is nothing out of the ordinary. Within twenty minutes you learn that this very evening a philosophic debate will be held in the Markea, one of the outdoor auditoriums in Meletis. The event is open to the all citizens of Meletis and will feature two leaders from the Formalist school and two leaders from the Nyklean school, one of whom will be Sophelia herself. The topic at hand is "Destiny and Morality: Can Both Exist?"
Arriving sufficiently early to procure a seat near the front of the auditorium, you ensure that you will have a good view of Sophelia, the individual seemingly responsible for penning the text that came to life and attacked you. She is a thin, olive-skinned human with long black hair, and she dons a simple grey robe. Through the ebb and flow of the debate you conclude that she is highly intelligent, extremely observant, thrifty with her words, and, above all, patient and even-tempered.
The debate concludes and the moderator announces that those in attendance may pose questions about what was discussed. After a few questions, some pertinent and insightful and some irrelevant and obtuse, a centaur several seats to your left asks rather confrontationally, "Nykleans, what say you about the death of the mage?! Your writings are in the midst of the discussion surrounding it!"
The moderator attempts to shut down the centaur's question, citing its irrelevance to the night's debate, but Sophelia intervenes. "I say this. Regarding the mage's death, it is a tragedy. Regarding the cause of his death, please allow the Reverent authorities to complete their investigation and state their conclusions."
Simultaneous murmurs of agreement and discontent rise from the crowd, and you ponder how to proceed with your own encounter in the library...
Calliope
Risking the chance of being spotted, you fire another arrow. This time, your aim is true, and you watch the feathered shaft stick into the griffon's side. Carzi fires her crossbow again...
Attack: 16 Damage: 9
...and she gives a soft grunt of approval at the success of her shot.
The centaur stands his ground, javelin in hand and waiting for the griffon to come within range. The griffon, however, realizes that the battle is not its to win on this day. Had the centaur been alone, the story may have ended differently, but the winged beast flaps its wings, ascends into the evening sky, and begins to fade into the distance.
The centaur, aware that someone has come to his aid, calls out. "Thank you, mysterious friends. I live because you have come to my rescue. Will you show yourselves?"
Mekleon
Your search provides you with the following information about the assassin: he carries a dagger and a small, leather coin purse. Additionally, the underside of his right wrist bears a tattoo of the letter M.
Grexes
Tark nods, and you see anger and resolve in his face. "We are easy targets in this alley, however," he whispers. "Our new enemy is sure to send reinforcements, no?"
Calliope gives a rude gesture to the griffon's retreating back. Then, despite the afternoon heat, she takes the knee-length blue coat that's rolled up on the side of her pack and slips it over her shoulders. Standing up and giving a quick nod for Carzi to do the same, she takes a few steps towards the centaur. Her bow is still in hand, though without an arrow nocked.
"You're bleeding," she points out. "Is there somewhere we can escort you where you can get help? I'd hate for that thing to circle back the second you're alone."
Iris - Tiefling Cleric | Cassandra - Elf Warlock | Solace - Tiefling Monk | Tempest - Hexblood Monk | Lex - Fire Genasi Barbarian
Lilyn - Triton Ranger | Candor - Changeling Bard | Echo - Changeling Warlock/Bard | Rowan - Fairy Wizard
Mekleon leaves the items on the assassin’s body and rushes back to where Pim was shot, muttering a prayer to Iroas to sustain the man’s life. If he encounters any guards or similar people he lets them know what has occurred, and the location of the assassin’s body.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Grexes grunts. "Time is against us. We must find a new approach." With that, Grexes looks up towards the top of the wall. Without tools or other preparations, is it scalable? Could Grexes's powerful limbs give Tark enough leverage to breach the top, and perhaps find some way to help Grexes up as well?