"I was thinking more beat her as I was beaten, put-on my equipment, and keep her in that tomb until we decide to tell the authorities she's there. Cultists like you lot relish death, yes?"
“I like your thinking, Madam. Perhaps break her arms before putting the lid on the sarcophagus? That way she can’t possible force her way out. Or is that too much? I’m new to the world of torture.”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Samuel -
For DM's eyes only:
Deception check: 12
You're fairly confident that she is lying.
Ranala - The Fist seems to be resigned to her fate and you get the feeling that no amount of intimidation will convince her to give up the one small bit of petty satisfaction she has left.
Rhogarr will suggest that the Fist should be taken to the authorities to face "appropriate justice," but will not object too ardently if the others want to end her.
Remi helps with the intimidation / coercion, but with a different tactic. Matter of factly he states, “Well, if you’re going to make an omelet, you’ve got to break some eggs, as my mom always taught me. Where do you want me to break her arms, here at the mid shaft or higher up, so that she can’t use her shoulders or arms anymore?” He starts measuring on the Fist’s arm, picking up a spare board that is lying around and preparing to do the deed. He subtly examines the behind and nether region of the Fist to see if he can see any urine evacuating from her bladder.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
“Ranala, I’m sure your notes are still around somewhere. I’m sure if they were made into a meal they would have been a delicacy, given the value you say they have.” Samuel will offer her a smile. “We are wasting our time with this one now. I say we get a happy medium of both worlds; tie her up, put her in the sarcophagus, close the lid. We can come back for her to bring her to justice on the way out. Or…save a lot of effort and just end her now. Whatever you deem appropriate.”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ranala would sigh, hanging her head. "Hold on..." She would groan, jumping into the tomb. As she throws on her equipment, all sorts of stuff can be seen juggling just over the lip of the sarcophagus as she hurries to get everything on from inside. Once finished and now in her fitted scaled armor, she'd hop out, vaulting as best she could given her size and landing outside.
Once finished, she'd walk around to the fist, grey eyes piercing through her and she'd give one final lash to her. A few huffs and puffs to keep her composure later, she'd look around and ask, "Please, put this fool in the coffin. Biggest mistake of your life." She mutters to the cultist as she backs away to the others. "I only pray those notes are not lost. They are highly significant to the future of Elturel, Baldur's Gate, probably the whole of the Sword's Coast. Thank you... I dunno your name." She would give an awkward, but thankful smile to the bard.
“Oh my! How very rude of me! My name is Samuel. Samuel Gladesong. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Ranala.” Samuel will offer a bow. “Notes of such import must be found. When I sing the songs of our journeys to recover them and of the impact they have on the world…perhaps I will leave the happenings in this room out though.” After a slight pause Samuel will add, “Well…lead the way to our next conquest Master Turnuroth.”
Remi - The Fist rolls her eyes and ignores your threats. You do not see any tell-tale signs of urination.
Ranala - The whip cuts the woman perpendicular to the first lashing and she screams in agony. The Fist is placed in the coffin and is surprisingly compliant at this point, "A preferable end than being left to the mercy of Mortlock and his devil-consorting mother I assure you." Before the lid is slid in place, she spits at you and says, "Bane is glorified by your hate bitc-" The heavy stone lid cuts off her retort.
Ankita - With Ranala's guidance on how best to grasp and lift the lid, you're able to heave it on top of the sarcophagus and slide it in to place.
As the sarcophagus shuts Ranala calmly wipes the spittle from her. "Hate is only temporary. Your time in a cell, depends." She'd say, almost to herself as she picks up the shield the Fist of Bane once held, smiling as she finds use for it and straps it upon her left arm. "We have two doors, yes?" She'd put away her whip to produce her wand once again. She would cast guidance on whomever wishes to make a perception check on either of the doors to see what is on the other end.
"I meant to ask this back in my cell, but would anyone need some healing? I still have a bit of magic left." She'd offer to everyone.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Remi would retrieve his arrows, (vigorously out of the remaining Fist before sealed, pulling it out of her shoulder). Similarly, he heads back to the hallway and retrieves his ball bearings. "The best laid plots..." he comments to himself as he gathers them all up and places them back in the bag. He heads to the next door to the south and puts his ear to it, but imagines that if any Fists were there, they likely would have heard the ruckus. He listens for any other sounds or movement.
Perception : 23
As he sits there listening, inside his mind he says to himself, "Mortlock??"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Damian simply observes with a wry smile as the others condemn the uncooperative cultist to a suitable horrific fate, holding his hands together and laughing evilly as the heavy stone lid cuts off the cultist mid-sentence, never to be heard again. They all seemed to be prepared to do what was needed after all he thought.
"Now let's continue."Damian says and follows the others to the next door. Perception: 16 Stealth: 13
Ankita notices Damian smiling, “why are you smiling? Ranala didn’t get the papers she requires. Feels more like a failure. Hopefully we run into others that might give a better answer.” And she heads to follow the group to the next room.
"Those notes for sure are not lost. If I'd to be honest they were without-a-doubt why I was ambushed." She reassures Ankita. "It's not a failure, yet."
Damian & Remi - You both hear what sounds like nonsensible whispering coming from beyond the door.
Remi - The name Mortlock does ring a bell from your time among the riff raff of Baldur's Gate. You've heard word that one of Duke Thalamra Vanthampur's sons is a hulking brute known for being the "muscle" in House Vanthampur's illicit operations. His name is Mortlock.
Damian - The patriar rumor mill abounds with juicy gossip about Duke Thalamra Vanthampur and her sons. One of which, you know is named Mortlock. It is well-known that Mortlock is tolerated by his mother, Duke Thalamra Vanthampur, and despised by his older brothers, Thurstwell and Amrik, who view him as a simpleton and an abomination. Half of Mortlock’s face was scarred by fire when he was a child, and his disfigurement gives him a fearsome countenance.
"Yes, yes, those very important notes will surely be found eventually. My apologies Ankita, but I was merely smiling at seeing you all act with such decisiveness punishing that cultist with that most suiting fate for her unlawful actions. I should remind you that Captain Zodge does not expect any prisoners, just plain extermination of this nest of vermin." Damian says more serious now.
"Be ready, more cultists beyond that door., and let's go for the throat this time" Damian whispers and starts counting down on his fingers again to time their attack.
Insight Check on if they actual fed Ranala her notes: 15
If Samuel feels like the Cultist is speaking truth, “This one has outlived their use. End them, Ranala. We need not waste more time with such filth.”
"I was thinking more beat her as I was beaten, put-on my equipment, and keep her in that tomb until we decide to tell the authorities she's there. Cultists like you lot relish death, yes?"
“I like your thinking, Madam. Perhaps break her arms before putting the lid on the sarcophagus? That way she can’t possible force her way out. Or is that too much? I’m new to the world of torture.”
Samuel -
For DM's eyes only:
Deception check: 12
You're fairly confident that she is lying.
Ranala - The Fist seems to be resigned to her fate and you get the feeling that no amount of intimidation will convince her to give up the one small bit of petty satisfaction she has left.
Rhogarr will suggest that the Fist should be taken to the authorities to face "appropriate justice," but will not object too ardently if the others want to end her.
DM: In the Shadow of the Mountains: Lost Mine of Phandelver
Remi helps with the intimidation / coercion, but with a different tactic. Matter of factly he states, “Well, if you’re going to make an omelet, you’ve got to break some eggs, as my mom always taught me. Where do you want me to break her arms, here at the mid shaft or higher up, so that she can’t use her shoulders or arms anymore?” He starts measuring on the Fist’s arm, picking up a spare board that is lying around and preparing to do the deed. He subtly examines the behind and nether region of the Fist to see if he can see any urine evacuating from her bladder.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
“Ranala, I’m sure your notes are still around somewhere. I’m sure if they were made into a meal they would have been a delicacy, given the value you say they have.” Samuel will offer her a smile. “We are wasting our time with this one now. I say we get a happy medium of both worlds; tie her up, put her in the sarcophagus, close the lid. We can come back for her to bring her to justice on the way out. Or…save a lot of effort and just end her now. Whatever you deem appropriate.”
Ranala would sigh, hanging her head. "Hold on..." She would groan, jumping into the tomb. As she throws on her equipment, all sorts of stuff can be seen juggling just over the lip of the sarcophagus as she hurries to get everything on from inside. Once finished and now in her fitted scaled armor, she'd hop out, vaulting as best she could given her size and landing outside.
Once finished, she'd walk around to the fist, grey eyes piercing through her and she'd give one final lash to her. A few huffs and puffs to keep her composure later, she'd look around and ask, "Please, put this fool in the coffin. Biggest mistake of your life." She mutters to the cultist as she backs away to the others. "I only pray those notes are not lost. They are highly significant to the future of Elturel, Baldur's Gate, probably the whole of the Sword's Coast. Thank you... I dunno your name." She would give an awkward, but thankful smile to the bard.
Whip Attack: 15 Damage (Nonlethal): 5
Ankita will help put the lid on the coffin.
Athletics: 7
(Apparently a bit distracted with the whole killing of the Fist by suffocation. But wants to help nonetheless)
Guidance to Ankita: 1
“Oh my! How very rude of me! My name is Samuel. Samuel Gladesong. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Ranala.” Samuel will offer a bow. “Notes of such import must be found. When I sing the songs of our journeys to recover them and of the impact they have on the world…perhaps I will leave the happenings in this room out though.” After a slight pause Samuel will add, “Well…lead the way to our next conquest Master Turnuroth.”
Remi - The Fist rolls her eyes and ignores your threats. You do not see any tell-tale signs of urination.
Ranala - The whip cuts the woman perpendicular to the first lashing and she screams in agony. The Fist is placed in the coffin and is surprisingly compliant at this point, "A preferable end than being left to the mercy of Mortlock and his devil-consorting mother I assure you." Before the lid is slid in place, she spits at you and says, "Bane is glorified by your hate bitc-" The heavy stone lid cuts off her retort.
Ankita - With Ranala's guidance on how best to grasp and lift the lid, you're able to heave it on top of the sarcophagus and slide it in to place.
All - What would you like to do now?
As the sarcophagus shuts Ranala calmly wipes the spittle from her. "Hate is only temporary. Your time in a cell, depends." She'd say, almost to herself as she picks up the shield the Fist of Bane once held, smiling as she finds use for it and straps it upon her left arm. "We have two doors, yes?" She'd put away her whip to produce her wand once again. She would cast guidance on whomever wishes to make a perception check on either of the doors to see what is on the other end.
"I meant to ask this back in my cell, but would anyone need some healing? I still have a bit of magic left." She'd offer to everyone.
Remi would retrieve his arrows, (vigorously out of the remaining Fist before sealed, pulling it out of her shoulder). Similarly, he heads back to the hallway and retrieves his ball bearings. "The best laid plots..." he comments to himself as he gathers them all up and places them back in the bag. He heads to the next door to the south and puts his ear to it, but imagines that if any Fists were there, they likely would have heard the ruckus. He listens for any other sounds or movement.
Perception : 23
As he sits there listening, inside his mind he says to himself, "Mortlock??"
History : 20
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Damian simply observes with a wry smile as the others condemn the uncooperative cultist to a suitable horrific fate, holding his hands together and laughing evilly as the heavy stone lid cuts off the cultist mid-sentence, never to be heard again. They all seemed to be prepared to do what was needed after all he thought.
"Now let's continue." Damian says and follows the others to the next door.
Perception: 16 Stealth: 13
History to recognize the name Mortlock: 16
Ankita notices Damian smiling, “why are you smiling? Ranala didn’t get the papers she requires. Feels more like a failure. Hopefully we run into others that might give a better answer.” And she heads to follow the group to the next room.
"Those notes for sure are not lost. If I'd to be honest they were without-a-doubt why I was ambushed." She reassures Ankita. "It's not a failure, yet."
Damian & Remi - You both hear what sounds like nonsensible whispering coming from beyond the door.
Remi - The name Mortlock does ring a bell from your time among the riff raff of Baldur's Gate. You've heard word that one of Duke Thalamra Vanthampur's sons is a hulking brute known for being the "muscle" in House Vanthampur's illicit operations. His name is Mortlock.
Damian - The patriar rumor mill abounds with juicy gossip about Duke Thalamra Vanthampur and her sons. One of which, you know is named Mortlock. It is well-known that Mortlock is tolerated by his mother, Duke Thalamra Vanthampur, and despised by his older brothers, Thurstwell and Amrik, who view him as a simpleton and an abomination. Half of Mortlock’s face was scarred by fire when he was a child, and his disfigurement gives him a fearsome countenance.
"Yes, yes, those very important notes will surely be found eventually. My apologies Ankita, but I was merely smiling at seeing you all act with such decisiveness punishing that cultist with that most suiting fate for her unlawful actions. I should remind you that Captain Zodge does not expect any prisoners, just plain extermination of this nest of vermin." Damian says more serious now.
"Be ready, more cultists beyond that door., and let's go for the throat this time" Damian whispers and starts counting down on his fingers again to time their attack.
“Oh good, I was worried for you.” Ankita tells the gnome.
Ankita nods to Damian and readies her staff and fox for the upcoming attack.