The three of you slow near the courtyard’s edge, moonlight pooling faintly across the worn flagstones. The air feels heavier here, the smell of blood more distinct with each step.
Vorenus’s quick glance doesn’t reveal much — shadows play tricks in the uneven light, and the gravel underfoot is just a scatter of pale shapes to him.
Shenua sees more: the gravel isn’t evenly disturbed, but scuffed in two wide arcs, as though someone turned sharply or was forced to pivot. She spots a faint scrape on the stone step — something hard dragged over it.
Iromae’s gaze lingers longer, picking apart details from the half-light. Near the base of the steps, she spots a narrow trail — dark, glossy, and not yet dried—leading from the courtyard toward the slightly open door. There are droplets on the threshold, but beyond that, the darkness inside swallows any trace. In the gravel, she also notices two distinct boot patterns overlaying each other in the same spots — one smaller, lighter; the other broader and deeper, the stride longer.
And then, half-hidden under a tumble of gravel, she catches the edge of dark fabric. Pulling it free, she finds a torn strip of cloth, the weave fine, with faint silver threadwork along one edge — a pattern she remembers from the trim of Lirae’s outer cloak.
The breeze shifts, and the scent of blood is joined by another — burnt ozone, like the air after lightning. It’s faint, but sharp enough to sting the nose.
The tribunal doors stand ahead, one swaying slightly on its hinge. The darkness beyond seems to listen.
Iromae raises a hand, alerting the others to pause. She quickly considers what she has seen, likely blood, a struggle, two sets of boot prints leading inside. She doesn't want to say anything, but points to the droplets then inside. She pauses where normally she would have advanced in the lead. Without her armor and shield with her she feels a little bit uneasy. But with a quick breath she steps inside, hoping her friends are right behind her.
Even before entering she had strained her ears for any sound that she might make out from inside. And once past the threshold, she quickly examines the area for any signs of the people she is almost certain must be within. (Perception: 21)
Shenua's concern deepens at the sight of the disturbed gravel — wide arcs of sharp movement ending in a scrape across the stone step, as if something had been dragged. She motions toward Iromae and Vorenus, pointing to the marks and silently mouthing, A fight?
The answer comes when Iromae, in turn, points out her own findings.
Shenua's eyes widen. Had Lirae been hurt? Had someone tracked them so quickly? Or perhaps this had nothing to do with them — maybe Lirae had been followed for some time, only to meet her pursuers tonight of all nights. Or… had she fought and won? The artificer wants to believe that, but something tells her that's only wishful thinking.
Damn it. She should have brought her dagger. Lirae had insisted they travel light, to avoid raising suspicion if caught — but would that caution become their undoing?
Her hand drifts toward her pocket, brushing the thieves' tools inside. She considers summoning her eldritch cannon, but stops halfway. It was probably best not to rush this. Even her cannons could draw the wrong kind of attention here in Suzail.
Pursing her lips, the tiefling falls in behind Iromae, apprehension coiling tighter with each step they take into the shadowed building.
Vorenus looks over silently at Shenua when she points at the ground, he sees the thoughts racing through her mind as well as Iromae when she apparently sees even more. Vorenus pulls back his cloak and his dagger is hidden underneath, he shows Shenua - he did not bring his quarterstaff however. He moves his clothing to hide it again, bending down to look at the ground for a moment, then up at the door. Vorenus moves forward, on alert and looking around as he enters as well, sniffing the air, bending down to the ground to look for signs of someone being dragged through the doorway, and which direction they were going, any other signs of what happened here..
Perception : (Nat 20!) 23
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
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The three of you slow near the courtyard’s edge, moonlight pooling faintly across the worn flagstones. The air feels heavier here, the smell of blood more distinct with each step.
Vorenus’s quick glance doesn’t reveal much — shadows play tricks in the uneven light, and the gravel underfoot is just a scatter of pale shapes to him.
Shenua sees more: the gravel isn’t evenly disturbed, but scuffed in two wide arcs, as though someone turned sharply or was forced to pivot. She spots a faint scrape on the stone step — something hard dragged over it.
Iromae’s gaze lingers longer, picking apart details from the half-light. Near the base of the steps, she spots a narrow trail — dark, glossy, and not yet dried—leading from the courtyard toward the slightly open door. There are droplets on the threshold, but beyond that, the darkness inside swallows any trace. In the gravel, she also notices two distinct boot patterns overlaying each other in the same spots — one smaller, lighter; the other broader and deeper, the stride longer.
And then, half-hidden under a tumble of gravel, she catches the edge of dark fabric. Pulling it free, she finds a torn strip of cloth, the weave fine, with faint silver threadwork along one edge — a pattern she remembers from the trim of Lirae’s outer cloak.
The breeze shifts, and the scent of blood is joined by another — burnt ozone, like the air after lightning. It’s faint, but sharp enough to sting the nose.
The tribunal doors stand ahead, one swaying slightly on its hinge. The darkness beyond seems to listen.
Iromae raises a hand, alerting the others to pause. She quickly considers what she has seen, likely blood, a struggle, two sets of boot prints leading inside. She doesn't want to say anything, but points to the droplets then inside. She pauses where normally she would have advanced in the lead. Without her armor and shield with her she feels a little bit uneasy. But with a quick breath she steps inside, hoping her friends are right behind her.
Even before entering she had strained her ears for any sound that she might make out from inside. And once past the threshold, she quickly examines the area for any signs of the people she is almost certain must be within. (Perception: 21)
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Shenua's concern deepens at the sight of the disturbed gravel — wide arcs of sharp movement ending in a scrape across the stone step, as if something had been dragged. She motions toward Iromae and Vorenus, pointing to the marks and silently mouthing, A fight?
The answer comes when Iromae, in turn, points out her own findings.
Shenua's eyes widen. Had Lirae been hurt? Had someone tracked them so quickly? Or perhaps this had nothing to do with them — maybe Lirae had been followed for some time, only to meet her pursuers tonight of all nights. Or… had she fought and won? The artificer wants to believe that, but something tells her that's only wishful thinking.
Damn it. She should have brought her dagger. Lirae had insisted they travel light, to avoid raising suspicion if caught — but would that caution become their undoing?
Her hand drifts toward her pocket, brushing the thieves' tools inside. She considers summoning her eldritch cannon, but stops halfway. It was probably best not to rush this. Even her cannons could draw the wrong kind of attention here in Suzail.
Pursing her lips, the tiefling falls in behind Iromae, apprehension coiling tighter with each step they take into the shadowed building.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Vorenus looks over silently at Shenua when she points at the ground, he sees the thoughts racing through her mind as well as Iromae when she apparently sees even more. Vorenus pulls back his cloak and his dagger is hidden underneath, he shows Shenua - he did not bring his quarterstaff however. He moves his clothing to hide it again, bending down to look at the ground for a moment, then up at the door. Vorenus moves forward, on alert and looking around as he enters as well, sniffing the air, bending down to the ground to look for signs of someone being dragged through the doorway, and which direction they were going, any other signs of what happened here..
Perception : (Nat 20!) 23
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.